Since the terror of that night months ago, Emily's had trouble shaking off the feeling of being watched. Even tonight, with the soft Christmas carols playing from her phone, she finds herself glancing at the windows, half-expecting to see someone outside. Her hands tremble slightly as she adjusts a red ornament, the glossy surface reflecting her face back at her. She takes a deep breath, telling herself it's over. They all said it was over. Trying to push away the lingering tension, she turns to the stove, placing a foil-covered pan on the burner. As the popcorn begins to pop, she feels the corners of her mouth lift into a small smile. She's looking forward to Lucas coming home and having a cosy movie night with her brother. This feels… normal. Just as the first few kernels start popping, her phone vibrates on the counter, and she glances at the screen. It's Lucas. The sight of his name on her phone brings a wave of relief—comforting, grounding. Emily picks up the call, her tone warm.

Emily: "Hey, you're not home yet?"

Lucas: "Almost there. You didn't start the movie without me, did you?" he says playfully

Emily: "Maybe a little, just to keep things interesting. I've got the tree lit up, and I'm making popcorn, so you'd better hurry before I pick the movie myself." she says, teasing, but her voice softens as she realizes how much she's missed these simple moments, the kind she hasn't had much of since last summer.

Lucas: "Fine, fine, I'll be there soon. But hey…" (his voice shifts, becoming more serious) "It still feels weird, doesn't it? Like, things are supposed to go back to normal, but… they're not. I mean, not really."

Emily: "Yeah… I get that. It's like everything's fine, but… there's something in the air, you know? Like we're just waiting for something to go wrong."

The popcorn continues to pop on the stove, filling the room with a familiar, comforting aroma. Emily grips the phone a little tighter, finding it strange that she and Lucas seem to be on the same page, sharing an unspoken worry.

Lucas: "Look, Em, we're safe now. It's over. We can't let what happened ruin everything. We're not going to let it keep us from living, right?" he says in a reassuring tone

Emily: "Yeah, you're right. Thanks, Lucas. I'll see you soon, okay?"

Lucas: "Just don't eat all the popcorn before I get there!" he responds in a playful tone

Emily: "No promises. get home safe, alright?"

They hang up, and Emily lets herself relax, exhaling a breath she hadn't realized she was holding. Her heart feels a little lighter after the call, and she glances back at the tree, admiring the ornaments that catch the light and cast soft reflections. She gives the popcorn a quick shake, letting herself get lost in the simple pleasure of the moment, imagining how nice it will be to have a quiet night in with Lucas. Just then, her phone rings again, interrupting her thoughts. She frowns, glancing down to see Unknown Number flashing on the screen. Emily's smile fades as she stares at the screen. Unknown Number. She hesitates, her finger hovering over the decline button. Probably just a telemarketer, she tells herself. But something compels her to answer—it's the lingering anxiety from the summer, perhaps, that little part of her that hates the idea of unknowns. She takes a breath and swipes to answer, bringing the phone up to her ear.

Emily: "Hello?"

There's a pause, just a beat too long, before a voice responds—a calm, almost friendly voice, but with a strange tone that immediately puts her on edge

Mysterious Voice: "Hello, is this Jessie?"

Emily's brows knit together, her shoulders tensing at the unexpected question. It's such a simple thing, but something about his tone feels… wrong.

Emily: "No, it's Emily. I think you have the wrong number."

Mysterious voice: "Oh, sorry about that. I was given this number… must have been a mistake." (pauses, then continues smoothly) "Is that popcorn I hear in the background?"

Emily freezes, her eyes darting around the room instinctively. She looks over at the stove, where the foil-covered popcorn is still popping softly. she lets out a forced laugh, trying to shake off who this person is

Emily: "Uh… yeah, I'm making some popcorn. Planning on watching a scary movie with my brother when he gets home." she says with a nervous laugh

Mysterious voice: (chuckling lightly, with an undertone that makes her shiver): "Perfect night for a scary movie. What are you planning on watching?"

She rolls her eyes, feeling a mixture of unease and annoyance. Maybe it's just a prank call, she tells herself. Still, she finds herself glancing toward the windows, her hand gripping the phone tighter.

