* This is a work of fan fiction, I don't own any rights to any characters or locals in this story. I also do not recieve any type of compensation for this story. It is just for entertainment.
Chapter One
Sidney Prescott could just hear the phone ring from the shower. She jumped out, water dripping off her as she wrapped a towel around her and ran to the phone; answering on the last ring.
"Hello?" she said.
"Hey Sid, it's Gale" came the reply, and Sidney slumped into the plush velvet love seat nestled by the phone, expecting a LONG drawn out explination for another cancelled get together from her reporter friend.
"So, when do you wanna reschedule Gale?" she sighed, "I don't Sid. Was actually wanting to see if I can bring along a few of the girls from session, got one or two who would LOVE to meet the great Sidney Prescott."
"Ha, yeah I'm great alright," said Sidney as she grabbed a hand towel from the bin near the love seat and began to dry her hair. "But yeah, that's fine. Anyone I'd know?" she asked, hoping she might FINALLY get to meet some of the survivors that Gale had been conversing with at her AA meetings in the past few months.
"Don't know. I know you don't really follow the news much and most of these ladies have been out of the lime light for years. Doing a you..." said Gale, referring to Sidney's pention for doing more hiding in her own little enclosed world rather than going out, where it seemed someone was always trying to off her for some reason or another.
"But it's only two other girls and Dewey." finished Gale. "Yeah that sounds good, I'll meet you guys at Charlies in about an hour if that's ok." said Sidney as she stood and prepared to hang up the phone.
"Sounds great Sid, I'll see ya then." And with that the call ended.
Sidney was actually pleasantly surprised that Gale hadn't tried to cancel once again, even though she understood; to a point, why she did it so often. Couldn't be easy with 2 year old twins, a disabled husband and a paper to run. And Sidney was so proud of her cocky friend for having beaten the alcoholism that came on after her near death experience 5 years ago at the hands of Sidney's own niece, Jill. Life was looking up for the Riley's.
Sidney walked to her room, letting the damp towel lay where it fell, and she stopped to look in the mirror as she headed to her closet. Cuts, and two holes that had all been sewn up and healed; yet each one still made her sad each and everytime she looked at them. She touched the longest of them that stretched about two inches from right above her navel to just under her breast bone. A wound that she almost died from, given to her by her own flesh and blood. But, life had been quiet since then; and that's how Sidney liked it.
The ringing of her iPhone on her bed, pulled her from her thoughts; and she grabbed it thinking, 'I swear Gale would loose her head if it wasn't attached to her.' But there was no number on the screen, just the words UNKNOWN CALLER ID. Sidney stood there wondering if she should answer. It had been several months since she'd had an anonymous call; it having being yet another dumb ass kid trying to creep her out with the STAB voice. And each time she caught them off guard, and they all usually hung up after a few choice curses at being caught.
She pressed accept.
"Hello?" she said rather irritably.
"Hello Sidney," came a familar voice. "I'm not bothering you am I?"
"Who is this and what do you want?" she said, pressing on a trace app she had downloaded several months ago; that she felt came in handy as nine out of ten times she could get a name to go along with the idiot trying to scare her.
"I don't really want much, Sidney. I really just wanted to check in with you. See how your doing. It's been a while since we've talked. I was hoping you could relay a message to Gale and her friends next time you see them." said the voice with a sardonic tone slowly sinking in.
She stared at the screen waiting for the app to do it's work, and having it come back with the words UNABLE TO IDENTIFY CALLER ID. Well damn, she thought and put the phone back to her ear. "What do you want?" she said more forcefully.
"Nothing much, I just want to play a game. You like to play games don't you Sid? You've played several over the years and you must have been playing with a great pair of dice, because here you are still standing, a nice little collection of scares to show for it I see." the caller said with a little giggle.
'Shit, he can see me' Sidney thought, grabbing a robe and sliding into it quickly. "You realize that prank phone calls of this nature are illegal. And I've heard more than enough to know the difference between a real psycho and a little dip shit chilling on his moms couch with his pot smoking buddy passed out beside him." she hissed.
"Oh, well then I'm disappointed Sid. Because, I'm a real psycho." he said matter of factly.
Then she was startled as her front door alarm began to blare and she could hear the front door slam against the entrance hall wall and then bounce back into it's frame. She ran to the top of the stairs looking down into the main hall, seeing no one. Then back into her room to her side table grabbing the beretta that Dewey had bought for her almost a decade before as a Christmas gift. She took the safety off, and then slowly walked out of her room and down the stairs, her back to the wall.
"You gotta be faster than that Sid. You're getting slow in your old age." he whispered into the phone, with a slight cackle. She hung up the cell keeping it in her hand, she'd learned years ago that having it with her could mean life or death. She moved to the end of the front hall, always keeping her back to the wall, looking cautiously around corners as she'd been taught by Dewey. But she saw no one. She went to the front door which stood just slightly ajar, closing it and locking the bottom lock, but not chaining it or resetting the alarm after silencing it. If someone was in the house, she wanted as little hinderence to getting out as possible.
She turned toward the center of her home putting her back to the door then she heard a pop, and felt a sharp pain in her upper shoulder. She knew instantly she'd been shot, and she turned from the door as quickly as she could dropping her phone from her useless left arm. She kept the beretta at her side and dropped down crouching along the wall, and slide into the kitchen to her right.
