Chapter 3: Are you okay?

May sat on the edge of Misty's bed, her fingers nervously twisting the hem of her shirt. Her eyes were wide, reflecting the lingering fear that gripped her heart. She hadn't slept in two days, not since the attack.

Misty stood nearby, concern etched on her face as she watched her friend. She'd known something was wrong when the police had called her asking if she could pick up May. Her usual cheerful demeanor was replaced by a haunted silence. "May… what happened? You're scaring me."

May swallowed hard, her throat dry and her voice shaky. "Misty… I don't even know where to start. It was… it was like a nightmare."

Misty moved closer, sitting beside May on the bed. She took May's hand in hers, giving it a gentle squeeze. "Take your time. I'm here for you."

May closed her eyes, trying to steady her breathing as the memories of that night flooded back. She felt her chest tighten, but Misty's presence gave her the strength to continue. "It was late… I was alone at the house, just getting ready for bed. I thought I heard a noise outside, but I ignored it… I assumed it was just the wind or something."

Misty listened intently, her hand never leaving May's. "And then?"

May's grip tightened as she continued. "The phone rang. At first, I thought it was my parents because it was so late at night, but when I answered, it was a man's voice. He… he sounded so calm, almost like he was playing a game. He asked me all these questions… about where I was, what I was doing… and then he said he was watching me."

Misty's eyes widened, her heart pounding with dread for her friend. "Did you see him?"

May slowly shook her head, her voice trembling. "He told me that he was gonna kill me the same way he did to Dawn. I couldn't move, couldn't breathe… I was so afraid that I froze with fright."

Misty pulled May into a hug, holding her tightly as if she could shield her from the terror she had faced. "I'm so sorry, May… I can't imagine how terrifying that must have been."

May suddenly got up and paced back and forth in Misty's room, her arms crossed tightly over her chest. The mood suddenly switched from sorrow to a bit of worry. She glanced at Misty, who was sitting on the edge of her bed, looking both concerned and confused.

Misty's eyes followed May's movements, trying to understand the sudden turmoil her friend was going through. Finally, she couldn't take the silence anymore. "May, keep telling me, what else happened that night?"

May stopped pacing, turning to face Misty. Her voice was hesitant, like she was afraid to say the words out loud. "Misty… there's something that's been eating at me, and I don't know if I'm crazy for thinking it, or if… if it could be true."

Misty frowned, her concern deepening. "You know you can tell me anything, May. Whatever it is, we'll figure it out together."

May took a deep breath, her hands trembling slightly as she spoke. "Misty, what if… what if Ash is Ghostface?"

Misty's eyes widened in shock, and she stood up, her voice a mixture of disbelief and confusion. "Ash? May, what are you talking about? Ash would never do something like that!"

May's eyes filled with tears as she tried to explain. "I know it sounds crazy, Misty, but… there are things that don't add up. The voice on the phone… it was distorted, but there was something familiar about it. And then… Ash suddenly appeared in my room right as those phone calls were being made, I spoke to the sheriff but he told me that his phone records were clear. That's why I am not fully sure that it was him but it still seems suspicious doesn't it?!"

Misty shook her head, refusing to believe what she was hearing. "May, you know Ash. He's our friend, he's your boyfriend for Christ sake! I can't believe you are even saying this! Why would he do something like that?"

May's voice wavered as she continued, clearly torn between her trust in Ash and the fear that had been gnawing at her since the attack. "I don't know, Misty. Maybe… maybe it's not him. But what if he's in trouble? Or… what if he's been hiding something from us all along? First Dawn, who's next!?"

Misty's heart raced as she tried to process what May was saying. The thought of Ash being involved in something so horrific was almost too much to bear. "May… I know you're scared, and I don't blame you after everything that's happened. But we have to be careful. Accusing Ash without proof could be life changing."

May nodded, her tears falling freely now as she sat down on the bed, burying her face in her hands. "I don't want to believe it, Misty. I don't. But every time I close my eyes, I hear that voice… and I can't stop thinking about Ash's face when he was arrested. I don't want to believe it but right now it's just too much."

