The heart acoustic (Ghostface x reader)

𝙷𝚘𝚜𝚙𝚒𝚝𝚊𝚕

You woke up to the sound of your grandmother crying.  You opened your eyes and saw a blinding florescent light overhead, making you want to rip your eyes out.  But, you were preoccupied with questioning the fate of your friend.  Not to mention your anxieties rising after seeing Steve.  He reminded you of your dad, even though his torture wasn't half as bad.

"Oh, (y/n)," your grandmother cried out.  "My poor, sweet baby!  I thought something terrible happened to you!  I'm so sorry!"

You quickly made a writing motion with your hands, and your grandmother produced a notebook and a pencil.  You quickly began writing, wanting to know what happened to your friend.  You had a feeling you already knew, but you still had hope.

'What happened to Casey?'

The nurses and your grandmother froze.  They didn't know what to tell you.  But, due to their reaction, you had a feeling you knew.  You felt tears pricking at your eyes.  Casey and Steve were dead.  You felt like you were right back in that house, with the police officer, and your father's corpse next to you.  You had some pretty bad luck to keep witnessing such gruesome murders.  And seeing Steve's insides wasn't helping you, it was just helping you remember your father.  You could only imagine what the man had done to Casey.

You knew you were probably going to start having nightmares again.  Now there were two bloody scenes that would dance around in your head for years, unwilling to leave you alone.  Forcing you to remember the mortality of your loved ones, and how just by being near you, odds are they'd die a horrible death.  It seemed you had a pattern of causing people the most pain they'd ever experience before their inevitable early death.

'Is she dead,' you asked.

"Yes dear," your grandmother confirmed, still crying.  "I'm so sorry!  What happened?!  Wait! Don't tell us, you're probably still so scared!"

"Wait, no, the cops want a statement," one of the nurses said.  "The kid's a key witness.  Someone should actually go call the police depatment.

"It's too soon to make them think about it!"

"Well, think about it this way," the nurse tried to reason.  "They're probably thinking about it right now either way, right?"

The nurse looked at you, and you nodded.  So, they continued.

"Well, then they might as well get the interview over with.  The sooner they do it, the sooner it's over and done with, and they won't need to worry about it anymore."

And with that, they walked out of the room.

"Gah, the nerve of some people," your grandmother said angrily.  "You're just a child, don't they know that?"

You wanted to tell her that you were fine.  But you weren't.  No one would be in your situation.  God, how you wished you were well enough to crack a joke about how this wasn't your first go-round with a near-death experience and watching people get brutally murdered, but it was too early.  For both your grandmother's sake, and your own.

Soon enough, a cop walked in, and asked your grandmother to leave the room.  He sat down in the chair where she had been, and looked you dead in the eyes.  But unlike what the movies and TV showed, he didn't seem intimidating.  He seemed genuinely concerned.

"So, are you (y/n) (l/n)," he asked.

'Yes sir," you wrote.

"Can you not talk?"

'No sir.'

"Alright then," he sighed.  "I'm deputy Riley, and I'm just going to ask you a few questions about what happened.  I'll start with the obvious, do you have any idea who the killer could be?  Any defining features, voice, face?"

'He was wearing a costume,' you answered.  'But I heard his voice.'

"So it's a he," deputy Riley stated, jotting it down on a notepad.  "How did you hear his voice?"

'He called us.'

"What exactly did he say to you," he interrogated.

'He asked to talk, and asked some questions.  Then he threatened to gut us if we hung up.  We did because we thought it was a prank,' you explained.

"Then what happened?"

'He told Casey something, and she looked out back, and Steve was tied up.  He told us to turn off the light, and asked Casey some horror trivia, and she got a question wrong.  We were told to turn on the patio lights again, and Steve had been-'

You couldn't finish writing that sentence.  Deputy Riley saw this, and quickly grabbed the hand that didn't have a pencil in it.

"It's okay," he told you.  "You're safe.  But I need you to tell me what happened next."

'He asked his last question.  'What door am I at?'  Casey didn't want to answer, so he broke in through the back door.  I got hit in the head, and I don't remember what happened next.'

"Okay.  That's all I needed," the deputy stated.  "We'll be in touch if any new evidence comes out.  Please remember, me and the other officers are only a phone call away."

He began to stand up and collect his things, reviewing his notes.  He was about to leave, but turned to face you one last time.

"You know, my sister goes to your school.  I can ask her to keep an eye out for you if you'd like," he told you.

'That isn't necessary,' you replied.  'I have another friend at school.'

"Alright.  Just remember, we're only a phone call away," he repeated.

And with that, he left.  Your grandmother quickly re entered, swiftly followed by another nurse.

"It seems (y/n) has sustained no major injuries, and has adjusted well," they announced.  "I'm going to talk to their doctor, and see if I can get them discharged.  Although, you do have a minor concussion, so please try to take it easy."

And with that, they left, leaving you with your elderly family once more.

"I'm so sorry this happened," your grandmother said (without crying this time).  "You were supposed to come so I could spoil you rotten, and make you forget about what happened.  You were supposed to be safe here.  I'm so sorry."

'It's not your fault,' you tried to reassure her.  'I was just at the wrong place at the wrong time.'

You both sat in silence for a moment, before curiosity began to knaw at you.

'What happened to Casey?  I saw Steve, but what happened to Casey?'

"You don't want to know," your grandmother answered.

'Please.'

"I can't.  Besides, you'll most likely hear about it on the news.  These damn reporters today... thinking they're oh so high and mighty, sticking their noses where they don't belong and spewing private information!  Back in my day..."

Your grandmother began to rant about her childhood, and you listened intently.  Trying to picture her as 'a spitfire of a young lass,' as she put it, provided a nice distraction from your thoughts.  Your dark thoughts.  Your memories.  And the voices telling you that you deserved to be dead, right along with your dad, or instead of Casey and Steve.

A/n: THERE'S A FUCKING JEKYLL AND HYDE MUSICAL.  I am a theater kid, I love that story (and gothic literature in general), and somehow didn't know that the two had an unholy child.  HEY FERB, I KNOW WHAT I'M GONNA DO LATER.