Emily: "Oh, just Halloween. It's a classic."

Mysterious voice: "Ah yes, Halloween… with Michael Myers, right?"

Emily: "Yeah. You know him?" she says while relaxing slightly.

Mysterious voice: "He's my favourite type of killer."

Her smile fades, her heart beating a little faster. There's something in his voice, something unsettlingly genuine, like he isn't joking. She looks around the room, feeling suddenly exposed, as if every shadow is hiding someone.

Emily: "Well, it was nice talking to you, but… I really need to get back to my movie night." she says, clearing her throat, trying to keep her voice steady

Emily hangs up the phone and attends back to her popcorn until her phone starts ringing again, Emily jolts out of her skin and slowly looks over on her screen to see that its the same unknown number, she hesitantly picks it up and answers the phone.

Mysterious voice: "So quick to hang up. You're having such a nice night, aren't you? Popcorn's almost done, isn't it?"

Emily's blood runs cold. Her grip on the phone tightens as she stares at the stove, Her pulse quickens, and she steps away from the stove, feeling her mind race with questions and fear.

Emily: "Who… who are you? What do you want?" she asks in a shaky voice

Mysterious voice: "I want to know if you can handle a real scare. Hang up on me again, and I'll cut you open. You didn't think it was over, did you, Emily?" he says, voice lowering, taking on a chillingly menacing tone

Her breath catches in her throat as she backs away, her mind racing, barely processing what he's saying. She quickly turns off the stove, her eyes darting to the front and back doors, making sure they're locked. Her heart pounds as she clutches the phone tightly, her voice barely a whisper.

Emily: "This… this isn't funny. You're sick." she responds, voice trembling.

Mysterious voice: "Oh, Emily, I was hoping we'd get a chance to talk… one-on-one."

Emily hears a faint creak outside, like footsteps on the porch, and her pulse spikes, panic taking over. She looks toward the front door, her mind racing with thoughts of running. But before she can move, there's a faint rustling sound coming from the back of the house. Every nerve in her body screams to get out, to hide, but she feels frozen. Suddenly, the window shatters behind her as the killer breaks through, glass spraying across the floor. Emily stumbles back, letting out a scream as she turns and bolts toward the stairs. Emily's heart pounds as she races up the stairs, the sound of her rapid footsteps echoing through the house. Glass crunches behind her as the killer steps through the broken window, each deliberate, slow step filling her with dread. She doesn't dare look back, afraid of seeing the dark figure looming just a few steps behind. Her breath comes in short gasps as she dashes into her bedroom, slamming the door shut and locking it. She stumbles back, her hands shaking, desperately scanning the room for something—anything—that could protect her.

Emily: "Come on, think… think…" she whispers to herself

Her gaze lands on a small, decorative lamp on her nightstand. She grabs it, clutching it tightly in her hands, feeling its slight weight as a small comfort. She hears the creak of footsteps approaching her door and forces herself to breathe quietly, pressing her back against the wall. The door handle jiggles, then rattles violently as the killer tests the lock.

Mysterious voice: "I know you're in there, Emily. You can't hide forever."

Emily's heart races as she glances toward the window, considering an escape, but it's too high to climb down without risking serious injury. She takes a deep breath, forcing herself to focus, clutching the lamp tighter as if it's the only thing anchoring her. The door rattles again, harder this time, and then suddenly, it bursts open with a crash, the force of it flinging her backward. Emily lets out a scream as the killer steps into the room, his silhouette filling the doorway. His face is obscured by the shadow, the mask barely visible in the dim light, but she can see the glint of a knife in his hand.

Emily: "Stay away from me! I'll… I'll fight you!"

Mysterious voice: "I was counting on it."

