The sudden grunt and noises of slippery skidding had me tearing around just in time to see Casper lunging towards me, blade poised to strike. My heart pole-vaulted in my chest at the oncoming sight. Letting out a startled yelp, I hopped to the left just as he collided with the island counter, his knife stabbing uselessly on end into the wooden finish. I quickly realized that he had stupidly slipped on the pool of milk in front of the fridge and I couldn't tell you how thankful I was in that moment. If he hadn't slipped..
Not the time for that, Jennifer!
My fearful thoughts and gratitude passed.
Fumbling about and ripping the knife out of the countertop, he whirled his arm in a wide arcing slash. I stumbled away within inches of the blade's reach, completely forgetting my weapon in the process in my blind need to get away and to avoid being stabbed. I skirted around the counter's edges with an agility that I had forgotten I possessed, thankfully having the coordination not to let my feet catch on the multiple stool legs that were tucked away just underneath the countertop. My well timed scrambling put the island between the both of us.
The quick survey of the space told me he must have carefully slipped past the open fridge door to sneak up behind me. That had been one of the initial issues we had had ourselves when we first moved in. The kitchen entrance and the fridge shared an intimate space and in order to move unhindered, one or the other had to be closed; Otherwise you had to uncomfortably weasel your way through. Both couldn't be open at the same time, unless whoever involved wanted to cause a domestic traffic jam/blockade.
A low, breathy laugh escaped him. He was also out of breath, as if the rapid scuffle had thrilled and amused him. "Not as graceful as I was intending." He continued snickering, shaking his masked head to himself. I then seemed to remember that the baseball bat was still in my hands. I held it up like a sword, both of my arms shaking from the anxiety and the weight.
"Who the fuck are you?!" I whisper-shouted, my eyes never leaving the dark shapes of his. He let loose a husky laugh. I wasn't entirely sure what he found so amusing but if I had to guess, it was likely the silliness of me whispering despite being obviously caught. In the dark of the kitchen, the mask's eyes gave away nothing. They were devoid of everything and stared back with a haunting emptiness. He took half a step back as if he were offended, the yellow light from the fridge giving the mask an menacing gleam; "You don't recognize me? I'm hurt! And here I thought we really connected." His own voice seemed to humor me, becoming softer. My face dropped.
Wait. That voice. That means..
I shook my head, blinking in my startled confusion. "You...You were the one on the phone with me!" He snapped his fingers and pointed; "Bingo! Give the girl a prize!" But how...How was that possible? "Ah, don't think so hard about it. You'll hurt yourself," He snickered at my baffled expression and stepped forward to shut the refrigerator door to make more room for himself. "After all, I don't know why you're so scared. This is only a dream.." His head crooked to the side and he paused to put a gloved finger to his weirdly shaped cheek as though to ponder; "Or is it?" Another laugh roused itself from the depths of his throat. My cheeks burned. The statement was so specific and being paired with the sound of his laughter, I couldn't shake the feeling that I was being laughed at. Not a dream then..
And if this wasn't a dream, then that meant-
Oh God. This..This is really happening!
Shut the fuck up, panic. I had to focus on this. The problem was in front of me and I had to deal with it, not lose myself to fear. I shook my head, pushing away my fast-fading embarrassment and questions; "I don't know how yo-you got in here or, or why you're here, but I don't care! Just get out!" Casper pointed the knife at me in return rather accusingly; "How rude! Is that any way to treat a guest, Jenny?"
Jenny. Hearing him speak my sister's nickname for me, ignited a fear and disgust so vivid in me that I visibly shuddered. Goddamnit. The family portrait, and God only knew what else had been in that box, had not only provided him with my physical appearance but with my fucking name as well! I swallowed, Mr. Lucky shaking in my grasp; "On-Only the ones that look like they want to kill me."
He tossed a look down at the large knife in his hand, turning the blade this way and that. Chuckling, he gave a little shrug of mock guilt; "Oh, I'm sorry. Was it that obvious? Can't say I believe in subtlety.."
"And y-you're not a guest! You're an intruder!" I stuttered, my heart so loud in my ears I was sure he could hear it. "An-And I w-want you out! Now!" My whispered voice had risen in the genuineness of the demand. Casper swiftly put his index to the ever wailing shape of the ghostly mouth, quieting me; "Not so loud, Jenny. You wouldn't want them to hear, now would you?" The hand that had directed me to be silent was now directing my eyes past him to look at the kitchen door. He chuckled as I swallowed nervously at the thought. "Didn't think so." He quipped. He sounded way too satisfied. I wanted to knock the smug right out of him.
Shit. What now? Could I reason with him? Could crazy and murderous be reasoned with? I didn't know, but I had to try. I took a deep breath and let Mr. Lucky be held in one hand so the other could extend towards him with an open palm;
"Look..J-Just let me leave. You can have the house. I won't call anybody. I won't t-tell anybody. I swear. I SWEAR it, just, just please.." I presented my pleading proposition. One of which he wasn't willing to accept. "Now why would I do that?" He leaned forward, resting both of his elbows on the island to clasp his hands in earnest. I myself leaned a bit away, my eyes not able to refrain from eyeball-fucking the knife in his hand. He caught onto my look because he himself was visibly looking down at the blade he wielded.
