Detective || Scream1996 x M!reader

Blood on your doorstep

You groaned as you woke up, the memory of last night's unsettling phone call still fresh in your mind. With a sigh, you dragged yourself out of bed and into the bathroom, trying to shake off the lingering unease.

You brushed your teeth, washed your face, and gave yourself a good look in the mirror, convincing yourself it was just some weirdo trying to mess with you.

After heading out of the bathroom, you picked through your wardrobe, settling on a black T-shirt and a pair of pants that matched with the jacket you grabbed. You sprayed on a bit of cologne—because why not?—and made your way downstairs, your stomach rumbling.

Today, it was a cereal kind of morning. You poured yourself a bowl, then plopped down in front of the TV. The morning news flickered to life, You started to eat as the reporter's voice filled the room.

"In more local news, authorities are continuing to investigate the recent wave of brutal killings that have shaken our quiet town. Just last night, another incident tied to the so-called 'Ghostface' killer was reported. Investigators have found connections between the latest attack and the gruesome murder of Casey Becker, a high school student who was killed in her home just over a week ago. The killer has been known to make chilling phone calls to their victims before striking, often toying with them before the attack... a chilling reminder for us all to stay cautious. If you receive any suspicious phone calls, authorities urge you to report them immediately."

The reporter's words pulled your attention, your spoon hovering mid-air as you listened more closely. 'A phone call?' That was a little too close to home for comfort.

The idea that the voice on the phone last night could be connected to the killer was unsettling, to say the least. Your mind started to race, piecing things together.

But you didn't have time to play detective right now. As much as the whole 'Ghostface killer' thing was starting to get your attention, you had school to deal with first.

You finished off your cereal, rinsed the bowl in the sink, and grabbed your backpack. After slipping on your sneakers, you headed to the door, making sure it was locked behind you.

As you were about to take a step off the porch, you noticed something on the ground by the door. A small, folded note.

Frowning, you bent down to pick it up, unfolding it carefully. Your eyes scanned the words written inside

"Are you French? Because Eiffel for you❤️."

You rolled your eyes at the cheesy pickup line, but then your gaze caught on something else. The writing... it wasn't ink. It was red. Dark red. Your breath hitched, and your fingers shook slightly as you looked closer.

It looked like it had been written in blood.

Your pulse quickened. Someone had been here. Whoever wrote this had been right at your doorstep. And they clearly weren't just playing around anymore.

You crumpled up the note, shoving it deep into your pocket, trying to suppress the sudden wave of unease. This was starting to get real, but you couldn't afford to think too much about it right now. School was waiting, and the last thing you wanted was to let this freak you out before your day even started.

With a deep breath, you started walking, your mind still buzzing with the implications of that note. But one thing was for sure—you were going to have to keep your guard up.