She raises the lamp and throws it at him, aiming for his head. He dodges, the lamp shattering against the wall behind him. She seizes the moment, lunging toward the door, but he grabs her arm, yanking her back with a grip that's like iron. Emily screams, struggling against him, clawing and kicking. She manages to twist her arm free, darting toward the window, hoping she can break through and escape. But he's faster, blocking her path and cornering her. With no other choice, she grabs a heavy book from her nightstand and swings it at him, connecting with his shoulder. He grunts, stumbling back, but quickly regains his balance, reaching out and grabbing her wrist. She gasps as he tightens his grip, forcing her down to the ground, pinning her beneath him. In a final act of desperation, her hand reaches up and grabs the edge of his mask, yanking it off. Her eyes widen, her breath catching in her throat as she stares up at him, recognizing the face beneath the mask. She opens her mouth to scream, but he quickly raises the knife, bringing it down with brutal force.

Lucas trudges up the snowy driveway, his breath fogging in the cold night air. The soft glow from the Christmas lights in the windows brings a faint smile to his face, a reminder of the holiday warmth waiting inside. Through the quiet, he can hear the faint strains of "Silent Night" drifting from within the house, blending with the stillness of the falling snow. But as he reaches the doorstep, something catches his eye. One of the windows near the front door is shattered, shards of glass scattered across the snow like jagged diamonds. Lucas stops, his smile fading as a cold sense of dread creeps over him. His mind races, a dozen explanations flashing through his head, each more unsettling than the last.

Lucas: "Emily…?" he mutters, his voice barely a whisper

He fumbles with his keys, hands shaking as he unlocks the door and steps inside. The air hits him immediately—thick, suffocating smoke fills the entryway, carrying the harsh scent of something burning. The low, peaceful melody of "Silent Night" hums softly from the radio, its calm notes clashing with the chaos in the air. As he enters, his eyes go wide. Flames are licking up from the stovetop in the kitchen, a small fire blazing from what appears to be a scorched popcorn pan. Without a second thought, Lucas grabs a nearby towel, rushing to the stove. He beats the flames back with swift, desperate movements, ignoring the heat that sears his hand. After a tense moment, the fire dies, leaving behind only the acrid smell of burnt popcorn. He coughs, waving a hand in front of his face as the smoke clears, but the knot in his stomach tightens further. The house feels wrong—empty and ominous, despite the holiday lights casting a warm glow.

Lucas: "Emily? Where are you?" he calls out, his voice shaky but determined

Silence. The comforting song on the radio only adds to his unease, the words "sleep in heavenly peace" echoing hauntingly through the house. He moves further inside, looking around, but there's no sign of her. His heart pounds harder, each step filling him with a growing sense of dread. He makes his way to the base of the stairs, glancing up into the darkness above. A chill runs through him as he starts to ascend, his hand gripping the banister so tightly his knuckles turn white.

Lucas: "Emily…?" his voice barely a whisper, almost as if he doesn't want an answer

As he reaches the top of the stairs, he's hit by another smell—sharp, metallic, unmistakable. His stomach churns as he approaches Emily's bedroom door, which hangs slightly ajar, a dim light spilling out onto the hallway floor. He pushes the door open, and his worst nightmare unfolds before him. Emily's body lies sprawled across the bed, her guts are hanging out of her body laying beside her. her skin pale, her eyes wide and vacant. Blood soaks the sheets beneath her, pooling in a dark, terrible stain. Above her bed, smeared in blood, is a message written in bold letters: "I'm coming for you, Tweek. I'm coming for all of you."

The world tilts as Lucas stumbles back, his eyes fixed on the horrific sight. His mind refuses to believe what he's seeing, but the image burns itself into his memory. His heart pounds in his chest, each beat hammering against his ribs as his breath comes in short, panicked gasps. Lucas speaks, barely a whisper, voice breaking as he falls to his knees

Lucas: "No… no… Emily…"

He collapses to the floor, his entire body shaking as he stares at his sister's lifeless form, feeling an overwhelming wave of helplessness and grief. The cheerful holiday lights in the room now cast twisted shadows, their warmth lost in the cold, horrifying reality before his haze of shock, he fumbles for his phone, his hands shaking so badly he almost drops it. When he finally dials 911, he can barely speak, his voice a strangled whisper as he waits for someone—anyone—to answer.

