Chapter Six: Stalker In A Skull Mask

***

Alisha was in her room, The Cranberries blasting at full volume while reading The Midnight Club when the phone rang.

"Josh!" Alisha yelled, wanting him to get it since she was busy reading and was almost done, and she was certain her sister was still asleep, having collapsed into bed when they'd gotten home and remaining asleep ever since. 

The phone kept ringing, and Alisha heard nothing from Josh of him getting it.

"Fucking doofus," Alisha muttered, putting her book down and stopping her music as it paused on Zombie, getting off her bed and out of her room to the still-ringing phone.

Fully annoyed, Alisha grabbed it off the cradle and pressed it to her. "Hello?"

"Hey, Alisha," Kate's voice answered.

"Oh, hey, Kate," Alisha said, her bad mood instantly lifting. "What's up?"

"Well, I'm still pissed over those assholes. What about you?"

"Oh, I'm still fucking furious," Alisha agreed, her rage boiling inside her. "And I bet they got off scot-fucking-free."

"Of course they did. They're Sunnyvalers. They could get away with fucking murder and think they could if they had balls to do it," Kate said venomously. "Did your dad find out about the crash?"

"No, but I don't think we're gonna get away with it. What about your folks?" Alisha questioned.

"Mom yelled, Dad yelled after she got to yelling, I yelled back. Yelling how much we were risking our futures over a stupid prank, how we could have killed them, how stupid we were to be picked up by the cops, blah blah blah, Surprised you didn't hear their screaming."

"So... what was expected to happen," Alisha surmised. "And I'm sure I would have if I hadn't passed the fuck out when Deena and I got home."

"Lucky. I didn't get to sleep until I think a few hours ago because of my cheek."

"Yeah, I think Deena's still asleep," Alisha confided.

"I bet she would be after seeing Sam like that again," Leah's voice came from the background.

"I can't believe Sam would be with those assholes, let alone date one of them," Kate muttered bitterly.

"Agreed," Alisha concurred, though she wasn't too surprised—it seemed par the course for the girl who pretty much forgot the rest of them when she moved to Sunnyvale. "And if I'm ever seeing that douchebag Peter again, I'm gonna punch him again."

"As you should."

Alisha laughed. "Glad you endorse in my violence against Sunnyvalers."

"When it comes to those pricks, I'll gladly endorse as much violence as I like."

"Ah, true romance—violence via punching Sunnyvale assholes," Leah piped in faintly.

"Leah!" Kate yelled at her sister as Alisha tried to hide the flush that came over her cheeks, knowing her best friend was remorseless in that.

"Sorry about my idiot sister. I'm gonna kill her after this," Kate told Alisha.

"It's fine," Alisha replied, smothering her flush as she curled the cord of the phone around her finger. 

"Anyway... So. I'm babysitting in a few minutes. It's probably gonna be such a drag, so I'll probably call you again begging for rescue."

"Happy to do so, Kate," Alisha said. "I'll talk to you later then and provide you your rescue."

"God yes, please. Bye, Lee."

"Bye, Kate."

The call ended, and Alisha hung the phone up, a tingling, warm feeling fluttering in her stomach. Alisha smiled, before it fell. God, why was she still feeling like this? She couldn't fall even more for Kate, not when their futures were certain to diverge, not when Alisha had no fucking clue Kate felt the way. It didn't help Leah was convinced they were being idiots who should confess already and get the pining over with—her words, not Alisha's. But Alisha would rather die than confess and be stung with rejection, to lose Kate when she got out of here.

Better to swallow down her love for her than have it be crushed if she did share it.

And yet...

And yet, Alisha would still answer if she called.

Turning away, Alisha decided to get dinner on, heading into the kitchen and getting a pizza out to thaw, making herself a sandwich while she waited for it to thaw. As she did, the phone started ringing again.

"JOSH!" Alisha yelled at the top of her lungs, knife scraping against the peanut butter jar—they were almost out—and over the half-stale bread.

This time, Josh heard the ringing, heading up from the basement and picking up the phone. Alisha focused on eating her sandwich as her brother talked to whoever was on the phone—until the phone slammed back on the cradle and Josh shouted, "DEENA!"

"She's still asleep, doofus," Alisha told him. Josh gave her a skeptical look before marching toward her room.

"Josh, wait—Josh!" Alisha yelled, coming after him as her little brother opened Deena's door and walked into her room, right up to her bed where her twin was still asleep, curled under the covers—covers that Josh yanked away without mercy.

That woke her sister up, Deena lifting her head as she glared at Josh, murder in her eyes. "I'm gonna kill you."

