On the outskirts of Hawkins, crickets chirp between the blades of grass, filling the still night air. The modern home sat isolated from the rest of the town. Vickie walked down the wooden stairs in relaxed jeans with a grey sweater. She's been looking forward to watching movies with her boyfriend, Dan, all day. After school, she stopped by the video store to rent a few movies for their marathon and had to prepare Dan to come over.
The phone rang throughout the house, catching her attention. Vickie picked up the landline, "Hello?"
"Hello."
The redhead's eyebrows furrowed at the unfamiliar deep voice, "Who is this?"
"Who am I talking to?" The gravelly voice asked in response, avoiding her question.
Vickie's eyes rolled, "Who are you trying to reach?"
"I'm looking for a friend," the man replied after a beat of silence.
"I think you have the wrong number. Take care," She said sympathetically before hanging up, ignoring the protest coming from the other end.
The high schooler sighed, hoping to put the strange phone call behind her. She started to head towards the kitchen when the phone rang again. She debated about letting it ring, but it could be Dan. For a second time, she answered the phone, "Hello?"
"Why did you hang up on me?" the same deep voice replied without greeting.
Vickie scoffed, "Well, because I don't know you. Why would you call again?"
"I just wanted to apologize," he said simply.
"You're forgiven; bye now," Vickie went to hang up the phone before her actions were interrupted.
"Wait, wait. Don't hang up. I want to talk to you for a second," the man said quickly.
She shook her head, "You can find someone else for that. Take it easy."
Vickie firmly hung up the phone before walking to her kitchen. She walked around the large kitchen island in the middle of the room towards the pantry. The girl grabbed a popcorn pan to make snacks for the night. She set it down on the stove, lighting the fire underneath and ripping the packaging seal off the top. A few kernels started popping under the foil when the phone rang again. Vickie grabbed the portable landline off the counter, "Hello?"
"Why don't you want to talk to me?" The man's voice came through the phone again; a playful curiosity danced in his tone.
Her eyebrows furrowed in confusion, "Who is this?"
"If you tell me your name, maybe I'll tell you mine," he said flirtatiously.
The teenager returned to the stove, shaking the pan, making the kernels rattle, "Yeah, right."
"What's that noise?" The stranger asked.
"I'm making popcorn," she answered.
A small part of her knew she should just hang up; talking to random men was never a good idea, but she's always been someone who overshared. It's a quality her boyfriend found endearing for a reason she didn't understand. The girl leaned against the kitchen counter, using the mystery caller for entertainment while she waited for Dan to show up.
The man hummed, "Really? I only have popcorn when I'm watching movies."
"I'm getting ready to have a marathon," she explained.
"Really? Of what?"
Vickie walked around the counter towards the living room, leaving the popcorn to cook on the stove. "Just some scary movies I rented."
"Scary movies? What's your favorite scary movie?"
The girl sorted through the VHS tapes she had rented earlier that day, holding the phone to her ear with her shoulder. "Uhm, I don't know. Probably Alien. The one with the badass woman who fights off all the aliens in space."
"Where no one can hear you scream," he said darkly, quoting the movie poster.
She shifted uncomfortably, "Uh, yeah. I think I should go."
"You never told me your name."
"Why do you need to know my name?" Vickie said cautiously, putting the tapes back down on top of the TV.
"'Cause I want to know who I'm looking at."
Her whole body froze instantly, nervously turning toward the window. "What?"
"I want to know who I'm talking to," the man corrected.
"That's not what you said," The redhead swiftly moved back towards the kitchen. "I have to go."
"Don't hang up on me!" The man said quickly, but getting cut off when she disconnected the call.
Vickie took a deep breath, attempting to calm herself down. There wasn't a chance someone was watching her, but she hoped Dan would get here soon. She wiped the forming tear from her eye and reached for the popcorn still sitting on the stove, when the phone rang again. She grumbled, pushing her short red hair behind her ear as she answered, "Listen, asshole!" She yelled into the phone from frustration.
