A teenage red-haired girl- You- laugh at something your blonde-haired friend, Casey Becker, is telling you. She has a whole theory about how your best friend, Stu Macher, has a thing for you, even though he's dating your twin sister, Tatum Riley.
"God, how can someone so smart be so oblivious? Have you seen how he looks at you when Tatum's not looking?" Casey points out, causing you to laugh even harder.
"I don't know how you came up with that, but Stu wouldn't do that to her. He cares for her," you shrug, not being able to take her seriously.
"You said that about him and I when we were dating, but look how that ended up," Casey argues, and you can feel the frustration towards your vehement denial.
"Mmhm. . . and you're looking at the same person who also warned you that it wouldn't last very long, aren't you? And what did you do? You ignored my warning," you remind her in a sing-song voice, which she shakes her head at.
"I hate that you're right about this. I should be the one who's right," Casey grumbles in mock annoyance.
"But you also love that about me," you tap her nose as you get up to walk towards the kitchen.
"Yeah, I do, unfortunately," she replies and you sock her in the arm with a grin while she gets up to follow you. The phone rings and Casey picks it up reluctantly.
"Hello?" She asks and you listen while grabbing a pan of popcorn to make for the movie night you two had planned since Steve had cancelled on Casey last minute.
"Yes?" There's a pause before Casey speaks again, "Who're you trying to reach?"
You give her a look as if to ask who it is, but she shakes her head at you, rolling her eyes.
"I think you've got the wrong number," Casey answers whoever is on the other line. "It happens, take it easy."
Casey hangs up after that and shakes her head again, "Someone must've given that guy the wrong number because I don't know him and he couldn't even tell me who he was trying to reach."
"Hmm... that's strange, isn't it?" You ask her and she nods, seemingly a bit ticked off towards the person who had called.
"Yeah. Why would you dial a number only to be like,'Oh I don't know who I'm trying to reach?' Gives me the creeps honestly," Casey shivers at the unspoken thought the two of you shared.
"You're sure it wasn't Randy or someone trying to prank us?" You query, already knowing the answer.
'Randy wouldn't do that to us. He's not a fucking asshole,' you think while turning the stove on a different setting to make the popcorn faster.
"No, he can't pull off pranks, remember?" she reminds you, though you do not need to remember the last time Randy tried to pull a prank.
"Yeah, I remember," you shudder at the memory she brings up; a lot of fake blood and tampons covered in fake blood... that was the kind of prank Randy pulled in freshman year, but not without help from Stu and Anastasia.
After that, it became an unspoken rule in your friend group that those three were banned from doing any sort of pranks together or at all.
The phone rings again, so you grab the portable to deal with whoever it is this time.
"Hello?" You answer the phone and wait for an answer.
"I'm sorry, I guess I dialled the wrong number," the voice, who seems to be the same caller as before when Casey nods at you, apologises, though you feel like something's. . . off with them.
"Then why'd you dial it again?" Your interest hasn't quite been piqued, but your annoyance sure has.
"To apologise."
"You're forgiven. Bye," you respond, keeping it short.
"Wait, wait- don't hang up," you pause, your finger hovering over the button, ready to hang up.
"Why not?"
"I want to talk to you for a second," you walk over to the back sliding glass door and lock it while looking outside at the pitch-black autumn night.
"They've got 900 numbers for that. Later," you tell the caller, then end the call with a click! You turn and grin at your friend, who returns the gesture.
"Go double-check that the front door is locked, I'll handle the popcorn," you tell her
"You got it, boss," Casey answers in a fake New Jersey accent, does a little salute, then marches away while laughing.
You go back into the kitchen and shake the popcorn around when the phone rings again.
"Hello," you pick up the portable again, understanding why Casey had been so annoyed after the first call.
"Why don't you want to talk to me?"
"Who is this?"
"You tell me your name, I'll tell you mine,"
"I don't think so, I was taught by my older brother not to go around giving my name out to strangers. You never know the weirdo you're talking to, you know what I mean?" You explain while shaking the popcorn once you hear it crackle in the pan.
"What's that noise?"
"You've never heard popcorn popping before?"
"You're making popcorn?"
"Yeah,"
"I only eat popcorn at the movies,"
"My friend and I are going to watch a movie,"
"Really? What one?"
"A scary movie," you reply sarcastically, because horror movies don't scare you as much as they do Casey. It's funny to watch her squirm and flinch at the smallest things.
"Do you like scary movies?"
"If I didn't, I wouldn't have picked one out to watch,"
"What's your favourite scary movie?"
"Hmm. . . trick question, try again later,"
"You have to have a favourite,"
"Ugh. . . I don't know, there's too many to choose from. My twin likes Wes Carpenter flicks though. My favourite movie's got to be Child's Play. You know, the one where the serial killer's soul possesses the doll. What's yours since you asked me what mine is?"
"Guess,"
"You seem like either a Nightmare on Elm Street or a Psycho kind of guy,"
"Is that the one where the guy has knives for fingers?"
"You could be talking about Freddy Krueger, but there's also Edward Scissorhands- I don't think that movie's really in the horror genre, dude,"
"Huh, alright. I liked Nightmare on Elm Street, but how'd you come up with Psycho?"