Misty sat beside May, wrapping an arm around her in a comforting gesture. "We'll figure this out, May. But we have to be smart about it. We'll talk to Ash, see if he knows anything. Maybe there's an explanation that we haven't thought of."

Brock was enjoying his evening off. Although he was still upset about the passing of his dear friend Dawn he knew that moping around about the unfortunate situation he wasn't going to be able to move on properly, he knew it was a difficult decision but he had to. With a contented sigh, Brock sank into his favorite chair, the comforting scent of simmering stew wafting through the air.

He had just settled in with a book when the phone rang, its shrill tone cutting through the peaceful ambiance of his living room. Brock frowned, glancing at the clock. It was late—too late for a normal call. He hesitated for a moment, then reached for the receiver.

"Hello?" Brock's voice was calm, but there was an undercurrent of curiosity.

There was a brief pause on the other end, just the sound of faint breathing. Brock's brow furrowed as he waited, the silence stretching uncomfortably long.

"Who is this?" he asked, a hint of annoyance creeping into his voice.

A voice finally responded, low and sinister, sending a chill down Brock's spine. "Do you like scary movies, Brock?"

Brock's heart skipped a beat, his hand tightening around the phone. This was not the kind of call he was expecting. His instincts wanted to think that this was just a kid pranking him but at the same time he had a gut feeling that told him something was very wrong.

"Who is this?" Brock demanded, trying to keep his voice steady.

The voice on the other end chuckled darkly. "That's not the question, Brock. The question is…what's your favorite scary movie?"

Brock's mind raced, trying to place the voice. It was familiar in a way that made his skin crawl, but he couldn't pinpoint where he'd heard it before.

"I'm not in the mood for games," Brock said, his tone hardening. "If you don't tell me who you are, I'm hanging up."

"Oh, but Brock," the voice purred, "we're just getting started."

Brock stood up, his eyes scanning the room as if expecting the stranger to be watching him. "What do you want?"

"I want to play a game," the voice replied, dripping with malice. "Let's see how well you know your friends…or should I say, how well you know yourself?"

Brock's heart pounded in his chest as he moved to check the locks on the windows and doors, his mind racing with possibilities. Was this some sort of prank? But the voice's tone was too cold, too menacing to be a joke.

"I'm done with this," Brock said firmly, reaching to end the call.

"Hang up, and you'll regret it," the voice snapped, all traces of humor gone. "I know where you live, and besides I'm sure you wouldn't wanna go through the same thing that your little friend Dawn went through right?!"

Brock froze, his finger hovering over the button. The voice continued, low and threatening.

"Your brothers and sisters are asleep, aren't they? It would be a shame if something happened to them too…"

Fear gripped Brock's heart like a vice. Here he was trying to get over what happened to Dawn and now his beloved siblings were at risk. He couldn't risk their safety.

"What do you want me to do?" Brock asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

"Good boy," the voice cooed, the mockery returning. "All I want is for you to play along. Answer my questions, and maybe—just maybe—I'll leave your family alone."

Brock swallowed hard, his mind racing for a way out of this nightmare. "Fine. Ask your questions."

"First question," the voice said smoothly, "which friend have you known the longest?"

Brock didn't hesitate. "Ash and Misty of course."

"Very good," the voice said, amusement lacing its tone. "But that was just a warm-up. Let's see how you handle this one: Who's the one with the natural green hair?"

Brock blinked, the question catching him off guard. "That's a somewhat odd question but it's definitely Drew.."

"Oh, Brock," the voice sighed, "you are correct again. You made it farther than Dawn did, that's for sure."

Before Brock could respond, the line went dead, leaving him standing in the middle of his living room, the silence pressing in around him like a suffocating blanket. He quickly dialed for the police, his hands trembling slightly.

Brock's thoughts were a whirlwind of fear and determination. Whoever this Ghostface was, he knew a lot about who Brock hangs around with. He had a feeling that this mysterious figure was someone that was targeting his friend group, he had to tell the others as soon as possible.