"Oh this old thing?" Casper tilted his knife subtly in his grip, catching the gleam of the light outside. The sight of it made me swallow slowly. "Don't let it fool you. You should know, I'm the most reasonable of all those idiots back there." He gave a guiding jerk of his head to gesture behind him, no doubt meaning the living room full of otherworldly beings. The most reasonable? Did the 'most reasonable of all those idiots' include barreling towards me with a knife? I didn't think so.
"I-I find that hard to believe.."
"Well believe it. The way I see it, you've got two options."
The both of us stared at one another. He wanted a reply. "Which are?" I huffed a little impatiently. Two options seemed like bullshit. I surely had a few more than that. And furthermore, two options? What the Hell was this? Why was he speaking to me and not killing me? Especially after asking me why he should let me go rather than just letting me escape. Maybe this was a game for him. He knew he had me cornered. I knew he had me cornered. It wasn't a secret, so why indulge this? Unless…Unless he didn't want to share his scared little 'find' with the rest of them..
"Option one, I take a great big breath and," He dramatically inhaled, his head going to turn as if to call the others into the room. My heart painfully jumped, taking a half a step forward to hiss; "Op-Option two! What's option two?"
His head swung slowly to look back at me in a roll of his neck. He couldn't help releasing a short, quiet laugh. Bastard. "Option two? Option two is you let me kill you before they do." 'They' was accompanied by the point of his hunting knife back behind him.
My jaw dropped in avid disbelief. Blinking at him, I shook my head in an expression of shock. So not just a bastard. A greedy bastard.
"No? See, I don't think you get it. You let me kill you, and I'll be quick, gentle. Just let me do all the work. It'll be over before you know it," He practically purred it. The blood drained from my face the more the thought of him killing me became plausible. I began to hug the bat to myself, my breath coming undone like an old sneaker. I did NOT want to die. Let alone by the hands of some freaky fuck in a ghost costume.
"But them?" Another motion of his head and Casper continued; "You don't want to know what they would do once they got their hands on a cute little thing like you. Mmhum," He shook his head from side to side. "Oh yeah. They would love you." I fought to breathe normally. Option two didn't sound any more likable than the first. Die or die? Those are my options? Fuck that! I wasn't about to settle for those shit odds. Not when I had a family counting on me.
"How about option three?" I asked, a little bit of defiance creeping into my voice.
"Option three?" Casper was amused.
I took a breath to steady myself, looking at him head-on. The bat left the protective cradle of my arms to once again point at him with both hands. "Option three is you get the fuck out of my house. Right now. " I hoped it had sounded as confident as I wanted it to. Chances are I likely sounded like a child clomping around in the guise of someone grown.
Casper slid back from his casual lean over the island, drawing himself back up to his full height with a scolding shake of his head. "Didn't like my offer? Pretty bold of you to decline. Got to admit, I like a girl that knows what she wants," His head cocked. I tried to square my shoulders to express I wasn't going down without a fight. Inside me my heart had become a fluttering bird with wings that scraped my ribs in fear.
"My, my, that is awful brave of you, demanding me out like that. And I know you must be soo scared.." He leisurely began to walk around the counter, which had me walking the opposite way in unison. "All alone.." He echoed, watching me watching him, the both of us circling steadily. "Seems like Creeper was right all along. I gotta say I admire your bravado, little mouse. Which hole were you hiding in, huh?"
"As if I'd tell you." I spat contemptuously.
He breathed out a quick laugh. "Ohh, feisty. Not sure whether I like that. Too much of it and I might want to cut that tongue out of your pretty little mouth."
My face drained of color at that. His own ghostly face was nodding at the sight; "Yeah, that's what I like to see." That's when he suddenly switched directions in his circling, I jerked the opposite way as we began a whole new counterclockwise course. "Jenny, Jeeennny, Jeennnyyy.." Casper lightly walked the blade along the countertop, stabbing lightly into the wood repeatedly as he went. "I've got your number.." A visceral chill tore down the middle of my back as his odd voice took on a singsong creepiness to it; "I need to maake you mine,"
As if this situation wasn't already the worst, I had to have a serial killer serenading me threateningly? Come the fuck on, life.
"Jenny, don't changee your nuumber.."
He jerked to the left, causing me to move to the right. He then jerked the other way, getting me to do the same. A satisfied laugh accompanied the movement, clearly enjoying himself. I on the other hand, was certainly not fucking enjoying myself. My eyes dared to dart around then, trying to formulate some kind of escape route. Casper clucked his tongue in disapproval, gaining my attention again as he came to a stop. "You should have accepted my offer, Jennifer." And you should go fuck yourself.
We were back at our original places, gazing across from one another: Truly at a stalemate.
For a beat nothing happened. We merely stared at each other in silence, waiting, observing.
Then he did the unexpected.
