𝕔𝕙𝕒𝕡𝕥𝕖𝕣 𝕗𝕠𝕦𝕣𝕥𝕖𝕖𝕟

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You realized in the light of the hallway that you hadn't just been sprayed in Billy's blood. In fact, you were absolutely drenched in it. Your body started to shiver as you sprinted away from the master bedroom, only stopping at the top of the landing to look down over the first floor of the house. Blood pumped loudly in your ears, making your chest feel tight. The front door at the bottom of the stairs was shut and you figured that even if you got that far, you wouldn't have enough time to open it and escape before the killer got to you.

Before you could plan any further ahead, you felt someone grab you by the back of your collar and hold you up in the air. You didn't have to turn around to know it was Billy's killer. You cried out in surprise, kicking your legs frantically in front of you. The sound of tearing fabric was loud in your ears and you felt as your weight overpowered the strength of the shirt, ripping the collar wider so that your shoulder fell through.

"Fuck!" You yelped, wriggling out of his grasp. His heavy footsteps chased after you as you tore down the hall, just out of reach from his gloved hands. You turned the corner quickly, hands reaching out to keep your balance. 

 There, at the end of the hall, you spotted a single half-open door. Using the last of your strength, you quickened your pace and toss yourself into the room, throwing your back against the door and slamming it shut behind you. With fingers shaking violently, you twisted the lock into place and slid down to the floor.

Through your heavy breathing, you tried to listen closely for any sign of activity in the hallway. But to your dismay, it was totally silent. No knocking, kicking, or even footsteps could be heard. The only sound was your own rapid breathing. But you knew he was there, waiting for the right moment when your guard fell.

Arm trembling, you felt along the wall for a light switch. It appeared between your fingers and you pulled on it, casting the room in a warm yellow light. You blinked back at the sudden brightness but once your vision returned to normal, you realized that you hadn't just stumbled into any room. You were in Stu's bedroom.

Realizing that Ghostface wasn't planning on breaking in any time soon, you wobbled to your feet like a newborn deer and took a few experimental steps further inside. You'd never been in Stu's room before, but this must've been his. There was a single king-sized bed against the back wall surrounded by all sorts of movie posters. CD cases were scattered across the floor with candy wrappers and other pieces of garbage.

All in all, it was everything you expected a teenage boy's living space to look like, down to the subtle stench of B.O.

In the back of the room, the doors to his closet were propped open with a pair of red sneakers. You shuffled closer, careful not to trip on any of the assorted objects splayed out on the carpet. Stu was an athlete, right? Maybe he had a baseball bat or something in there you could use to defend yourself.

You pushed the closest door open with one hand and felt around the air for a string. It brushed against your palm and you grabbed it, pulling it down to activate the light. There were dirty clothes tossed carelessly onto the shelves and on the floor, not necessarily the arsonal you had been hoping for.

Just as you were about to turn away and try your luck with one of the windows above his bed, the light from the swinging bulb caught something reflective from behind the rack of mismatched clothes. Your eyes narrowed in curiosity and you bent over to part the rack down the middle, exposing the back wall of the closet.

Postered against the wallpaper was a series of Polaroid photographs. They were all shaky and mostly taken in the pitch darkness. You squinted and got on your knees to crawl closer, wanting to take a better look but instantly regretting it.

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