"Don't know, you seem like the kind of person that appreciates the older horror movies,"
"Thanks," the voice sounds flattered, but also like they're mocking you. "So, you gotta boyfriend?"
"Yeah, why are you asking?"
"Because girls like you almost always have boyfriends. Who's the lucky guy?" You purse your lips, because you know this question all too well.
"His name's Randy," You lie, though you had told Randy that if anyone tried to flirt with you, you'd say that he's your boyfriend and he was more than okay with it. If anyone else asked him if they could, he'd easily say no. Perks of being his friend, you guessed.
"Randy Geeks?"
"Don't call him that! It's rude and he's been my best friend for as long as I can remember. . . so we started dating. How do you even know his name?"
"Who doesn't know that dumbass?"
"That doesn't answer shit, tell me why or how you actually know Randy's," you narrow your eyes while Casey comes over to you, looking confused.
"I'll tell you after you tell me your name,"
"Why do you need to know my name?"
"Because I want to know who I'm looking at," you and Casey both look out of the glass door.
"What the fuck? No one's here. If this is your idea of a joke- where you call girls and harass them, it's not fucking funny. You're sick in the head, man," you shake your head while scolding the person, fist clenching in your shirt.
You and Casey both go over to the back door. She clicks on the outside light. A flood light illuminates the backyard. The two of you survey the grounds, but it's empty. No one's there- this time, you turn the light out.
"I have to go," you assert and look at Casey, who nods in agreement with your words.
"Why? Don't you want to talk to me?"
"Nope! I. . .uhm, I'm good,"
"Don't hang up on me,"
"Gotta go," and with that, you hang up the phone, not catching the person's last word as you do.
Casey double-checks the lock on the glass door before you both walk back into the kitchen to check the popcorn.
The phone rings and you answer it, seeing as you're still holding it.
"Yes"
"I told you not to hang up on me,"
"What do you want?"
"To talk," you shake your head before answering, "Dial someone else, okay? You seem to be good at dialling random numbers."
"You getting scared?" You raise an eyebrow at the question. If it is Randy, he would know what scares you. Stupid prank calls definitely aren't on the list.
"Nope- bored," click! you hang up, setting the phone down when it rings again.
"Listen, I'm going to call the cops if you don't stop this bullshit," Casey answers the phone this time.
"No, you listen to me, if you hang up on me again, I'll gut you like a fish," You overhear this and your eyes widen. You give her a serious look and she points over at the other phone, which you grab and dial the number your brother gave you to call in case of emergencies.
You pass her the phone to have her talk to Dewey and she hands you the phone.
"This has to be some kind of sick joke. . ." You trail off, twisting around to look at your friend, who was whispering into the other phone.
"More of a game, really," You walk over to the front door and bolt it shut.
"I'm calling the police," you dismiss the voice and continue to look over at Casey, who's still talking to your brother.
"Not like they'd make it here in time," You look out of the peep hole, only to see the front porch is empty. It helps you relax a bit, though your heart is still thudding around rapidly in your chest.
"What do you want?"
"To see if your heart is as pretty as you are," you stare off into space, unsure of what to do. You hang up the phone and chuck it onto the couch.
The doorbell chimes and Casey jumps at the sound, coming over to you, the phone still in hand.
"Did you talk to Dewey?"
"Yeah, he said he'd get here as fast as he can and to stay on the line with him until he gets here," Casey tells you as the doorbell chimes again, interrupting their conversation.
"WHO IS IT?" Casey yells, only to get no response. You both start to back away from the front door.
You go around the couch to pick up the phone to call the police so that your brother can have back up, but it starts to ring again.
"You've watched the movies, haven't you learned not to say any form of 'who's there'?" the voice mocks Casey and she hisses in annoyance.
"Shut the fuck up. You need to know when to stop with this stupid prank. You've had your fun, now bother someone else,"
"Or else what?"
"My boyfriend's going to show up."
"What will Randy do; bore me to death? How terrifying."
"Well, Randy's not dumb enough to come alone- he'll bring our friends with him. Stacey'll beat the shit out of you, regardless of who you are just because you insulted one of her best friends," You shrug, knowing that Anastasia would if you asked.
"Oh, I'm so scared, you're going to sick a girl on me," you grumble under your breath at that, then respond, "You'd better leave- Casey will call her boyfriend too!"
"His name wouldn't be Steve, would it?"
"How the fuck do you know?"
"Go to the back door and turn on the porch light- again." You and Casey look at each other and decide to do as the voice says.
"What the fuck-" You start, but Casey shushes you. You're both staring at her boyfriend, who's tied up in a lawn chair in the middle of the backyard.
Casey's hand moves to unlock the door, but you grab her elbow and stop her.
"I wouldn't do that if I were you- bad idea on your part," the voice says as you shift in your spot next to her.
"Where are you?" You decide it's your turn to speak.
"Take a guess," you look around the yard.
"Are you able to see us?"
". . ." You don't get an answer, so you decide to ask a question, "Then you're somewhere hidden in the backyard?"
"Please don't hurt him! Why are you doing this?" Casey pleads with the voice and you try to get her to stop, it doesn't stop.
