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TW: murder, strong language, graphic violence, gore
General notes: long chapter, spoilers for the movie and lots of dialogue
word count: 2267
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The phone rings, echoing through the living room. I pick up.
"Hello?" I answer.
"Hello." A gravelly voice replies. "Who is this?"
"Hm, well, who are you trying to reach?" I ask.
"What number is this?" The voice questioned.
"What number are you trying to reach?"
"I don't know." The voice said.
"Well, I think you have the wrong number" I respond.
"Do I?"
"It happens." I shrug. "Take it easy." I hang up the phone and walk towards the kitchen but it starts to ring again. I pick up.
"Hello?"
"I'm sorry," The voice apologises. "I guess I dialled the wrong number."
"So, why'd you dial it again?" I ask.
"To apologise." The voice states almost matter-o-factly.
"You're forgiven, bye now" I say dismissively.
"Wait, wait, don't hang up." The voice insists.
"What?" I ask.
"I want to talk to you for a second." The voice coaxes.
"They've got 900 numbers for that, see ya." I brush it off and hang up the phone. I take some jiffy pop from the pantry and heat it up on the stove. Lo and behold, the phone rings once more.
"Hello?" I answer, giving it the benefit of the doubt that it's my boyfriend or someone from school.
"Why don't you want to talk to me?" The voice replies, feeling like a brick just got pegged at my skull.
"Who is this?" I ask, fidgeting with the stove dials to turn it on.
"You tell me your name, I'll tell you mine."
"I don't think so." I dismiss.
"What's that noise?" The voice questions.
"Popcorn." I state simply.
"You're making popcorn?" The voice confims, ever turning answers to questions.
"Uh-huh"
"I only eat popcorn at the movies." The voice says.
"Well, I'm getting ready to watch a video." I state.
"Really? What?" The voice asks.
"Oh, just some scary movie." I shrug, walking over to the counter.
"𝗗𝗼 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗹𝗶𝗸𝗲 𝘀𝗰𝗮𝗿𝘆 𝗺𝗼𝘃𝗶𝗲𝘀?" The voice questions.
"Uh-huh" I reply.
"What's your favourite scary movie?"
"Uh, I don't know." I respond, my mind running blank.
"You have to have a favourite. What comes to mind?" The voice asks.
"Umm, Halloween," I reply, after scouring my brain for an answer. "you know the one with the guy in the white mask who walks around and stalks babysitters."
"Yeah?"
"What's yours?" I ask.
"Guess."
"Um, Nightmare on Elm Street!" I guess, fiddling with the knives in the holder.
"Is that the one where the guy had knives for fingers?" The voice goes on.
"Yeah, Freddy Krueger."
"Freddy, that's right," The voice says. "I liked that movie, it was scary."
"Well the first one was, the rest sucked." I shrug.
"So, you got a boyfriend?" The voice asked, a little out of the blue. I walk back into the living room.
"Why, you want to ask me out on a date?" I laugh.
"Maybe, do you have a boyfriend?" The voice pushes.
"No." I lie, for no reason in particular. Me and Steve weren't really official and so what, I don't need to tell everyone I know that I have a boyfriend.
"You never told me your name."
"Why do you want to know my name?" I ask.
"Because I want to know who I'm looking at." For a second what the voice said doesn't register and then it really sinks in. My jaw drops in shock.
"What did you say?" I try to confirm I wasn't just hearing things, praying I was just hallucinating.
"I want to know who I'm talking to."
"That's not what you said." I say, firmly this time.
"What do you think I said?" The voice questions. I rush to check the porch, pulling back the curtains and switching on the light. Nothing there. I sigh in relief, it's just a prank call. It has to be.
"What?" The voice asks. "Hello?"
"L-look I gotta go." I stammer.
"Wait, I thought we were going to go out"
"Uh, nah, I don't think so." I try to let this guy down easy.
"Don't hang up on me." I hang up the phone but before I can put it back on the reciever it rings again. I already know who it is.
"Yes?" I ask irritably.
"I told you not to hang up on me." The voice utters darkly.