Lucas "Please… you have to come… my sister… she's dead." he says, into the phone, his voice broken, choked with grief

The words sound foreign, like they belong to someone else. He lets the phone slip from his hand, staring at the floor as tears blur his vision. The radio downstairs still plays "Silent Night," the calm notes filling the smoke-filled air as he sits there, lost in a world that's come crashing down around him.

The soft glow of red and blue lights flashes against the snow outside the house, casting an eerie glow over the quiet neighbourhood. A crowd of onlookers gathers at the edge of the yard, murmuring in hushed voices as paramedics and police officers make their way inside. Officer Howard steps out of his patrol car, his eyes narrowing as he takes in the broken window and the faint smell of smoke still lingering in the frigid night air. The holiday lights strung across the house feel jarringly out of place amidst the chaos, adding an unsettling layer to the scene. As he walks up the steps, he spots Lucas sitting on the front porch, his shoulders hunched, his face buried in his hands. Howard's expression softens, and he approaches slowly, crouching down to meet Lucas's gaze.

Officer Howard: "Lucas, son… I'm so sorry."

Lucas barely lifts his head, his eyes red-rimmed and unfocused. He looks past Officer Howard, staring blankly at the house, as if he can't quite believe what's happened. His hands tremble, and he grips his knees tightly, trying to hold himself together.

Lucas: "I… I was just on the phone with her… not even an hour ago. She was fine. She was…" (his voice breaks) "…she was fine."

(Howard places a comforting hand on his shoulder)

Officer Howard: "I know, Lucas. We'll do everything we can to find out who did this."

Howard's words sound distant to Lucas, almost like a faint echo. His mind is racing, replaying his last conversation with Emily, the warmth in her voice, her laugh… and now, the empty shell she'd been reduced to. The message scrawled on the wall in her blood flashes in his mind, making his stomach twist.

Lucas: "She… they left a message. For Tweek. They… they're coming for him. For all of us."

Howard's expression darkens, a flash of recognition in his eyes. He knew what had happened over the summer, the horror the group had gone through. But for it to start again—this time with Emily—it sent a chill down his spine. He glances back at the house, his jaw clenched, a storm of emotions crossing his face.

Officer Howard: "We'll protect you. All of you. But right now, I need you to stay calm, alright? Just take a few deep breaths. You're safe here."

Lucas nods numbly, though his heart feels like it's shattering into pieces. He watches as the paramedics and officers move in and out of the house, his gaze fixed on the stretcher being wheeled out, covered with a white sheet. He turns away, unable to bear the sight. At that moment, Tweek, Kyle, Stan, Wendy, and Butters arrive, their faces etched with shock and confusion. They rush toward Lucas, each one wearing a mix of grief, horror, and disbelief.

Tweek: "Lucas… what happened? Where's Emily?" he says, his voice shaking, looking around in panic

Lucas: "She's… she's gone, Tweek. They… they killed her." he said, his voice choked, struggling to hold back his tears

Wendy: No... she cant be...

The group falls silent, the weight of his words settling over them like a shroud. Tweek's face pales, his hands trembling as he looks at the house, the flashing lights reflecting in his wide, fearful eyes. Kyle puts a hand on his shoulder, trying to steady him, though his own expression is grim.

Stan: "But… we thought it was over. How… why is this happening again?"

Officer Howard: "Listen, I know this is terrifying. But we're going to keep you safe, alright? Whoever did this left a message, and it's clear they're trying to scare you. I need each of you to be extra careful. Stick together, and don't go anywhere alone."

Lucas clenches his fists, his gaze hardening as he looks down, a mix of fear and anger bubbling up inside him. He feels a surge of frustration, his heart breaking with the realization that his sister's life had been taken as part of some sick, twisted plan.

Lucas: "We have to stop this. I… I can't let them take anyone else." he says, his voice barely above a whisper, voice trembling with anger.

The others nod, each one of them haunted by memories of the last time they faced this nightmare. Tweek looks down, his expression a mix of fear and determination, as if he knows deep down that this isn't over and that they're all targets. Tweek stands a few feet away from the others, his hands clenched into fists, shoulders tense. He stares at the ground, his heart pounding as he struggles to process what's happening. The memories of last summer—the fear, the relentless terror—flood back to him, each one sharper and more haunting than before. He feels a rush of anger, frustration bubbling up inside him like a storm he can't contain. Tweek shakes his head, his voice barely above a whisper at first.