"Yeah? Well you better do it before Dad gets here, 'cause he's gonna murder you!" Josh revealed, turning to a stunned Alisha. "Both of you!"

Alisha was frozen, realising what that phone call now was—their dad, finally finding out about what happened last night. Shit.

"You know the cops called him at work, about some accident last night?" Josh said, looking at his sisters for answers—they hadn't told him about it when they got home.

Alisha winced. "We... may have had been part of it."

Josh stared at her with a raised eyebrow as Deena rolled her eyes and demanded, "Please get out of my room, guys."

"You get out of your room. You've been in here all day!" Josh retorted.

"Like you've been in the basement all day?" Alisha asked, eyebrow raised pointedly.

"Not the time, Alisha," Josh returned.

Deena, however, grabbed a pillow and threw it at Josh. 

Their brother ducked as he yelled, "Get up!"

Deena glared at him again as Josh left the room, Alisha looking at Deena and admitting, "He has a point, Deena. At least get out of here to have something to eat. You haven't had anything all day."

Deena looked like she was going to throw a pillow at Alisha, but she muttered, "Fine."

Alisha walked out of her sister's room, where she saw Josh.

"Hey, doofus, I got some pizza out a few minutes ago for dinner, why don't we put it in the oven?" Alisha suggested, going to the pizza thawing on the counter.

Josh just shrugged, helping Alisha with unwrapping the pizza from its plastic confines and into the oven.

By the time it was in, Alisha heard Deena getting up and saw she was in the living room, turning on the TV. It switched onto a news channel in front of a familiar view—the mall with the graffited doors, the news reporter lady interviewing a Black man who must work in the mall as well—interviewing him about the massacre two nights ago, barely noticing Deena picking up their dad's empty beer cans as she watched the report.

"I'm here with Martin P. Franklin, Shadyside Mall janitor," the news reporter lady said before turning to Martin. "Martin, what do you know?"

"He was a normal dude," Martin answered, shrugging, and Alisha instantly realised what this was truly about—the news lady was asking those who worked at the mall about the killer, how well they knew him. If they saw the warning signs before he snapped, tells his murders could have been prevented, his included. That they knew his identity underneath the skull mask. "Always thought he would, like, just go home and read a comic book or whatever. He was chill, just snapped, I guess."

A second later the video was replaced by a photo of the killer—a guy with a half-smile on his face, who didn't seem much older than Alisha was. The identity of the Skull Mask Killer.

"A baffling development here as mall employee Ryan Torres has been identified as the killer," the news lady said, continuing her coverage of this breaking development. "A recent graduate of Shadyside High, an ordinary guy who, as those who knew him attest, just seemed to snap."

"Holy shit," Alisha breathed. She shared a look with her twin, before Deena turned the TV off and threw the beer cans out, making a beeline to the phone.

"Pizza's in the oven!" Alisha yelled at her twin.

"Thanks!" Deena shouted back as she dialled a number and took the phone into her room, straining the cord, tapping a drumstick against the dresser. Alisha held a suspicion of who Deena was calling.

It was confirmed when Alisha heard a faint voice say, "East Union Medical."

Her sister's response was drowned out by the ringing of the doorbell.

"Josh! Get the door!" Alisha and Deena shouted in unison.

No sign of their brother, or if he even heard the doorbell ringing.

Ignoring the doorbell and shouting her brother's name again, Alisha got up to check on the pizza as Deena tried to get in contact with Sam's room, to check up on her. Seeing the pizza was cooking well, Alisha checked the timer's count for how long was left before leaving the kitchen and making her way to Deena's room, twin intuition telling her that Deena would need her.

The doorbell was still ringing, and there was still no sign of Josh.

Deciding to just answer it herself just to stop the ringing, Alisha was about to walk to the door and answer it when she heard Deena say, "I'm sorry, uh, Miss. Ms... Hi, um... Is Sam there? I just... I wanted to see how she was doing—"

"Deena?" came the faint voice of Sam's mother.

That decided it for Alisha. Her twin needed her right now, if she was talking to Sam's mother.

Alisha pivoted and walked into Deena's room, hovering at the door frame as her twin's face twisted. "Yeah. Hi. I was just w... worried about her and—"

"You won't stop until you've ruined her life completely, will you?" Ms. Fraser interrupted, her harsh voice raising Alisha's hackles—she never liked Sam's mother, and she was liking her even less with how she spoke to her twin about just wanting to make sure Sam was okay. "She's fine. Don't call here again."

The phone hung up and Deena's face contorted with rage and hurt, slamming the drumstick so hard against the dresser it snapped. That was Alisha's cue as she came in and wrapped her arms around Deena, asking, "You okay?"

"No," Deena muttered.

"Want some pizza?"

