𝐅𝐈𝐍𝐀𝐋 𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋

𝕔𝕙𝕒𝕡𝕥𝕖𝕣 𝕥𝕙𝕚𝕣𝕥𝕖𝕖𝕟

"Shit."

You stumbled back through the hallway with your hand pressed flat against the wallpaper. Totally forgetting about the glass of water you left on the kitchen counter, you tiptoed all the way back up to the front of the house with the muffled words still echoing loudly in your head.

When they find Sid strung up like a Christmas tree...

"I'm going insane," you whispered to yourself in denial. There was a reason adults always told you not to eavesdrop when you were growing up. Besides, everyone at this party besides you was probably drunk out of their minds. You couldn't trust something you might have heard through a bathroom door. "Yeah, that's it. I'm just paranoid."

Oh, how wrong you were.

When you passed by the living room again, you peered inside to see it in the exact same shape you had left it. Randy was hobbling in front of the short TV stand with a fresh beer in his hand, the sight of which made you groan internally. Who the fuck gave Randy another beer?

The stack of tapes had been strewn about the coffee table. The first horror movie had ended and the opening credits of Friday the 13th were humming quietly through the static. You chewed on the inside of your cheek, eyeing the front door. Your body was still buzzing with uneasiness and more than anything else in the world, you wanted to find Tatum and go home.

"There are certain rules that one must abide by in order to successfully survive a horror movie," Randy slurred loudly. Your ears pricked up and you strained yourself to hear him better over the ominous music.

"For instance, you can never have sex. The minute you start getting it on--you're as good as gone. Sex always equals death." A few couples in the room groaned loudly. He waved them off, holding two fingers up in the air. "Secondly, never drink or do drugs. It's the sin factor, an extension of number one."

You knew the truth behind what he was saying. You'd seen enough movies to know that much. Putting the eavesdropped conversation in the back of your mind, you folded your arms and watched with amusement as Randy educated these random teens on horror logic.

"And lastly, never, ever, ever, under any circumstances, say  'I'll be right back' cause you'll be lying to yourself."

Right on cue, the landline phone on top of the TV began to ring. You teetered on your heels in the doorway, watching as Randy shushed everyone before picking it up and holding it against his ear. "Hello?" He asked.

You figured now was as good a time as any to duck out of the party but right as the thought popped into your head, Randy's face morphed into a look of astonishment as he slapped the phone back down onto the receiver. "Holy shit!"

Everyone in the room jumped back as he scrambled for the TV remote, shutting off the movie. "Listen up," he said, waving his hands frantically in the air in front of him. "They just found Principal Himbry dead. He was gutted and hung up from the goal post on the football field!"

Just like that, the house went completely still. There was complete silence as the news sank in. As far as you could tell, everyone was displaying one of two possible reactions. Fear; raw and numbing, or a sick sense of excitement. You couldn't lie and say you weren't the least bit interested in learning the gritty details but at the same time, you felt an unmistakable sense of nausea start to creep its way up to your throat.

Out from the back corner, two teens that you didn't recognize stood up off of the couch.

"So what are we waiting for?" one asked.

"Let's go over there before they pry him down!"

In seconds flat, the room was emptied. Everyone rose to their feet and started racing toward the door. You watched them as they sputtered down the dirt road in their respective vehicles, all making a beeline for the high school.