Tweek: "It was supposed to be over… we were supposed to be safe."

(Kyle steps closer, placing a hand on his shoulder)

Kyle: "Tweek, we'll figure this out. We'll get through it together, just like last time."

Tweek: "No, Kyle. Last time, people died. People we cared about. And now… now Emily's dead too. This isn't over, it's never going to be over!" His voice cracks, and he takes a shaky breath, fighting back the tears that threaten to spill over.

(Stan tries to step in, his voice gentle but firm)

Stan: "Tweek, we're all scared. But walking away won't change anything. We need to stick together."

Tweek: "You don't get it, Stan! Every time we think we're safe, every time we think we can move on… it just comes back. I can't keep doing this. I can't… I can't keep looking over my shoulder, waiting for someone else to die."

(Wendy's voice is soft, filled with understanding)

Wendy: "Tweek, we're all hurting. Losing Emily like this… it's tearing us apart. But walking away… it's not going to stop them. Whoever's behind this wants us scared, broken. If you leave, you're just giving them what they want."

(Tweek lets out a bitter laugh, his expression darkening)

Tweek: "So what, Wendy? You want me to just stand here and pretend everything's fine? That we're all going to make it out of this alive?" He glances around at each of them, his voice rising with a mix of desperation and anger. "I'm tired of pretending, okay? I'm tired of being scared!"

(Butters, who's been quiet the entire time, takes a hesitant step forward)

Butters: "Tweek… we're scared too. But… but you're not alone. We're all here with you. We're all feeling this… this fear. But we can't give up."

Tweek looks at Butters, his expression softening for a brief moment before the anger resurfaces. He takes a step back, shaking his head slowly.

Tweek: "Maybe you can all stand here and pretend we'll get through this. But I can't. I… I just can't do it again."

He turns on his heel, starting to walk away, his movements stiff with anger and frustration. Kyle steps forward, reaching out to him.

Kyle: "Tweek, don't do this. We need you. I need you here."

(Tweek stops, his back still turned, his voice carrying a note of finality)

Tweek: "I'm sorry, Kyle. But I need to go. I need… I just need to be alone right now."

Kyle: "Tweek, please. You don't have to do this alone."

Tweek: "Yes, I do. I'm tired of being a target. I'm tired of… of feeling helpless."

(Stan steps forward, his voice firm)

Stan: "Tweek, if you walk away now, you'll just be giving them what they want. Don't let them win."

Tweek's gaze hardens, and he turns away again, starting down the snowy street, his footsteps echoing in the silence. The group watches him go, a heavy silence settling over them. Wendy crosses her arms, her face etched with worry.

Wendy: "He's hurting. We all are. But if he keeps pushing us away… he's going to get himself killed."

(Kyle looks down, clenching his fists, his voice filled with determination)

Kyle: "Then we won't let him push us away. We'll be there for him, whether he wants us to be or not."

Butters: "Yeah… he's our friend. We can't just let him face this alone."

(Howard, who's been watching from a distance, steps forward, his expression serious)

Officer Howard: "Then stay close. Whoever did this is counting on you all being scared, divided. But if you stick together… you'll be stronger than they expect."

Kyle: "We'll find a way to get through this. For Emily. For all the people we have lost to this nightmare."

The group stands together in the quiet, each of them silently vowing to fight back, to protect one another, even as the shadows around them deepen. As Tweek's figure disappeared into the darkness, the group remained on the snowy street, shivering not just from the cold, but from the chill of fear settling deep in their bones. The holiday lights around them twinkled innocently, casting soft glows that seemed to mock the nightmare lurking in their lives. Each of them felt the weight of what lies ahead, an unspoken promise binding them together. They knew the danger was far from over—but this time, they would face it head-on, refusing to let fear tear them apart. In the silence, a single thought lingered among them: whatever horrors awaited, they would face them together.

End of Chapter 1