𝐒𝐂𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐌 𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐄𝐍

𝕔𝕙𝕒𝕡𝕥𝕖𝕣 𝕗𝕠𝕦𝕣

 You bopped your head along to the beat of whatever song that was playing over the radio as you crouched over the tall mirror on your closet door, trying to get your hair to fall a specific way but failing miserably. You promised Mickey that you would meet him outside the sorority house at seven o'clock sharp, but it was now bordering seven-thirty and you still weren't nearly ready.

When you told Hallie that you were going to a party tonight, she didn't believe you at first. You told yourself that you were only going for the booze, but even you had to admit it would be nice to feel the slightest bit normal since your life went to shit. Besides, Dewey would be lingering around if anything went south and you would have a boy on either of your arms at all times.

"Deep breaths," you mumbled, securing a bobby pin between your teeth and chewing on it absentmindedly. It was supposed to be a casual mixer, but you couldn't help but feel like you should dress up in one way or another. It was your first major social event since the Halloween party of junior year. You needed to prove that you weren't the scared little girl everyone perceived you as. 

You needed everyone to understand that you weren't just the final girl. At least, not anymore. Billy and Stu were gone and you could finally get on with your life. So why did thinking about it make you feel like crying?

The baby blue phone on your desk began to bleep loudly and you drew away from the mirror to shake out the mess of hair around your eyes. Forget it, no fancy hair tonight. The clock on your dresser told you that it was now bordering eight o'clock and you quickly snatched the phone off of the hook. It was probably Randy calling to make sure you weren't dead.

"Hi, yeah, sorry. I'm on my way now, I promise."

"Hey there, babydoll."

You nearly choked on your own saliva, clutching the device to your ear with an iron grip. You'd gotten thousands of prank calls over the months, but none of them ever sounded this real. "Who is this?" You asked, shaking off the pin-pricks of shock and reaching over for the caller ID reader next to the phone hook.

The dim, green-tinted screen flashed occasionally as it loaded up the caller's information. Usually, it took only seconds but this time it was nearly a whole minute before the data finally presented itself to you in thick, pixelated letters.

Unknown Caller.

"God, it's so good to hear your voice again."

You dropped the reader and winced as it clattered against the carpeted floor of your dorm room. It was a hollow sound and reminded you too much of the events that led up to the murders of your best friends. 

 There was no way this was real, It couldn't be. It just wasn't possible. "No way," you breathed into the receiver. The voice was too perfectly similar for this to be just another prank call. Or if it was, it was by far the best you've ever gotten.

A suppressed chuckle sounded through the phone, making the device rumble against your ear. Your first instinct was to shy away from the sound but on the contrary, you found yourself pressing it even closer against the side of your face, desperate to hear it once more.

"Didn't you miss me?"

"I-" you stammered, switching the phone to your right ear so you could grab the hook and carry it with you to the window. You peered out into the shadows that encased the dormitory, but there was nothing there besides the occasional flickering street lamp. "Is this for real?"

"What do you think?"

You frowned and shut the blinds with an exasperated huff. You tried to picture Billy with a dinky mobile phone in his hand; something small and untraceable. He'd be listening intently for your response, Stu pacing the ground behind him and waiting for his turn to talk to you. It seemed so surreal but the longer you stayed on the phone, the more plausible it sounded.

Leaning back against the foot of your bed, you pulled the phone's base tighter against your lap and nervously twirled the cord around your ring finger. "I think..." you said, still struggling to think up a proper response. What if this was just another prank call? What if it was the copycat killer that Dewey warned you about just hours before? You couldn't let your guard fall for the first gravelly anonymous voice that rang you up after dark. "I don't know what I think."

"Smart girl," he remarked, clicking his tongue. All previous doubts dissolved in your mind. This was Billy Loomis, no doubt about it. "You haven't changed a bit."

"Where are you?" You asked, trying not to sound as deprived as you truly were. "I-I mean, you're not here, are you?" The idea of them being within arms reach was equally pleasant and terrifying.

"Oh, you would just love that, wouldn't you?" His voice dipped into a low purr and for a split second, you thought he might have shut off the voice modulator altogether. "I know you need us just as bad as we need you."

"You don't know what I need."

"I beg to differ." 

There was a scuffle on the other end and you pictured Stu trying to wrestle the phone out of Billy's hands. You waited -- half out of patience and half out of fear. You didn't want to find out what would happen if you just hung up all of a sudden. For all you knew, they were right outside, luring you into a false sense of security.

"You killed those people," you sputtered, filling the static-y silence with your accusation. "In the movie theater, that was you."

"Are you kidding?" You held the phone away from your ear, the voice coming through suddenly three times as loud."You think I'm responsible for that lousy hack-job? My mother could have done better than that."

"But...but if that wasn't you...?"

You froze up all at once, unable to prevent yourself from sliding down to the floor, your back pressing up flat against the bedpost. It couldn't have been them, it was too obvious. Their entire motive was based on a singular plot-twist. It wasn't until the end of their killing spree that they finally got the satisfaction of a reveal. They lived for the fear they brought onto others, the wide-eyes and panicked breaths. 

 If they weren't the ones responsible for the murders in the theater, that meant there was a whole new murderer roaming around the campus; a whole new murderer who didn't want you to be a survivor the second-time around. The phone rattled again as the voice chuckled. It was a dry sound and there was no humor in it. "We'll take care of it, babydoll. We always do."

The implications of his promise were lost to you and instead of questioning exactly what he meant by it, you only nodded. It was enough to feel safe in their artificial presence, even if the fleeting feeling washed away as soon as the call ended.

"Just remember something for me, alright?" He demanded. 

"Yeah," you sighed obediently, not trusting your voice to gather above a whisper. Billy hummed, soaking up the sound of your voice like a drug. Unbeknownst to you, that's exactly what it was to him. He clung to every little gasp that left your mouth, every worried whimper and plead. He hesitated for as long as he could, nearly drowning in your voice alone.

"You're our final girl. No one else's." 

(A/N: I AM EDITING THIS LATER I PROMISE. PLEASE LET ME KNOW IF YOU SEE ANY MISTAKES. I know this is short, but I didn't want to go right from THAT to the sorority party. I think this will fit together better. I suck at writing for Billy but this was still fun. Never expect me to write dialogue like that ever again I stg. This will probably be the only chapter for the rest of the week. I also might update randomly if I feel like it but I have nothing planned as of right now. Hope you enjoyed!)