"What do you want?" I snap.
"To talk."
"Well, dial someone else okay." I hang up again. I move to the kitchen. The phone rings, I feel like I'm in a time loop or something. I pick up.
"Listen, asshole." I spit, checking the popcorn.
"No, you listen, you little bitch!" The voice demands, knocking the wind out of me. "You hang up again and I'll gut you like a fish, understand?"
"Yeah." The voice sneers.
"Is this some kind of joke?"
"More of a game really." The voice "Can you handle that, blondie?" I can feel my skin crawl, sluggishly trying to escape the discomfort of my own body. At that moment, the milisecond his voice hit my ear drums I knew that if I didn't do something I would die.
I run to every door in the house frantically locking them as fast as humanly possible. I get to the front door and check the window beside it. Nothing again.
"Can you see me?" The voice taunts.
"Listen, I am two seconds away from calling the police." I threaten with all the strength in me.
"They'd never make it in time," jeers. "we're out in the middle of nowhere."
"What do you want?" I ask desperately.
"To see what your insides look like." The voice snaps. Fat tears well up in my eyes and roll liberally down my cheeks. I almost drop the phone in sheer distraught.
The door bell rings. A scream erupts from my lungs or from my very core, more rather. I hang up and shove the phone down unto the reciever.
"Who's there? Who's there?" I ask frantically. "I'm calling the police!" I pick the phone off the reciever and it rings in my hand, setting me off again. Almost like a whining child, wailing and crying. I pick up.
"You should never say 'Who's there?' don't you watch scary movies?" The voice berates angrily. "It's a deathwish might as well come out here to investigate a strange noise or something."
"Look, you've had your fun now so I think you better just leave or else." I cry, backing into the living room.
"Or else what?" The voice taunts.
"Or else my boyfriend will be here any second and he'll be pissed when he finds out!"
"I thought you didn't have a boyfriend."
"I lied, I do have a boyfriend and he'll be here any second, so you're ass better just leave!" The utter fear overwhelming me completely, swallowing me whole.
"Sure."
"I swear. He's big and he plays football and he'll kick the shit out of you!" I scream into the phone.
"I'm getting scared, I'm shaking in my boots." The voice mocks.
"So, you better just leave!"
"His name wouldn't be Steve, would it?" My heart drops to my stomach.
"How do you know his name?" I stammer.
"Turn on the pattio lights, again." The voice demands. I do as I'm told and almost faint from shock at what I see.
My boyfriend, Steve, tied to a chair on my pattio. Beaten and bloodied, his mouth gagged unceremoniously with duct tape. I scream once more until my lungs feel like I just breathed in sandpaper.
"Oh god!" I yelp, going to open the door and help him.
"I wouldn't do that if I were you." The voice snaps.
"Wh-where are you?" I mumble. "Where are you?"
"Guess."
"Please don't hurt him." I say, almost whispering.
"That all depends on you."
"Why are you doing this?" I ask desperately.
"I want to play a game." The voice states, plain and simple.
"Please, no." I beg.
"Then he dies right now." The voice sneers coldly.
"No! No!" I wail.
"Which is it? Which is it?!" The voice yells.
"Well, what kind of game?" I mumble, through tear-stained thoughts.
"Turn off the light, you'll see what kind of game." The voice demands. "Just do it."
I turn off the light with shaking fingers, I ignore Steve's screams from outside not to.
"Here's how we play," The voice explains. "I ask a question, if you get it right, Steve lives."
"No please, don't do this." I cry, my throat welling up with tears.
"Oh come on, it'll be fun." The voice coaxes.
"Please,"
"It's an easy category." The voice goes on.
"Please," I keep begging, maybe if I keep trying he'll just leave me and Steve alone.
"Movie trivia," The voice continues, unphased. "I'm going to give you a warm up question."
"Don't do this, I can't" I whimper.
"Name the killer in Halloween."
"No." I refuse, flat out.
"Come on, it's your favourite scary movie, remember?" The voice pushes through. "He had a white mask, he stalked the babysitters."
