Who's There

Chapter One- Seriously?

Ring. Ring. The telephone rung out, hauntingly high pitched yet oh so familiar. Crimson blindly reached for the receiver, knocking it to the floor. She swore fluidly, stretching to reach it. "Hello?"

"Knock knock" A voice said, thick and husky like gravel had been
forced down the owner's throat.

She rolled her eyes. This is a phone call doofus, nice try. Stupid prank callers. Probably some kids or some guy around her age who thought he was clever. She decided to humour them

"Who's there?" She said, drily

"I want"

What a stupid answer. "I want who?"

The voice chuckled darkly. "I want to kill you" It whispered sinisterly. Crimson dropped the receiver, heart racing. She regained her senses, picking the phone up.

"Are you still there?" She asked cautiously

"Open the door Crimson. Open it now. If you don't then there will be consequences."

"W-What kind of c-consequences?" She stuttered, twirling her hair anxiously

"If you don't do as I ask then your family members will die an agonising death"

"I thought you wanted to kill me?"

"Eager are we? Don't worry, you'll have your turn. You'll be last after I have no use of you." The voice chuckled harshly again. Then the line went dead...

She padded slowly downstairs, hearing the wind and rain batter her house violently, obviously in a volatile mood. Owls hooted ominously from the tree tops, a symbol of death.

The door was swung open and Crimson warily surveyed her surroundings. No one was in sight. An envelope was resting on her porch, protected from the elements. With trepidation it was torn open. She skimmed through it. The caller had listed his or her plans for the world. 'I will have control'. 'The world leaders and their families will pay for their mistakes'. 'Ordinary people will blindly follow me' .'Those that do not obey will be subjected to anguish, agony and mindless torture followed by a slow death. ' 'You will be the one to accomplish my demands and if you do not then you will pay.'  'My workers will be gifted the name of blood soldiers' .The world's women must make more blood soldiers, it is their duty'. 'All men are required to be blood soldiers and nothing else' . 'Children will learn what it is to be a blood soldier'. 'We will be honoured and respected above all else'. 'We will come up with the laws and traditions from now on'. 'The internet will be controlled by us and only us'. 'No one shall overthrow us'.

Tremors travelled down her spine. How on Earth was she going to achieve this? She highly doubted the likes of Theresa May, Donald Trump and Angela Merkel would listen to a goth girl from Hackney, London.

She looked at the letter closely. 13 demands. The unlucky number. If you were superstitious of course. The writing was in dark red. 13 red splatters were on the page. The signature, cursive and flowing yet somehow spiky. Like it had been done quickly. Or in immense pain. Crimson sighed. What was she to do? Some deluded weirdo wanted her to help take over the world. Because she had so much experience in that field. She snorted in derison. How very likely. It looked like she'd better start planning her own funeral. Perhaps black roses. Mahogany coffin anyone? Just to make it a little less morbid. And Paint it Black by the Rolling Stones or Welcome to the Black Parade by My Chemical Romance.

Author's Note: Thanks for reading my new horror story. I hope you enjoyed it. What do you think will happen next? Please vote and comment and as always constructive criticism is welcome. Thanks again