𝐋𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐓𝐚𝐢𝐥𝐨𝐫 [Stu Macher x F! Reader x Billy Loomis]

𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐮𝐞: 𝐋𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐍𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐂𝐚𝐥𝐥

❝ [P R O L O G U E] ❞

̶̶̶̶ ̶«̶ ̶̶̶ ̶ ̶ ̶̶̶ ̶«̶ ̶̶̶ ̶ Late Night Call  ̶»̶ ̶̶̶ ̶ ̶ ̶̶̶ ̶»̶ ̶̶̶ ̶ ̶

Somebody's Watching Me • Rockwell
Volume: ▮▮▮▮▮▮▯▯▯
↻ ◁ II ▷ ↺

August 19, 1996

IT WAS NOT UNCOMMON FOR YOU to find yourself awake in the middle of the night. Glancing at the clock beside your trusty sewing machine, you read the glowing red numbers that displayed '10:49' and despite feeling tired, you remained awake to complete this request from a schoolmate.

It made you sigh but you weren't sure if it was because you were tired or not from making this simple request but you did feel accomplished that you finished it.

Snipping the thread off the skirt's finishing line, you carefully lifted it from the presser foot. You smile with contentment but with a tinge of tiredness, nevertheless, you liked seeing the improvements in your sewing skills, thanks to your precious sewing machine.

Gazing over the light purple checkered patterns of the commissioned skirt you had just finished, that smile never grazed away from your face. It's like it gave you a sense of endearment despite noticing the faded cuts and little bits of dried blood apparent on both of your hands.

As you turned the clothing over, exhaustion weighed heavily on your eyelids, wishing that you didn't make another mistake of measuring the wrong measurement again. Hoping to open your eyes and find a flawlessly completed skirt, your concentration was interrupted by the shrill ring of the phone in your small, makeshift garage which you call your workroom.

The echoing ring pierced through the door, causing you to groan in frustration. You really wanted to check the skirt out but decided to do it after addressing the call, reluctantly rising from your chair and feeling a little wobbly from the hours you spent sitting on the chair, working on the simple skirt.

As you make your way to the ringing phone, you pick it up, and heave a sigh when you were greeted by silence - 'Not this again.' You think to yourself, rolling your tired eyes. "Why even bother ringing the phone when you won't even answer." You grumble, very tired as you feel your back ache.

You put a hand on your back and waited for another three seconds for the caller to speak but silence only emits and it was time for you to hang up just as you were about to hang up, a deep voice finally emerged from the phone, "Hello?"

The voice was deep and chilling, something that can send shivers down your spine but at the same time, you can picture this same voice as an old man who scolds children to get out of his lawn.

Your brows peaked in surprise and you brought the phone back to your ear. "Hello, mister."

"Who is this?"

Letting out a sigh, you glanced at the phone line, searching for any indication of familiarity in the anonymous number, 'Another lost elderly again, huh.'

"Who were you trying to call?" You asked, your voice laced with a hint of concern as you rub the side of your back in hopes it would make you feel better. 'God, I really think I need to lay down.'

"What number is this?" The caller responded, and it just made your gut twist as the caller didn't answer your question. It was an odd response but perhaps they didn't mean anything by it.