Chapter 001: Nothing's Gonna Stop Us Now
***
"HAPPY MOTHERFUCKING GRADUATION!"
Emmy's grin stretched wide across her face as her best friend, Quinn Thompson, bellowed it out as she, Emmy and their other best friends, Ben Montgomery and Sasha Richmond, threw their graduation caps into the air along with their classmates. Sasha was laughing and a manic grin stretched on Quinn's face as the caps fell down and she let go to flip both her middle fingers at Renvale High School, yelling, "Thanks for nothing, you shithole!"
"Quinn! It wasn't all that bad," Sasha exclaimed, a disapproving look on her face even as she laughed.
"I'm just being honest, Sash. It was a shithole," Quinn defended.
"You have a point," Sasha conceded, the disapproving look now replaced with a smile.
"Exactly," Quinn said, grinning as she turned back to Renvale High and raised her middle finger again. "See you never, hellhole! Hope to never come near you again!"
"And if we do it will be a day too soon!" Ben shouted as they all laughed—right as the moment the caps fell down, smacking them but they didn't care as the four best friends looped arms around each other and used their free hands to flip Renvale High off again. Because Quinn was right. It had been a hellhole and Emmy was thrilled to have graduated at last, that she could escape both it and Renvale—and she'd have her three best friends by her side.
Lowering their hands, Ben turned to them and asked as he pinched his graduation robe, "Okay, we've said our farewells and flipped off an educational building. Who wants to get these things off?"
"I do. This thing is giving me a rash, I swear to God," Quinn said, an irritated look on her face as she glared at the purple-and-white graduation robes as Emmy deadpanned, "Oh no, graduation robe hives. What a tragedy."
"Come on, as if you're not in as much hell as I am, Ems," Quinn countered, a teasing grin on his face.
"Maybe, but I'm not as vocal about it," Emmy returned, a smirk on her face as Quinn scoffed and elbowed her. Emmy returned it.
"No, Ben and Quinn are right, these things are uncomfortable as hell. Let's get out of here," Sasha agreed, and it was a mutual thought—as nice as the whole graduation ceremony had been, Emmy was eager to go home and get out of this robe that was seriously itchy—like, did the people who made these things made them out of the itchiest material known to man? It was honestly a miracle Emmy hadn't thrown it off and endured the rest of the ceremony in her shirt and jeans.
But as the four friends made to leave, one of Ben's team members shouted, "BONFIRE IN REAGAN WOODS EVERYBODY! Hey, Ben, you and Sasha comin'?"
"Yeah, Dylan. And we're bringing the rest of the gang," Ben answered, as he and Sasha grabbed Emmy and Quinn and they grinned tight grins.
"Oh bringing the whole Scooby Gang with you! Nice," Dylan said, as two other boys on the team chuckled and Dylan went with them, cheering and whooping as the grins fell and in unison Emmy and Quinn flipped them off.
"Assholes," Emmy muttered as she glowered at them.
"I don't get why they don't think we wouldn't be coming without you guys. I mean, us four are a package deal," Sasha observed, an annoyed look on her face.
"Well, good news is that we're never gonna see those dickheads ever again," Ben commented.
"Aren't they still your teammates?" Quinn questioned.
"Yeah, but most of them are assholes. I'd much rather hang out with you guys than them," Ben said, and Emmy's heart warmed.
"Feeling's mutual, Ben. You guys are the best friends I could ever had," Emmy replied, before she pointed at her friends and added in a jokingly menacing tone, "But don't tell anyone that. I have a reputation to uphold."
"What reputation?" Quinn fired back.
"Uh, being a loner. Duh," Emmy replied, as she fought a smirk.
"Hate to break it to you, Ems, you never had much of a loner reputation," Ben said as he patted her shoulder in condolence as Emmy glared at him. "If anyone had a reputation, it was Quinn."
"And I take that with pride," Quinn chimed in, grinning. It was true—it was well-known in Renvale High that Quinn Thompson was not the girl you messed with. Many teachers gave her detention when she punched assholes in the face that were racist to Emmy and Ben or sexist pricks or were just assholes, started fights, talked back to the occasional dickish teacher and one time set Sean Hanway's hair on fire. It earned Quinn a reputation of being a troublemaker and menace, and that didn't take into account when Quinn would smash a bat into the cars of assholes who were either racist to her closest friends or tried to mess with her and Emmy behind Sasha's and Ben's backs or were just plain dicks, keyed their doors, and would get into brawls with guys who hadn't grown past their asshole high school days, often landing her in the police station. Quinn took pride in it, flaunted it even, and made it clear—that Quinn Thompson was as fiery as her hair, and if you messed with her or her friends, you were going to get burned pretty quickly.
