SCREAM | a.a.

06

𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗟/𝗡 𝗛𝗢𝗨𝗦𝗘

𝗢𝗖𝗧𝗢𝗕𝗘𝗥 𝟯𝗥𝗗 , 𝟮𝟬𝟮𝟮
𝟭𝟬:𝟰𝟰 𝗣𝗠

— 👻🔪 —

y/n walks into a quiet house after spending an afternoon at connie springer's house. she isn't surprised to find all of the lights off and her parents' things gone. they were already out for a night on the town, even with everything that's been going on in trost.

she shoes off her sneakers and wanders through the quiet house she calls home like a ghost. she doesn't even make a pit stop in the kitchen and goes right up to her room.

y/n is an only child. she lives with her two parents in the middle of trost, surrounded by all of her friends and their families. and despite having no siblings, she's quiet used to having a rowdy house. whenever she isn't at connie's, she's here at her parents' house with her friends. they all like hanging out here because according to them, her parents are cool.

after a quick fifteen minute shower, y/n gets dressed into something comfortable and starts getting ready for bed.

her bedtime is usually around eleven and thankfully, it's almost eleven now.

the senior sits down at her vanity with a yawn. she first starts off by applying a cleanser to her face which is washed off by a warm washcloth. toner and moisturize follows. and by 10:50, she's cleaning up for bed.

she's about to settle in for the evening when her phone rings. y/n glances at the vibrating device with a tired sigh. "do i really need to?" she asks herself.

it could be important. her conscious speaks.

"fine." she huffs, picking up her phone.

she doesn't even look at the caller if before answering.

"uh, hello?" she says, sitting down on her bed.

she picks at her nails while she awaits an answer.

"hey there doll face." a deep raspy voice chuckles, "how're you doing? enjoying your... evening?"

y/n's eyebrows furrow. "heh?"

the masculine voice laughs. the speaker rustles before the voice says something. "i asked if you were enjoying your evening. so... are you?"

"i guess so," she shrugs, "but who are you exactly? you don't sound like someone i know."

"that's because you don't know me." the person states.

it's quiet for a moment. no one says anything. the man on the phone remains silent and so does y/n. but not for long.

"okay, well this was nice, but i'm going to bed. goodnight." she yawns, hanging up.

y/n is about to pit her phone on airplane mode when an unknown number she calls. she ignores the call. then the number calls back. what the hell? she mentally scoffs, tapping the screen to accept the call.

"what do you want?"

"listen you fucking slut, hang up again and i'll string you up by your fucking guts."

y/n pales, "excuse me?" she utters nervously. "listen, you're not very funny. stop messing around."

"do you think i'm fucking kidding? open your window."

y/n's heart suffers and her lungs seize. "huh?"

"open your god damn window!" the person yells.

with a yelp y/n jumps up off her bed and hurries over to her window. reluctantly, she pulls the curtains apart and peeks out. standing there in her yard is a tall figure wearing a black-on-black ourfit and a ghostface mask, a knife in his hand.

"hey there, sweetheart. god you look so hot. so—"

y/n hangs up and pulls her curtains shut. she hangs up on the man and hurries over go her door. the sound of it locking echoes in the silence. gulping down a ball of nerves, she runs over to her bed and flops down on the floor. with her short arms, she reaches under her bed for a baseball bat.

once the bat is secured in her hand, she grabs her phone and scoots over into the nearest corner. she's in the process of dialing 911 when the front door slams open.

"come on out, sweetheart. i swear i won't hurt you." a male voice yells from downstairs, sending a shock to y/n's heart. "i love you too much to hurt you."

tears well up in y/n's eyes. she can hear someone walking through her house, venturing from one room to another. they're at the stairs when the line to 911 finally connects.

"hello? this is 911, how can i help you?" a sweet operator asks, probably with a smile on her face.

"hi uhm... there's someone... there's someone in my house. they," she cries out, "they have a knife."

"what's your address, dear?"

y/n squeals when the ghost face stomps up the stairs. "if you're good for me, you'll be rewarded with a treat."

"my address is—"

the person—y/n assumes they're a man—laughs.

"i can hear you~" he chuckles, stepping closer to the door to y/n's room.

"my address is 2801 west trost road!" she hurries to say before her phone dies.

"shit!" she curses.

y/n throws her phone and pulls the bat closer to her chest. she can hear the sound of someone's boots stomping against the hardwood floor. the floor creaks beneath their weight.

then they stop. no more creaks and no more stomping. y/n doesn't move though. she doesn't breath and she doesn't blink. she's too scared to move.

she's about to get up and find another spot to hide when a knife gets thrown through her door. she yells out, "fuck!"

"gotcha!" the man screams.

it doesn't take much effort for him to break through what's left of her door. soon enough the man is standing in the doorway with the knife in his hand. if he wasn't wearing a mask, there would probably be a smirk on his face. "hey there doll face." he purrs, "come give daddy a hug." he chuckles, opening his arms.

against her better judgement, y/n stands up and steps closer to the psycho. he thinks she's going in for a hug like he said, but he's severely surprised. instead of getting a hug, he gets a face full of bat.

the metal bat connects with his face, earning a groan. "holy fuck!" he groans, his gloved hand reaching up to comfort his aching face. "i think you broke my fucking jaw you ugly bitch!"

he swings his knife through the air, a failed attempt to slash y/n. he misses and ends up chucking it at her. thankfully, she dodges and swings the bat again.

cling!

the metal bat hits his head and disorients the ghost face, giving y/n a chance to get away. she pushes the door out of her way and dashes down the hall. the ghost face isn't that far behind her. he collects himself after a moment and runs after her, his knife in his hand.

"get back here you slut!" he screams, reaching out for y/n.

she makes a sharp left and starts bounding down the stairs. y/n huffs and puffs. if she strains her ears hard enough, she can hear the police sirens in the distance.

it's when she gets to the living room that she realizes that the sound of boots slamming down against the hardwood floor has disappeared. she turns around to find no ghost face. she heaves a deep breath.

"hello? anyone there?" a soft voice calls out from behind the front door.

y/n peaks her head out from behind the living room wall to look through the glass of her front door. she can see two figures in black at the door, each of them without a mask.

"thank fucking god." she wheezes.