"No, you listen, you bitch. You hang up on me again, and I'll cut your neck from ear to ear," the deep voice threatened.
Her heart lept into her throat as panic surged through her. Part of her wanted to believe this wasn't real. Names of people who would make a terrible joke like this went through her mind, but she couldn't think of who this was. The girl slowly backed up to where her back was against the fridge, looking for security or a foundation to ground her in reality. "Is this some kind of sick prank?"
The stranger chuckled darkly, "I think of it more as a game."
Vickie carefully walked toward the front door to check the lock, looking through the window and seeing nothing. There was no sign of anything out of the ordinary. It should have been comforting that no man was standing in her yard, but this had her more on edge. Whoever it was, they could be hiding out of sight. "I'm not afraid to call the police," she threatened, backing away from the door.
"Go ahead; they won't make it in time. You live in the middle of nowhere," he said, a smirk in his tone.
Her hands started to shake as she realized he was right. If this man were watching her, the police would be too late. She felt stuck and vulnerable, like a fish in a fishbowl. "What do you want from me?" She asked quietly, trying to hide the fear in her voice.
"To rip your insides out," the voice growled into the receiver.
Vickie quickly hung up the phone, throwing it down on the entry table as tears streamed down her face. She tried to think of what she could do if anything, but her mind was overwhelmed with terror. The house filled with the smell of burnt popcorn, and she backed away nervously to take the popcorn off of the burning stove just as the doorbell rang. Her whole body jumped, and her voice trembled as she shouted toward the door, "Who's there?"
The doorbell rang again, twice in succession. With no other option, Vickie had to pray help would come in time. "I'm calling the police!"
When she grabbed the phone from the table, it rang in her hand. The girl sobbed, answering the call, but his voice was back before she could say anything.
"Saying 'who's there' is such a cliche," he grumbled disappointedly.
"Alight, you had your fun; now leave me alone," she begged through her tears.
The man chuckled darkly into the phone, "What will you do? A band geek like you couldn't fight me off on a good day."
"Well, my boyfriend will be here any minute! He's on the football team, so your ass better be gone," she said in desperation.
"I wouldn't be so confident. Check the backyard."
Vickie swallowed thickly, imagining the worst. Was this why he was so late? If Dan was there, how did she not hear anything? The backdoor was a large sliding glass door; she would have noticed something. Slowly, the redhead made her way to the back door and turned on the lights on the patio. Vickie's hand flew over her mouth when she saw her boyfriend there, tied to a chair with tape over his mouth. The right side of his head was bleeding badly. Quickly, she went to open the door to help him, only opening it a sliver until the man spoke again.
"I wouldn't do that if I were you," he warned.
"Let him go," she begged, touching the glass and watching him struggle against the restraints.
"Play my game, and you'll get your prize," he taunted.
She struggled to wrap her head around the fact this was a fucked up game in the eyes of this stranger. Vickie watched Dan pleading behind the tape for freedom, looking to her for help. His muffled suffering was enough for her to take the bait. "What kind of game?"
"It's simple. Movie Trivia. All you have to do is answer three questions. If you get them right, Dan lives. I'll even give you a warm-up question."
The girl sank to the floor, hearing her boyfriend's cries from the tiny crack in the door, "Fine," she agreed with a shaking voice.
"I'll start easy. What's the name of the 'badass woman who fights off all the aliens in space'?" He asked, quoting her from before.
She sobbed into the phone, "Ripley…Ellen Ripley."
"Good Job. Now for the real questions."
"Just let him go," she pleaded desperately.
"Who is the killer in Silence of the Lambs?" He continued, ignoring her cries.
Vickie whimpered, desperate for this to be over. Her breathing became rapid as she tried to remember the movie. She watched it with Dan last weekend; she should know this. "Hannibal Lecter!" The answer came to her instantly, remembering Dan's comments about his name rhyming with Cannibal. 'You name a kid that; what else is he supposed to be?' he had joked.
"That's the wrong answer."
"No, it's not! We just watched it, I remember," she said frantically.