But as much as Quinn had a notorious reputation, it'd be a lie if all of them didn't have ones—being part of the popular crowd due to being a basketball jock and a cheerleader, respectfully, Ben and Sasha had that as their reputation but Ben called out the assholery and never hid his love of Star Wars or that he was frighteningly good at science and that it was clear even as nice as he was, if you messed with his friends then he could throw a punch and it land, and Sasha had been a golden girl who was genuinely freaking nice to people and just a decent, genuine person that everyone adored and could never find a good reason to hate her—but don't let the niceness fool you, as Sasha was terrifyingly good at pranks, especially revenge pranks. And Emmy...
Emmy wasn't kidding with being a loner. Before she met Quinn, Ben and Sasha as kid in middle school, she'd been a loner and still was, never really making any friends outside of her best friends, content to hide in her denim jacket and headphones and Stephen King books, quiet and deadpan who got good grades and dreamed of getting out of this small town, and delivering a terrifying death glare to anyone who dared to screw with her friends.
It was honestly a surprise the four of them still remained so close past their middle school days, but Emmy was glad for it. She loved her friends, and really couldn't imagine another group of people she'd be friends with.
"Seriously, you guys... you really are the best. I'm glad we went into high school and survived it as friends. I can't imagine anyone else as my best friends," Emmy said, sincerity in her tone as she smiled at them.
"We love you too, Ems," Sasha replied, as they hugged each other.
"Yeah, just don't get too mushy on us," Quinn said in a mock-serious tone.
"Have you met me, Quinn? I'm the least mushy person ever," Emmy deadpanned as Quinn threw her head back and laughed, as Ben shook his head and grinned and Sasha just smiled, as Emmy felt her own smile returning as she looked at these people, her best friends, her closest friends, that she would do anything for—whether it was movie nights where'd they argue over movies before deciding on Star Wars and Breakfast Club and the horror movies they all collectively loved, when they hung out together whether at the diner, at the movies or just at each other's houses, on when they all endured studying together and Emmy and Quinn and Ben played basketball while Sasha cheered from the sidelines, how Emmy and Quinn were always there at Ben's games and Sasha cheers, when Ben, Quinn and Sasha were there at Emmy's Quinceañera and made it even better for Emmy to have her best friends there with her, how the four of them comforted each other when Emmy, Ben and Quinn had come out and Sasha was both a great friend and ally, when they comforted each other in broken hearts and when Quinn keyed car doors, some of them belonged to the boys who'd broken Sasha's heart or the boys and girls that had broken Quinn's and Ben's hearts and were dicks about and Emmy was there smashing the windows in with a baseball bat and Sasha spray painting the sides of the car while Ben was the getaway driver ever since he'd gotten a car for his sixteenth birthday and they run away after into the car laughing like maniacs and driving away into the night or the midnight runs to the general store after they'd snuck out to grab as much junk food and soft drink as possible and drive out to the outskirts of town and cheer and yell at the sky and just be teenagers and maybe feel like the third-graders they'd been when they bonded for life after Quinn punched Sean Hanway in the nose when he pulled Sasha's braids and Emmy tripped him when he tried to get back up and Ben shoved him when he got up again and slapped Sasha, and Sasha had made them all friendship bracelets they still wore today.
And now, they'd graduated, and to Emmy, she felt like she was on top of the fucking world.
"Guys, we did it. We made it through these years. Now, we're gonna get out, go to college, and take over the world," Ben declared, Quinn nodding in agreement while Sasha rolled her eyes and Emmy smirked.
"Fuck yes to that," Quinn said empathetically. "Scooby Gang taking over the world! Nothing's gonna stop us now!"
They cheered at that, the four of them holing each other because Quinn was right—nothing was gonna stop them now. And though the nickname was a taunt, it felt fitting. They were the Scooby Gang, and nothing was gonna stop them or tear them apart.
Absolutely nothing.
***
The graduation celebrations had to cease momentarily—and would be picking up at the bonfire with more beer and more weed than there'd been at the graduation ceremony—and after they'd had their photos taken by proud parents, and maybe surprised in Quinn's case, the Scooby Gang split up and went home.
The minute she was home, the first thing Emmy did was take off her robes and relishing in the freedom of not feeling the itchy fabric anymore. The second was Emmy heading into her room and collapsing into bed as she grabbed her favourite book, IT, as Edge Of Seventeen played in her Walkman, ready to unwind a bit before she had to get ready for the bonfire party.