"It all depends on you two and I want to play a game," you shake your head- not because you don't think the voice can't see you, but because you know they can see you.
"No, we're not doing this shit-" "Then he dies. Right now," the voice cuts you off and Casey smacks your arm, distressed that you'd allow this.
"Alright, what kind of game are we playing then?"
"Turn the lights off," you both watch Steve as he struggles to get out. You flip the switch and the light goes off, and he disappears into the darkness.
"Here's how we play, I ask a question- if you get it right, he lives,"
"Don't do this, please. . ." Casey tries to plead with the voice again, but it's useless.
"Come on, it'll be fun," you pull her away from the glass door, ready to pick her up if needed.
"No. . . please," your eyes dart around the room, trying to find a place that'll hide both of you. You take Casey with you as the two of you crouch behind the couch. She yanks the cord for the lamp on the side table out of its socket, darkening the room.
"It's an easy category: movie trivia," your eyes widen as you shush her, waving at her to follow you. You point behind the television and she crawls her way over behind it, unplugging the cords for it to be safe.
"Okay," you breathe and try to calm your heart thudding around in your chest. You can almost hear your brother's voice and you can't wait for him to be here and help you guys.
"What's the name of the killer in Halloween?" Everything's silent as minutes pass by. You look at Casey and she looks at you, blubbering quietly while trying to come up with an answer.
"Michael Meyers," she whispers, and you half-nod at her answer.
"Yes, correct. Now, for the next question."
"NO!" Casey shrieks and you wince, covering your ears. "Go away! Leave us alone!"
"Name the killer in Friday The 13th," you shake your head. If they're trying to give you two hard questions, it's not working.
"JASON! IT'S JASON!" Your stomach drops at her answer and you feel like vomiting.
"I'm sorry, that's the wrong answer," you gape at her, your faith in not dying has hit an all-time low.
"No, it's not- it was Jason," Casey sounds so sure of herself that it actually scares you.
"Case-" "Afraid not," you're cut off once again and the feeling in your stomach worsens.
"It was Jason- i saw that goddamned movie twenty times. It was Jason,"
"Then you should know Jason's mother- Mrs. Vorhees- was the original killer. Jason didn't show up until the sequel," you both run over to the glass door, Casey nearly tripping over the power cords she'd ripped out of the wall before.
"You tricked me," Casey breathes and tears begin to form as she nearly collapses to her knees, but you grab her to hold her up.
"Lucky for you, there's a bonus round. . . as for poor Steve, I'm afraid he's out," and against her better judgement, Casey flips on the light only to be horrified further: Steve's eyes are wide, his stomach slashed open- a mass of blood and ripped flesh- his insides lying on the ground between his feet, steam rising from his corpse.
You both let out ear-splitting screams as you lose your grip on her and she collapses onto the floor. Casey sobs as you eye the front door and the door you two are at.
"What door am I at?"
"What. . ."
"There are two doors to the house. A front door and a back one. If you answer correctly, you live," You continue to look between the doors, trying to think about it properly.
"Don't make us guess- it's impossible to know where you're at,"
"It's not hard," the voice is uncaring and you realise what's going to happen- the feeling in your stomach was right.
"GET AWAY FROM THE DOOR!" You shriek, pulling her back and dragging her into the kitchen behind the counter. Casey grabs a knife from the knife block.
A lawn chair smashes through the glass door and you both jump, trying to keep from making any noise.
"Come on, this way- we can climb out of the window," Casey whispers while you cover the speaker part of the phone and you both run down the hallway and end up in front of a window.
Casey snaps it open as quietly as she can manage. You help her through the window and she dangles her feet out of the window, dropping the knife. She goes to reach for it, but decides against it and moves out of the way to allow you to get through.
"I can hear you breathing. I know you're here," you put a hand to her mouth just as she's about to speak. You and Casey move to the next window and look at the figure, who pulls the hallway closet open, looking for the two of you.
You and Casey move to the other window, where the figure's staring back at you two- a ghost mask.
You scream as a hand smashes through the window and grabs a hold of Casey's neck.
You grab her and yank her free as hard as you can. You heave her over your shoulder and run around the corner of the house. Your eyes gaze around the yard when you spot a familiar car: Casey's parents.
You bolt across the yard, nearly dropping your friend. You stumble, catching your balance, only to be sent flying to the ground face first.
Casey, fortunately, landed a little ways away from you, but she's taken to the ground by another figure with the same mask.
The figure lifts the knife into the air with their right hand, and you wriggle around, trying to free yourself. The knife grazes your neck and you scream the loudest you can manage, flailing around frantically.
You hear the grotesque sound of a knife hitting flesh and Casey's muffled screaming dying in her throat.
You manage to get your knees out from under the figure and knee them in the groin, but it backfires as your legs get slit open.
You army crawl your way over to Casey and try to pull her with you, though it doesn't work as the two figures grab Casey and drag her away by her feet.
You can hear your brother's voice getting closer, his footsteps crunching the leaves and grass, along with who you assume are Casey's parents following him.
"Oh my god-" is all you hear before your vision fades, your body being lifted up into several arms.