"Buffalo Bill was the killer of the film. Hannibal was nothing but a killer in prison. I don't give partial credit. Looks like he's out," the man said as the patio lights went out, making the backyard dark again.
Nothing could be seen; she sat helplessly by the door, hearing him scream in agony over a horrible squelching sound. Vickie cried into the phone, wrapping an arm around her middle for comfort, hoping to wake up from this nightmare. When the light was turned back on, she felt utterly sick. The girl screamed at the sight of her boyfriend's intestines sprawled out on his lap. His body sat completely lifeless, only a few feet away.
"Now we're starting to have fun—next question," the voice continued.
"Please leave me alone," she begged between her sobs.
"Where am I?" The man asked her.
Vickie looked around the backyard frantically, searching for any sign of him, but there was no one. Her rapid heartbeat was in her ears as she stood, her legs shaking. There was no time to think. The girl ran into the kitchen, filled with smoke from the burning movie snack on the stove. She quickly grabbed a kitchen knife as a last attempt to defend herself, not noticing the masked figure already in her home.
On high alert, she slowly backed away to the patio doors, silently slipping out and pressing her back against the fence, out of sight. Carefully, she glanced through the window just in time to see someone dressed in black running across the house. She gripped the knife and the phone tightly, ducking under the window as she tried to escape.
As she looked up to see if he was close, he was already looking at her. His face was covered by a white mask that looked like it was permanently screaming with droopy black eyes. Vickie shrieked when the man broke through the glass, grabbing her wrist. She quickly punched the stranger in the head with the phone to get away, running for her life.
Her movements slowed when she reached her boyfriend's lifeless body, still tied to the chair. Guilt panged in her chest; he'd still be alive today if she hadn't invited him over. There wasn't enough time to grieve because once she stopped, the glass on the patio doors crashed, and the man came through, almost grabbing her.
Vickie ran as fast as her legs would take her, making it to the other side of the house in time to see her parent's car pull in, but it wasn't fast enough. The attacker grabbed her from behind, covering her screams with his gloved hand as he stabbed his large knife into her chest. Vickie fell to the ground sobbing in pain, and the stranger moved over her. The girl tried to fight with all her strength, but he was stronger. The man wrapped his strong hands around her neck. She choked against the pressure on her throat, trying to breathe.
For a moment, she wanted to give up. Dan was dead because of her; she thought about letting him take her too. But she was only seventeen years old, about to finish high school. Vickie had her whole life in front of her. She couldn't let it end this way. With all her energy, the teen swiftly kicked the man off her and crawled to her feet. Just then, she saw her parents walking to the door, talking like nothing was wrong. Vickie tried to call out for her mother, but even yelling came out in a whisper and hoarse.
Inside the house, Vickie's parents were greeted with a wall of smoke coming from the kitchen, the fire alarm beeping rapidly. Her mother quickly headed toward the source of the small fire, putting the flaming pan into the sink and smothering it with water. "Where's Vickie?"
"I don't know," her father said, concerned. As the smoke cleared, he noticed the broken glass and his heart dropped. "Oh, my God. Honey, call the police."
Outside, Vickie was tackled to the ground, lying helpless as the attacker dragged his knife carefully across her chest, teasing her. Weakly, she reached up and took off the mask. Her eyes widened with recognition. He wasn't a stranger at all.
His knife quickly came down on her again, stabbing her repeatedly.
Vickie's mother held the phone to her ear, ready to call for help, when she heard the gasping of her daughter on the other end. She didn't want to believe what she was hearing. "Vickie, baby? Is that you?"
The woman's questions went unheard as the attacker dragged Vickie's body across the lawn. Her breathing was shallow as her life hung on by a thread.
Her father took the phone from her, hearing a weak cry before the phone disconnected. He glanced at his wife in fear, "Drive to the neighbors and call the police," he instructed, trying to stay calm.
She shook her head, not wanting to leave her daughter in danger. "I can't-"
"It'll be okay. We'll find her; she can't be far."