He dipped straight down, ducking under the kitchen island to entirely vanish from my view. My eyes frantically went from left to right as I backed up against the counters and cabinets behind me. The contact of the counters had me jumping in my skin, my heart thumping up against the roof of my mouth. The quiet was pierced with the thunderous drums of my pulse. My eyes were wide as I moved them to and fro.
Where..
Left to right.
Where the fuck is he!
Right to left.
WHERE!?
Out of my peripheral view, I spied just in time his hunched back creeping along the floor on my right. The both of us sprung into action at exactly the same time, him going for the death blow and I rearing the bat to swing. With no idea how fast he could be, the only choice left was to fight and fight I would. Hit him out of the park, Mr. Lucky!
The bat connected with his shoulder, causing him to briefly crumple over the cabinets beside me in pain. Home run, bitch! I approached behind him with Mr. Lucky above my head. Before I could go for another solid swing, he turned and his free hand caught the bat this time to yank it out of my grasp. Mr. Lucky crashed to the floor, the empty wooden thuds inspiring a panic in me so incredible that I shrieked my fear. Casper chose that moment of weakness to tackle me, pushing me back against the sink harshly. The knife went in for the deadly plunge. My instincts kicked in at the opportune moment. I grabbed his knife-bearing hand at the wrist with both of mine, the effort to stall its journey to my neck and face making it tremble in its frozen position. Like an arm wrestle to the death, he and I struggled to move the knife in the directions we willed it. We twisted from side to side in our struggle.
"Let go!" He growled. His other hand took a fistful of my hair, bringing the sharp stinging of tears to my eyes as I gasped. Before I could think better of it, my left hand chased his in my hair, trying to pry his fingers away. With one hand less on the blade's progress, it gained an uncomfortable distance closer to my face. I let out a cry of terror, my hand abandoning my hair's rescue and instead grabbing blindly for anything behind me. My fingers found the long shape of the sink's sprayer and before I could question if that would help my cause or not, I yanked the handle over to turn on the water. As soon as the faucet ran, my hand latched onto the sprayer and pulled it from its hole to stretch the long coil around to the front of me, squeezing the trigger.
An unrelenting spray of water shot him square in the face and he sputtered, his mask and his front rapidly becoming wet with my liquid ammo. He shook his head, trying to fight the water's attack as it no doubt went through the mesh eye sockets of his mask and mouth. The hand in my hair forgot its grip, instead going to fight for the control of the sprayer.
"How dare you! You little bitch!" He snarled, completely taken by surprise and outrage. The anger I had invoked in him in the heat of the moment had his voice becoming higher-pitched and crude.
The sound of the kitchen door opening was trivial amongst the noises of our scuffle, but the voice that followed it was definitely heard: "What the fuck are you doi-"
Casper and I almost broke our necks to look at the person speaking, our eyes first being met with nothing, and then lowering in the doorway.
The doll stood there, mouth gaping at the sight of us. Whatever he was going to say was completely lost as he first looked at me, then at Casper, and back at me.
Fuck me sideways! This just keeps getting worse!
Now was the time for the ultimate move, maybe my only saving grace.
With all the strength I had in my adrenaline drunken state, I kneed Casper in the balls.
The breath was completely knocked out of him, immediately folding in on himself and dropping to his knees on the floor. I didn't get to savor the immense sound of pain he was in, as I now knew what I had to do. There was no time to dial 911, nor was there time to grab my weapon. While he still gripped the knife, I let go of the sprayer, ignoring it thwacking against the counter and bolted in the direction of the kitchen door. Leaving the sounds of groaning and running water behind me, I wasted no time sinking into my track star mindset.
I just needed to get to the finish line and that finish line was the front door. Once I was out, I could run: Run to safety, run until it didn't matter anymore, run until I was just a mess of sweat and exhaustion; All the way to Frankie's house. There I could get my brother and sister, could keep them safe, keep them from coming home to a house of horrors. There I'd be able to phone the police and all of it would just be a nightmare. If only I could get to the door!
Still too shocked to move, the doll stared at me as if he were blind. I ran straight at him and leaped as though he were a hurdle. I easily sailed over his head, sailed over the milk puddle, and continued bounding to the front door not far away.
I smashed into it, no doubt bruising and hurting myself in the process but I cast the notions of pain and injury aside. My hands grasped desperately, slick with sweat, yanking and ripping the knob to turn this way and that. Though no matter how ruthlessly I turned the knob, it would not budge. My hands even took turns locking and unlocking the locks, as if by some weird fluke that was the issue. The door wasn't locked! WHY WON'T IT FUCKING OPEN?! WHY?! With every failed rotation of the doorknob, my breath came out in louder, harder bursts until I was kicking and thrashing against the wood. Uselessly I banged on it with my fists, finally coming to the realization that the door was not going to open.
A sob tightened my throat; "No, no, no, no.."
Not this! Please God or whoever the FUCK is listening, anything but this!
A chain of malicious laughter greeted my back and I whirled around to meet it.
Oh. Oh SHIT.
It looked as though Option One was still on the table.