Years earlier set up a panic room in the back of her pantry closet for just such an occasion, but had never needed it, since it always seemed that the psycho's would rather draw her out of her home to them rather than take her on in her own home. She crawled toward the island in the center of the kitchen taking shelter from the two windows the stood above the sink and faced the back yard. She wasn't really sure where the stalker was, so she made sure to stay out of sight.
The pantry door stood to her left, but she would be in direct line of sight from the windows if she headed there at the moment, so she sat there her back against the island; and started to take count of the situation. Whoever this was obviously knew a bit about her horrific past, but was also not unwilling to use a gun to solve the problem. She HATED guns oddly enough; even though she was a master shot with her beretta. She had the gun ONLY for this type of situation. But the last person to try to shoot her was her step brother Roman over a 15 years ago. The truly crazy ones used guns.
She reached above her grabbing the large dish towel laying on the island counter top and pushed it against her shoulder trying to slow the bleeding. It hurt like hell, but the pain kept her focused, and she realized that the basement was to her right out of the line of sight, and the door was metal and locked from the inside.
She quickly slide across the floor to the basement door, using the beretta to knock the key off the hook and slowly unlocked the door, creaked it open and slipped inside. She slowly closed the door and locked it, before turning to face the staircase that lead to her basement.
Over the years, she'd converted the basement into a gym and personal sauna. She had bricked up the two small windows that were there when she moved in and had pretty much secured the room as a make shift panic room. It wasn't until just a few years before that this would be her go to for a situation such as this, but since her small panic room wasn't an easy reach; she took what she had.
She slide down the stairs and stood for the first time in a good ten minutes, her back creaking as she did so. She was getting too old for this shit; she thought to herself. She slowly walked to the wall on the right where she had a switch board for all her equipment, the lights and a phone. She reached to pick the phone up, when it rang only seconds before she did.
"Well, there you are Sid, I thought you'd actually gotten out of dodge there for a minute." came the voice on the other end of the phone. "I'd be so upset if our little tango ended so soon."
"What do you WANT?" She screamed into the phone, having had enough of the callers condesending tone. "What do I always want Sidney, I want you and your girlfriends to die."
"Girlfriends? What the hell are you talking about?" She said.
"Oh, just those pesky survivor chicks your fiesty friend Gale Weathers Riley keeps talking to you about." Came the reply.
"I don't know any of them, so your shit out of luck on that one." She sharply spat.
"Oh, I know. But they'll get the message and the real game will begin. You're just the opening act before the main credits Sid." the stalker said.
Sidney slammed the phone down, turned back to the stairs and realized she was now stuck with no way out of here. If she had the use of both hands she would try to break the bricks that she had used to seal off the two windows and try to shimmy out of one, but her left arm was pretty much useless. 'What the hell am I gonna do?' She thought to herself.
The smell of smoke got her moving again and realized that the stalker had set the kitchen on fire, she could smell the smoke and see a reddish orange color from under the basement door. 'Damn' she said out loud, and realized that she had only two options. Stay in the basement and suffocate or head back into the house and try to escape before the whole house went up in flames.
She walked back up the stairs, leaning against the metal door feeling that it was not hot just yet. That was a good sign, meaning the flames where most likely in the dinner room beside the kitchen and hadn't set the kitchen on fire just yet. She slowly unlocked the door and slide out with her back once again to the wall.
The kitchen was filling with smoke rather quickly so she crouched down and headed back into the main hall hoping that she could get out the front door. She looked over toward the front hall and saw that all three locks were now engaged, and she noticed that the hall closet door was ajar. Clever she thought to herself, try to set me up. She moved the opposite direction toward the living room and the sliding bullet proof glass doors that lead to her back yard.
She crawled slowly around the couch and decided to stand now that she was out of the down stairs windows line of sight. She took a step toward the sliding glass doors and screamed as a machete slammed through the floorboards and straight through the front of her foot. She fell backwards dropping the beretta and sliding back against the couch.
She looked toward where the machete had come from and saw a strange mist begin to slide through the narrow crack made by the weapon. It formed a strange shape, that of a tall man with no features but which had a hand with four sharp knife like potrusions coming out of the finger tips. 'What the hell?' she thought in complete shock. 'Am I hallucinating? Was I hurt worse then I thought by that gun wound?'
The shape walked slowly toward her, a strange shaped apparition that she could see through. The shape lifted it's knifed hand and swung. Sidney lifted her hand screaming 'NO!' and looked on in shock as the back half of her right hand slide off the rest of her hand leaving only her index finger and thumb. The wound was instantly cauterized with a searing heat, and Sidney almost blacked out.
"Don't pass out now Sid," came a voice from nowhere and from everywhere; as the apparitions knifed hand stabbed her through her right shoulder and some how pinning her to the couch.
"What...what are you?" she moaned as she began to realize that this was the end of her long struggle.
"I'm your worst reality, and worst nightmare", came the reply. And with that final statement Sidney watched as the shadow like claw slammed into her face, through her eye sockets and pushed brain matter out three holes in the back of the now deceased Sidney Prescott's head.
End Chapter One