Drew sat in his bedroom, surrounded by stacks of magazines, photographs, and trophies from his many modeling competitions. He had spent the day working out and catching up on some homework, getting ready for another dreading Monday morning. The moon was full, he was enjoying a quiet moment to himself. The soft glow of the alarm clock appeared through his dark room that read 12:45pm.

As he absentmindedly ran a hand through his green hair, the phone on his desk rang, startling him out of his thoughts. Drew glanced at it, puzzled. He wasn't expecting any calls, especially not this late. With a slight frown, he picked up the receiver.

"Hello?"

Silence greeted him on the other end. Drew waited, his frown deepening, and just as he was about to hang up, a voice, low and chilling, cut through the quiet.

"Do you believe in ghosts, Drew?"

Drew's grip on the phone tightened, a shiver running down his spine. The voice was unfamiliar, dripping with menace. He sat up straight, eyes narrowing.

"Who is this?" Drew demanded, trying to keep his voice steady.

The voice chuckled, a dark, twisted sound that made Drew's blood run cold. "The better question is…who's next?"

Drew felt a flicker of anger beneath his unease. He wasn't one to be easily intimidated, and this felt like someone trying to play a sick joke. "If you think you're scaring me, you're wasting your time. I don't have time for games."

"Oh, but Drew," the voice said smoothly, "this is no game. I've been watching you. You're quite the star compared to your other little friends. But let's see how you handle this challenge."

Drew's mind raced. Was someone stalking him? His eyes darted around the room, half expecting to see someone lurking in the shadows. He stood up, moving to his window and peering outside, but the street was quiet, the only movement coming from the trees swaying in the breeze.

"What do you want?" Drew asked, a cold edge to his voice.

"I want to know," the voice said, "How far you'll go to protect what you care about. Let's start with something simple. What's your favorite scary movie?!"

Drew scoffed at the question. "Oh please, come on Ash you should know that I don't watch that shit."

The voice chuckled again. "Oh poor little Drewey. I hope you know this isn't a prank and I hope you also know that I'm not Ash".

Drew clenched his jaw, his patience wearing thin. "Enough with this bullshit. Whoever you are If you have something to say, say it."

"Oh, I will," the voice replied, a sinister smile evident in their tone. "But first, a little test. If you can answer my question correctly, maybe I'll let you off the hook. Maybe."

Drew took a deep breath, his competitive spirit flaring despite the fear gnawing at the edges of his mind. "Fine. What's the question?"

"Let's see… What's the most dangerous thing in the world, Drew?"

Drew paused, taken aback. His mind flicked through countless possibilities. Was it a trick question? Was the answer natural disasters, was it drugs or even death? So many possibilities but none seemed right.

"Well?" the voice pressed, a dark urgency creeping in. "Tick-tock, Drew."

Drew frowned, then answered slowly. "The most dangerous thing in the world is fear. It makes people do things they wouldn't normally do… like making a call like this."

There was a long silence on the other end, and for a moment, Drew thought the caller might have hung up. But then, the voice returned, colder than ever.

"Interesting answer, Drew. But I think you're wrong. The most dangerous thing in the world is someone who has nothing left to lose… like me."

Drew's heart pounded in his chest. "Who are you?" he demanded, anger mixing with his fear.

"Someone who's very close, Drew," the voice whispered. "And someone who's always watching."

The line went dead, the abrupt silence almost as unsettling as the call itself. Drew stared at the phone, his mind racing. This wasn't just a prank—it felt too real, too personal. He needed to stay alert, protect himself and those he cared about.

He quickly dialed the police, recounting the call with as much detail as he could. As he hung up, Drew knew one thing for sure: whoever this Ghostface was, he was coming soon.

Alright I hit over 2,000 words. I hope this story is going well and I hope it is entertaining enough to want more. I plan on making this story at least 10 chapters long. I look forward to haunting your nightmares even more as I continue this story. See you all soon!