𝙐𝙣𝙩𝙞𝙩𝙡𝙚𝙙 𝙂𝙝𝙤𝙨𝙩𝙛𝙖𝙘𝙚 𝙁𝙖𝙣𝙛𝙞𝙘𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣

Ring Ring, Mothertrucker

(Y/N POV)

"Oh, shut the hell up!" I yelled at the landline, which was ringing for the fifth time in a span of two minutes. 

I was in my sibling's room, sifting through their desk as I searched for my chemistry textbook, which had recently disappeared into thin air. Somehow. I was determined to find it, not because I necessarily wanted to do the reading, but because all of the answers to the homework questions were in it, and I am a total cheater. I figured that my sibling could've taken it, so when my parents left to watch their basketball game, I took the opportunity to raid their room. Unfortunately, I was turning up nothing but their own crusty assignments.

Having no luck, I stalked out of the room. 

"I guess I'll just have to use Google for my answers, then," I murmured to myself as I shut the door behind me and made my way over to the couch. My house didn't have hallways; rooms just blended into each other. My sibling had the only bedroom on the bottom floor, and it was connected to the entryway and living room. Just off of the living room was our kitchen, where one could access the ever-ringing landline. 

RIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIING!!!!!

"Oh, for the love of Christ!" I yelled as I got up from the couch and checked the caller ID. Unknown Caller. I simply blocked the number and went back to the living room. My parents had drilled it into my head that you shouldn't answer the phone if you didn't know who was calling, and I wasn't about to just throw their advice out the window. 

(3rd Person POV: Ghostface)

Silence.

"D-did she fucking block me?!" he sputtered as he stared at the small black burner phone in his hand. He tried calling again, with the same results. "Argh!" He threw the phone onto the concrete and tip-toed over to the window, peeking in. The reflection of his long, slender white mask, stuck in a permanent cry of terror, stared back at him as he observed his target wandering around her kitchen. She was so oblivious. That could only be fun for so long. 

He needed to get her attention somehow.

(Y/N POV)

"I had a tiny turtle, his name was Tiny Tim; I put him in the bathtub, to see if he could swim," I sang under my breath as I stared into the fridge, willing better snacks to suddenly appear inside. When I finally gave up the notion that mozzarella sticks would just magic themselves into the dairy drawer, I pulled out an apple instead. 

"This'll have to do," I sighed as I took a huge bite. I heard some faint tapping from the glass door that lead from our kitchen into the courtyard. I ignored it, as stray cats often wandered into our yard. I assumed that the tapping was coming from that. 

Bang!

I doubted that came from a cat, though. 

Wiping the fruit juice from my mouth, I opened the bottom shutters, expecting to see a disoriented bird on the ground, but found nothing. I looked though the one above it too, checking for any marks the bird might've left. Instead of the residue usually left behind by bird feathers, I found a sticky note.

Unblock me, bitch.

"Oh, heck no," I said as I meandered back to the phone and dialed 911. Judging from where the station was, units could be at my house in two minutes, tops.