Before she could, her walkie crackled.
"Emmy, do you copy? Over."
Rolling her eyes with a fond smirk, Emmy paused her Walkman and lowered her book and picked up the walkie, saying, "You're such a nerd for still using this, Ben. Over."
"Hey, you're as much a nerd as me for using this as well, Ems. Over."
"No, you're still pretty much the nerd amongst us, Ben. Over," Quinn chimed in dryly.
"And here I thought I escaped that by becoming a jock. Over," was the teasing reply back.
"You can't escape being a nerd, you nerd. No amount of basketball can erase it. Over."
"Care to challenge that?"
"Can you guys stop flirting for a second? This is an open channel, remember? Over," Sasha's voice cut in, a teasing lilt in it.
"Thank you, Sash, for ending my misery. I thought it'd never end. Over," Emmy snarked, a smirk playing on her lips.
"We, uh, w-we weren't flirting," Ben denied.
"Sure you weren't," Emmy said drily.
"Seriously, we weren't. We're just friends," Quinn said, and Emmy could see her friend rolling her eyes.
"Hmm-mm, okay," Sasha replied, obviously not buying it, but she dropped it along with Emmy—they wouldn't push it. And it was all lighthearted teasing anyway.
Silence ticked by until Emmy said, "So... what was the reason behind this, nerd?"
Ben scoffed as Sasha explained, "It was actually my idea. I was thinking we could all head over to my house and do something pre-bonfire. Just the four of us."
"No, that's a great idea! I'll get ready and head over to your place," Emmy said as she got off her bed and headed to her closet, trying to find something that was both comfortable and fitting of a party.
"You sure? I can pick you up—I'm picking up Ben and Quinn as well," Sasha offered as Ben dryly commented, "Yeah, because the last time Quinn offered she nearly crashed us into a street pole."
"Hey, I swerved away in time! We all got out alive and without any injuries," Quinn defended, sarcasm thick in her words.
"Tell that to my mental scars."
"Nah, I'm good to walk, it's not far. Over," Emmy said before Quinn and Ben could continue their old married couple bickering.
"Okay. But if you need me to pick you up, walkie me and I'll come get you. Over."
"Very much noted. Thanks, Sasha. Over and out," Emmy replied as she turned off the walkie and put it on her bed, grabbing the outfit and quickly changing into it. Grabbing her bag, Emmy put the walkie in it before slinging it over her shoulder and grabbing her Walkman and headphones, the Walkman at her hip and headphones around her neck as she walked out of her room and down the stairs, saying, "Bye, guys, I'm heading over to Sasha's."
"Okay, mija! Stay safe!" her mother called out from the kitchen.
Emmy rolled her eyes. "Mom, I'm gonna be fine and it's not that far."
"A mother never stops worrying, mija," her mom replied as she bustled out of the kitchen, giving her a smile. "Just be careful, okay mija?"
"I will be. Promise," Emmy assured as she opened the door. "Adios. ¡Te los quiero!"
Emmy closed the door before she could hear the reply back as she raised her headphones over her ears and replayed her mixtape, walking down the street toward Sasha's house, hands in her jeans pockets as Edge Of Seventeen transitioned into Running Up That Hill (A Deal With God).
As Emmy walked down the street, she looked at the familiar houses and well-kept lawns, the streets silent and calm—teens like her celebrating already at the bonfire in Reagan Woods, kids at the arcade or the movies or at their friends' houses, maybe even nerdy kids playing D&D like Ben had played it years ago. A sense of summer was in the air, and yet there was still enough of a spring chill that Emmy didn't entirely forsake her denim jacket as it provided warmth and a shield against the cold, a breeze whistling through the green leaves of trees as manicured as the lawns and making them sigh and shake. While Emmy's street wasn't as rich as Rose Avenue where Sasha lived, Pine Street was pretty well off—a given, with how close the two places were. But these streets were where Emmy had grown up roaming along them, exploring every inch of it when not running wild in the woods or along the streets of downtown, with her friends by her side, whether being kids or to seek out trouble, Emmy didn't know and she hardly cared. Even as they all earned their licences and took turns in who'd be the driver in their car, Emmy preferred to walk to Sasha's side of town, to take it in and remember the memories.
