Stu Macher | Ghostface #02

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MC: gothic & bookworm. baby's first request so don't flame me in the comments. btw, the term final-girl is used to describe reader but they're still GN.

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you can't believe your own eyes, your body froze at the commotion that blocked woodsboro high. police-cars, news-vans and people alike crowded all your senses in a way that felt almost hysteric. you gripped your book closer to your body as you tried to squeeze through the hordes of people, fearing that you might drop it.

a few beige-shirted policeman sauntered into the school hallways, opening the door to the princupal's and pushing in a line of students one by one for interrogation. it was a murder, if any of the reporters or police-radio chatter that you overhead were any right. it made you feel weirdly vulnerable.

you stepped closer trying to look for any familiar faces until you feel a pair or arms wrap around your midsection and try to lift you up by the waist, you almost dropped the novel you were reading from the disorienting action, flailing until you heard a familiar chuckle and the feeling of steady-floor return to the soles of your boots.

"heeeeeeey..." a voice drawled out, spelling out your name syllable by syllable, "how's my favorite mall goth?"

"stu! i almost dropped my bookmark! the fuck's going on?"

"casey becker and her boyfriend what-his-face were murdered last night, they think one of us did it." he whispered like it was some sort of conspiracy.

"wasn't she your ex..? any feelings you want to talk about..?" you awkwardly offered, tensing at how light his tone sounded while talking about something so grim.

"cute! but no thanks. i'm actually glad that the bitch and her boyfriend are six-feet apart underground, specially after... i dumped her, pluuuuus, i still have you!"

"did you say the the same thing to your girlfriend?" you chided.

"nope! just you." he dips you side to side while still hugging you, pushing his chin over your shoulder to put emphasis on his point, turning his head and making eye-contact.

"hey, you! the kid who crawled from a black-white movie, get in here!" a hoarse voice called out for whom you're pretty sure was supposed to be you.

"that's your cue, c'mon i'll chaperone you." he let go of your waist, instead dragging you by the sleeve of your jacket, until you were at the principal's, pushing you through the door carelessly. you flipped him off as he began to wave you goodbye.

"well, if it isn't our favorite dress-code breaker." the principal, mr himbry, greeted. he had a stern face, matching the grim circumstances but the slight jab softened his tone.

"mister himbry." you greeted back.

"do you mind telling me what you we're doing last night." one of the sheriffs questioned.

"straight to the point, officer." you laughed nervously.

you left the office absolutely drained, the book you've been reading missing from your person.

"so..." you jolted from the voice, "how did it go?" you turned around to see that it was stu, again. he propped himself against the wall, hand resting on his hip in a exaggerated nonchalance.

"shit, you almost gave me a damn heart attack. didn't the first bell ring? you skipping class?"

"well, you were taking too long and i was getting curious... so i just had to go to the bathroom, what happened that made you look so pissed, halloween?"

"fucking pigs thought i did it. even said it was because of..." you fumbled your words in your angry rant, "they even took my book because of it, as possible evidence." you air-quoted.

his goofy-smiled toned down, "... the the one by the stroke guy?" he stopped leaning against the wall, getting back on his feet to stand in front of you.

"brahm stoker... yeah, it was hardcover too." you grieved.

"want me to sneak in to try to bring it back to you?" he joked.

"with your level of subtlety? pass."

"i mean... if i get rid of the witnesses..."  he raised his hands in a defensive way, tilting his head with a thinking expression.

"pffft... i'm starting to think you're the killer they're after."

he tilted his head at that, his smile widening at the thought, "that's a plot-twist, think i'll be in the sequel? i mean, i don't mind making you my final-girl."

"is that what you're worried about?"

"i mean, can you run in high heels?", you raise an eyebrow at the question, making him backtrack, "wait stupid question, of course you can." he smiles.

"god, just say you have a thing for me." you groaned

he smiled, you playfully scoffed, "still up for that party?"

"and get killed early like in your movies?" 

"don't worry, i'll totally protect you. die trying, even."

"yeah, right." you jokingly punched his chest, making him fumble slightly backwards as you began to walk away.

you blink. makeup smeared against your face, turning fresh again thanks to the sweat on your skin, like paint thinner.

you don't remember how and what series of events lead to this, but your adrenaline-doped brain is too focused on trying to live instead of skimming the whatever fucking part of your brain that handled memories. although you won't have to worry about it anyway since you're sure that when you're dead, your life will flash before your eyes.

your body squishes itself against the corner of the wall, the soles of your boots skidding against the floor as you tried to press yourself further away from him.

"surprise," the ghostface--- no, stu, sang, pulling off the mask off of his face, his face slightly shiny from condensation and your little scuffle from earlier, "you pack a heavy punch, i'm feeling a lot woozy as well."

"mr. i-planned-the-murders kinda pissed at me for straying from script and killing the cop, but... i think it's worth it, i got a surprise for you, you're gonna love this one." he held the spine of the book in an almost careless-careful way, grabbing it in way that made you fear that he would drop it but at the same time you could tell that he had a steady grip on it.

"easy, easy, c'mon... don't be shy," he extended the book in his hand towards you, shaking it slightly like it was a bag of treats, "sorry about the blood, funny since this is a book about vampires and well, they drink blood." 

his smile dropped, "take it."

you slowly reached our, hand trembling from both fear and exhaustion, glacing at his face every once in a while, watching him for any indication that he might change his mind.

you held the book, close to your chest, running your finger across the texture of the cover for comfort.

you froze when he reached a hand out, licking his thumb and pressing it to your forced-shut eyelid making a wiping motion, further messing up your eyeshadow, smearing it until the dark paint drooped down to your cheek like long eyebags.

he hummed, tapping his chin in thought, "something's missing." 

he grabbed your chin, then basically smacked his lips against yours, it was less like kissing but as if he was trying to smear both of your faces with your own dark-tinted balm, trying to spread the paint around your jaw and chin.

"now we're matching!" he lifts up the screaming mask to the side of his face, his own giddy, almost dazed, smile smeared with black lipstick.

"you'll look even better with more actual blood, because i don't think corn-syrup will work this time"

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i'm not rlly used to writing about goofier-type of yans but this was a fun challenge! i made this (kinda) tame since i didn't know what to exactly add but it's the space for criativity that made this fun.

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