"I don't know." I shudder.
"Come on," The voice urges, more impatient this time "yes you do."
"No, please." I plead.
"What's his name?" The voice asks.
"I-I can't" I stutter.
"Steve's counting on you." The words echo around my skull.
"Micheal, Micheal Myers!" I cry, my breathing shaky and uneven.
"Yes!" The voice praises. "Very good, now for the real question!"
"No." I groan.
"But you're doing so well, we can't stop now." The voice tempts.
"Stop, leave us alone." I beg.
"Then answer the question, same category." The voice puts simply.
"No, please stop."
"Name the killer in Friday the 13th." A spark lights up in my little pea brain, I know this one.
"Jason! Jason! Jason!" I yell over and over, tears gushing out of my face.
"I'm sorry, that's the wrong answer." The voice states. Disbelief washes over me, it can't be. It has to be. I have to be right. He said it himself Steve's counting on me.
"No it's not, no it's not," I mutter. "it was Jason!"
"'fraid not, no way."
"Listen, it was Jason, I saw that movie 20 goddamn times!" I shout.
"Then you should know Jason's mother Mrs Vorhees was the original killer," The voice berates me incessantly. "Jason didn't show up until the sequel, I'm afraid that was a wrong answer."
"Are you kidding me?" I whisper.
"Lucky for you there's a bonus round," The voice taunts. "but, poor Steve I'm afraid he's out."
I hear a bone-chilling scream come from the pattio. Steve. I falter for a split second, switching on the pattio lights frantically.
Steve's guts are hanging out of him. It almost doesn't look real. His stomach slit open in the most vulgar way, organ spilling out onto the floor. His blood pools at his feet, face contorted in a mixture of pain and fear.
I sink to my knees, collapsing to the rough carpet. He's dead. He's dead. He's dead. All I can hear is that fucking voice's cold laugh ringing through the room.
"Hey, we're not finished yet." The voice starts up again. "Final question, are you ready?" I take a deep, shaky breath in.
"Please, leave me alone." I plead with what little energy I have left.
"Answer the question and I will." The voice goes on. "What door am I at?"
"What?"
"There are two main doors to your house, a front door and the pattio doors." The voice explains. "If you answer correctly, you may live. Very simple."
"Don't do this. I can't. I won't." I beg. Grabbing a letter opener off the top of the tv.
"Your call."
The glass pattio door shatters to pieces, a chair falls to the ground. I book it into the smoke-filled kitchen. The long-forgotten popcorn no doubt burnt to ash. I rest behind the counter, taking a knife.
I look around wildly searching for someone, anyone at all. I catch a glimpse of someone in a dark cloak running around. I take a deep breath in and run to the front door, quickly but still with caution.
I open the door as quietly as I can and shut it behind me. A car comes around by from the fields. I carefully look through the window, he's still there.
My ears prick up to the sound of footsteps. I breath out, the cars getting closer. It must be my parents. I could almost cry from joy but not yet. I crouch down, crawling out of view of the windows.
I take another look in the window. It's him. It's the killer. Donned in a full black cloak and hood with a shitty dollar store ghoul mask. I scream at the top of my lungs, clutching my kitchen knife for dear life.
He punches through the window, grabbing my knife. Then breaking through the window completely. I struggle with him for a second but fight him long enough to run away.
I sprint through the pattio, past my boyfriend's disembowelled corpse and towards the other side of my house. He bursts through a glass window and pins me to the wet grass by my back.
I squirm around, desperate to escape. I break free, running, quite literally, for my life. He gets up behind me, I can feel his vice-like grip on my shoulder, I try to swat him away but he's already lodged a hunting knife in my chest.
I fall to the ground. Before I can even process what just happened, his hands are wrapped tightly around my throat, not in the sexy way but in the 'trying to kill me way'.
I kick him in the groin with every ounce of strength left. I get up and stumble towards my front door. Determined, to reach my parents. He wrestled me to the floor. I can't see his eyes through the mask but I can feel his smug gaze as he delivers the final, fatal blow.