And maybe it was hitting her harder in this moment, that in a few months she'd leave Renvale. Not that Emmy cared—she hated this town, hated what a hellhole it was underneath the small town charm, the mundanity of it, that she couldn't wait to get out and head to MIT and pursue a career forensic science like she always wanted to and live in a city like New York or Chicago, to maybe try and pursue a relationship though she had strong doubts of it being more than romantic. Just to get away from Renvale. And yet, looking at those houses, at these streets, it tugged at Emmy, a sense of nostalgia for this small town beating in her heart, of how it did have a little bit of charm, that it was all she ever really known and that when summer came and gone, she'd be out of here and never likely to see it again except to visit her parents. To leave it in the dust and not give it a second look back.
Not like that was enough to have her stay and be like everyone else in Renvale. Emmy would leave, would go to college and pursue her dreams. To get as far from Renvale as she possibly could, from its small town trap and what it tried so desperately to hide yet everyone knew and whispered about, and—
Something whispered behind her.
Emmy jumped, turning around to see no one behind her, to instead see a desolate street, leaves scattering across the road and sidewalk from a breeze that felt colder than earlier.
"Hello?" she called out, thinking a neighbour must have called out as she paused her mixtape and looked at the street. But there was no one outside, no one walking the streets or driving down the road, not even a dog barking or birds chirping. Just a stillness over the street, that almost felt eerie and... unnatural.
Something whispered past her again, something cold and indistinct—her name, something else, Emmy didn't know—and she looked around, trying to find any sign of life and calm her steadily increasing heart rate, saying, "Okay, if this is some graduation prank, you got me, Ha-hah, it's really funny. Dylan, Sean, Jack, you can hop out of the bushes now."
But they didn't, as that cold, whispery thing shuddered over Emmy and every hair on her skin prickled, in the sense of fear, and something... else.
"Hello?" Emmy called out, but her voice was less sure than it was earlier as she looked around a third time, again registering how eerie and still everything was, even the wind dying away. Like all sense of life had been eliminated from the world.
Emmy swallowed as she turned back and muttered, "It's nothing, Torres. You're hearing things. Just the wind."
Something touched her shoulder, grazed her neck.
Emmy jolted, grabbing out the switchblade knife in her jacket pocket she always kept with her since two years ago, to see—
Nothing. Nothing but the same rows of houses she'd always seen behind their imaginary white-picket fences all of her life, nothing but the same, empty street she'd grown up on.
And yet it was too still, too eerie, too cold, even as something seemed to tremble in the air. Something that might be wind. Something that might not be.
Lowering the switchblade, Emmy flicked it close as she chided herself, "There's no one there. It's just your imagination. It's just the wind. Just the fucking wind."
Putting it back in her jacket pocket, Emmy turned back, as the cold brushed past her again and she found herself instead of walking across to looking down the crossroads between Rose Avenue, and...
And Ashwood Drive, where it was.
The Morrow House.
Everyone in Renvale knew about Morrow House—how could anyone not know about it? They knew how in 1947, Harold Morrow had snapped and killed his entire family and claimed he'd been possessed, locked away in an asylum after pleading guilty, and then twenty years later four girls had been horrifically killed inside it on a graduation dare that lasted twenty years that was never succeeded and never attempted again after '67. No one knew who killed the girls, but it was heavily suspected Harold Morrow had done it after breaking it and then locked away again.
And they all knew that Morrow House was rumoured to be haunted, that ghosts wandered its abandoned halls. That it was in whispered conversation among adults and in ghost stories for teens and kids, something they'd all grown up hearing—that Emmy grew up hearing.
And she knew that it was all bullshit.
There was no such thing as ghosts or even demons. Yes, there were brutal murders in it and yeah, the house was extremely creepy, but ghosts didn't exist, and Emmy had stopped believing they were real when she was a kid. It was just a house—an old, creepy house. Not haunted.
Yet, Emmy still kept looking down Ashwood Drive, as if she could see the Morrow House with its boarded-up windows and plant-choked pillars and roof, it's peeling, time-weathered paint, could see it in all its abandoned, decaying glory. As her skin prickled at the eerie stillness remaining in the air, in the world, that something cold and intangible still brushing against her that felt like the wind, that had to be wind, but not quite, something now whispering down below Ashwood Drive, and while something inside Emmy was screaming to walk down Sasha's street and get to her house, her feet, her body, turned to Ashwood Drive, to Morrow House, the stillness again trembling as the afternoon shadows seemed to stretch longer, to distort, that it seemed almost as if something was reach—
"Emmy! Emmy, do you copy? Where are you? Over!"
Emmy jolted and twisted to zip open her bag and grab her walkie out, saying, "Yeah, I copy. I, uh... I'm at the intersection between Rose and Ashwood. Over."
"Okay. Sorry, just got a little worried. Over."
