The soul electric (Ghostface x reader)

𝙲𝚛𝚎𝚎𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚜

QUICK THING I FORGOT TO MENTION: in the movie I took Darry from, his character was only 19. But if I did the math right, the actor was around 22, like (y/n), Randy, and Sidney. And since the movie he was in came out in 2001 and this story takes place in 2000, we're going to say he's 21.

Randy had invited Darry to the house so that they could get to know each other better. You knew why. Randy was panicking. You couldn't blame him, you were too. You had approached him with the note, and you both realized that there was no proof as to who sent you the letter. So you couldn't go to the police and claimed that Billy and Stu were suddenly back after three years.

So you were prepping to handle any killers within your own home. Police support or no, you knew who it was. The 'forever' thing was a direct callback to Stu telling you that you were stuck with him and William forever. So, you were preparing any and everything that could be used as a weapon, and you were going through all of Marshmallow's commands. Especially the attack and defense ones.

"Wow, you really have a guard dog," Darry muttered. "That gory movie shit must've had some truth to it."

"Gale's movies understated what happened," Randy deadpanned. "Her books weren't the most honest either."

"Plus, you can never be to careful," you added.

"Or too paranoid," Randy stated.

"You keep saying that. But when you're not trapped in another car getting stabbed, you're gonna thank me."

"Wow, so the van scene in 'Stab 2' actually happened? That gave me nightmares when I first watched it," Darry stated.

"Yeah, it gave me nightmares too. And scars," Randy said dramatically, moving his shirt so some of the scars from the van incident were visible.

"Holy shit," Darry muttered.

"Yep. The movies actually undersold what happened," Randy explained. "Such as leading people to believe that Billy and Stu died in Windsor. The two are creepers."

"God dammit, I told Trish I'd never deal with killers again," Darry mumbled.

"Wait, you've dealt with murder bullshit too," you questioned, genuinely surprised.

Darry seemed so much calmer compared to the people from Woodsboro. He still enjoyed horror movies, but didn't over-analyze them for survival tactics like Randy. He lived freely unlike Sidney, didn't have major injuries that left him disabled like Dewey, and he didn't struggle to speak like a normal person like you. Oh, and he wasn't a fucking asshole like Gale.

"Yeah. A few years ago, me and my sister were chased by... something. It wasn't human," Darry began. "It followed us in a beat up truck. It was hunting us. It... it ate people."

"Sweet Jesus Christ on a bike," you muttered.

"Yeah. I'm not sure where it is now, though. And Trish found a way to sell our story to get a movie. It's coming out sometime next year," Darry finished.

"So, was it like an alien," Randy asked.

"We don't know," Darry shrugged.

"So... like an inhuman science experiment then?"

Before Darry could answer any more of Randy's weird questions, Marshmallow went bezerk. They were barking, sprinting around, jumping up on the door, going from window to window. The beast had gone mad.

Randy jumped up from his spot on the couch and quickly went towards the cabinet under the television set. Hidden inside was a shotgun. Fully loaded, safety off, all one had to do was aim and fire.

You and the now armed and dangerous Randy (something that shouldn't exist) approached the front door, and you hesitantly opened it. Randy jumped into the doorway proudly holding up the weapon, ready to fire at will. But no one was out there.

Well, no one except for the mother and her small child that Randy had just traumatized.

"Ack- sorry, sorry! Thought you were a killer," Randy apologized loudly.

The mother glared at Randal while she scooped up her kid before quickly power walking as far from your house as possible.

But during that tabocle, you noticed an envelope taped up to the door. And your name was written real big in bright yellow crayon. You gently ripped it off of the door, and made your way inside. Randy quickly followed, scared out of his wits that the lady was gonna call the cops on him.

This was his first night in with his soulmate, he didn't want to spend it in jail!

You took a seat at the kitchen table to read through the letter from the door, while Randy put the gun away and sat back down in the living room.

You slowly ripped open the envelope, and pulled out the paper that was nestled inside. Written in crayon...

Was yet another pickup line. Honestly, why were you expecting anything else?

'I think there's something wrong with my eyes
I can't get them off you'

Now, while that message took up most of the page, there was something else there. Another note for you at the bottom, written in pen. It was far more together than the crayon scribblings before it, and this part was written in blue pen.

'Someone out there's coming for you. Pray we don't beat them to it.'

And with that, you tore up the page. You ripped it up into a million tiny little pieces. You'd tell Randy about it once Darry left. You didn't want to bother him on his date night, if you could call it that. It was more of a: get to know a little bit about you night.

You never got that opportunity (to be fair, you didn't want it then, and you don't want it now). Instead, you got to watch your friends die around you. Twice. And now a third time.

You were never getting away from this shit, were you?

The notes, the murders, the death that inevitably followed you wherever you go. You'd be stuck with it now and forever.

A/n: I THOUGHT I PUBLISHED THIS A WHILE AGO, FUCK

Also, I need to mess with my brother. He hates many of my interests, but right now he really despises FNaF, and TF2 for some reason. I can understand FNaF with movie hype, but TF2? But FNaF has a lot of unfinished fics, and TF2 has a lot of one-shot stuff.

But here comes the clincher: he has recently descovered YouTuber egos. And that doesn't have all that much. But if I use that, I'll have officially reached the point of no return.

So essentially, I'm fucked. There's no good ending to this shit.