"It's fine. I'll be there soon, Sash. Over and out," Emmy answered as she turned the walkie off again and walked to Rose Avenue, leaving Ashwood Drive and the Morrow House behind. When she did, life seemed to return as Emmy could hear birds singing and a dog barking in a yard, the wind seeming a little warmer, the shadows a little bit smaller, a little less still. A little less watchful.
Emmy kept herself from looking back as she continued walking down the street—because there was nothing she needed to look back, because there was nothing there. That it couldn't be—
No. It was just your imagination. There was nothing there. Nothing that you can explain or you know isn't real. You're not a kid anymore. It was just a really creepy moment. It was nothing.
And yet Emmy didn't look back at that crossroads, at Ashwood Drive, and didn't stop feeling unnerved until she saw Sasha's house—well, mansion felt more appropriate, a grandness about it that didn't fit her kind and humble best friend.
At seeing it, the feeling disappeared entirely as Emmy walked up the pathway between the manicured lawn to the house of her childhood best friend, that had become like another home to her now, and knocked on the double doors.
One opened, revealing Quinn, a Twizzler in her mouth, grinning.
"Look who's finally here!" she declared.
"Yeah, sorry, I.. I got distracted," Emmy answered as she walked inside and Quinn closed the door.
"Sure," Quinn said as she munched on the Twizzler, the two walking to Sasha's living room, Quinn pausing before she added, "I'm glad you're okay, Ems."
"I'm fine, Quinn. I mean, we just graduated—I'm more than fine," Emmy answered, and they grinned as they entered the living room, where Emmy saw Sasha and Ben sitting on the couch. At seeing her, relief filled Sasha's and Ben's faces.
"Oh, thank God. I was getting worried—I thought you'd gotten lost," Sasha said as she stood up, Ben following her.
"I'd need a shitty sense of direction to not know where your house is by now, Sash," Emmy reminded, but the sarcasm wasn't biting since she could see genuine worry on her best friends' faces, hugging Sasha and Ben to let them know she was okay.
When they pulled apart, Emmy grinned when she saw was on the screen of Sasha's TV.
"I assume this thing for the four of us was watching a movie?" Emmy asked as she sat down on the couch, seeing a bowl of popcorn and snacks there.
"Yep," Sasha affirmed, grinning as Ben, Quinn and Sasha also sat down. Ben handed the popcorn to Emmy, taking a grateful handful as Sasha grabbed the remote and had it resume playing, the opening credits for Nightmare On Elm Street rolling out.
"God, I love this movie so much," Emmy said as she leaned back, resting against Quinn.
"Yeah, and Nancy's a good final girl," Ben agreed.
"She damn right is. Not quite with Ripley, but she's still a good final girl," Quinn stated, raising her Coke can as Sasha did the same in salute to Nancy Thompson and the badass that was Ellen Ripley.
"Imagine if we had to go through something like this in real life," Ben joked as Sasha sipped her Coke.
Emmy rolled her eyes. "Please, we'd either not survive the first half or end up kicking Freddy's ass."
"I put bets on us kicking Freddy's ass—dream demon against us four? No contest," Quinn stated, grinning like a slasher.
"He'd be running from us instead," Ben said, he and Quinn sharing that slasher grin.
"I mean, with us four together, who really stands a chance?" Sasha pointed out.
"Nothing," Ben replied. "Absolutely nothing."
"Cheers to that," Quinn stated, clinking her can with Emmy's, Ben's and Sasha's before they took a drink and sat back to watch the horror movie, grinning about the movie and the jokes. Because it was just that—jokes.
Because their lives weren't some horror movie. There were no Freddy Kruegers, no slashers, no monsters in real life.
And no ghosts or demons haunting Morrow House.
***
Oh boy, what a great group of friends! I hope nothing horrifying ever happens to them!
But seriously, I loved writing Emmy, Quinn, Ben and Sasha so much! You got to know them and their group dynamic before the shitshow that is Morrow House and I hope you love them as much as I do!
Also, Emmy 🤝 Rowan: Loving Stephen King and having him as their favourite author
And with Quinn and Ben... maybe there's something there. Maybe there isn't. It's up to any interpretation if there's something more than just friendship there ;)
And even though this is lighthearted, we got some spookiness happening... and something not normal about Emmy, that she can sense something >:)
But the bonfire is next—and after that, we'll be getting into the plot and the horror. Hope you're ready >:)
Spanish translations:
Mija: Daugher
Adios: Bye
¡Te los quieros!: Love you!
Please read, comment and vote!
GhostWriterGirl out!