Deena didn't answer, but Alisha took that as a yes.

And that was the doorbell's cue to begin ringing again.

"JOSH!" Deena and Alisha yelled in unison.

Again, their brother didn't answer the door.

"I'm gonna wring his neck," Alisha muttered as she and Deena walked to the door, since apparently they were the only ones who could hear the doorbell. The doorbell had stopped ringing when the twins got to the door, but Alisha could still hear it, piercing her brain, as Deena opened the door to whoever was ringing their doorbell so incessantly.

"Hello?" Deena called out. When no answer came, she and Alisha opened the screen door of their porch, looking out into the street, where Alisha saw it.

A figure in the darkness, wearing the costume the Skull Mask Killer—Ryan Torres—had worn as he committed his killing spree. Alisha's blood boiled, thinking of only one asshole who would do that.

"Oh, hey, Peter!" Deena yelled, coming to the same conclusion. "See you got the full costume now!"

Peter didn't answer or walk any closer.

"You coward! Come up here instead of lurking in the dark!" Alisha shouted.

Still Peter didn't move, standing by the bushes like he was fucking Michael Myers.

"Come on, let's not give him the satisfaction of yelling at him," Alisha muttered, taking Deena's arm as they walked back inside, where another ringing awaited them.

The ding of the timer for the pizza.

"Oh shit," Alisha cursed as she and Deena headed toward the kitchen—only to run straight first into Josh as he said, "Hey!"

"Jesus Christ, doofus, make some noise, would you?" Alisha muttered, heart resettling back into its normal rhythm.

"Pizza ready?" Josh asked, ignoring what Alisha said.

At that, Alisha's annoyance ricocheted as Deena snapped, "Oh, that ringing you heard."

She pushed past Josh into the kitchen as their brother turned to her and defended, "What? I have priorities! Jeez."

"More like freaking selective hearing," Alisha commented, following after her sister. 

Josh was a step behind them, heading to the oven to get the pizza out with Alisha as Deena, ready to have dinner and try to forget that psycho Peter lurking in their neighbourhood. Alisha opened the oven door, heat washing out before she and Josh grabbed the now-hot pizza with tea towels around their hands, wincing slightly at the heat.

"Shit! Hot, hot, hot," Josh cursed as he and Alisha put the steaming pizza on the counter. Alisha patted his head good-naturedly as she headed to where her twin was to help with the cutlery, stopping at seeing her twin frozen at the window.

"Deena?" Alisha asked, frowning. "You okay?"

"Alisha, get over here," Deena hissed.

Now concerned, Alisha left her plate on the counter, looking out through the window—and felt herself freezing at what she saw.

Peter was standing in their backyard. And she could see a knife gleaming in his hand.

"What the actual fuck?" Alisha breathed, aghast at the audacity of this asshole.

"Sunnyvale prick," Deena muttered caustically as she walked into the kitchen—and grabbed a knife.

Josh walked up to the window in the kitchen, eyes wide as he stared at the asshole standing in their backyard. "Holy shit."

"Get away from the window," Alisha ordered, shoving her brother back as she grabbed her own knife, Deena giving their brother a look as she ordered, "Josh, stay here," and marched toward the back door. Alisha was right behind her, her grip tight on the knife, rage boiling inside her at the audacity of Peter, of how dare he come to their house, have a knife and get close to their brother—

Deena yanked the door open with such force it was almost ripped off its hinges as she stormed out. Alisha marched up beside her and down the stairs, knife aloft, ready to be used in defence.

But Peter was gone, disappeared into the shadows.

"You fucking coward!" Alisha screamed.

"You're pathetic!" Deena yelled out.

The twins stared into the darkness, for any sign of Peter—the glimpse of his skull mask, the glint of his knife. But nothing.

That fucking coward was gone.

Alisha glowered into the darkness before she whirled back and marched up the steps and inside. A second later she heard Deena do the same, the door slamming behind her.

"Who was that?" Josh asked.

"An asshole trying to scare us," Deena told their brother. "No one to worry about."

Josh didn't look like he believed them, but Alisha wasn't going to bother talking about that asshole, and Deena was the same. But as Alisha made for the pizza, her mind was thinking of that asshole, with his skull mask and knife, if he was going to keep messing with them.

And what else he might do.

***

Sloane knocked on the frame of her brother's door. "Hey, Zack."

Her brother looked up at her from his notebook, pulling his headphones down. "Hey, Sloane."

"You okay? Dad was really mad earlier," Sloane asked, coming in to sit beside him.

Zack shrugged. "I'm fine. I mean, it sucked, but I'm fine."

Sloane raised an eyebrow. "You sure?"

"Yeah," Zack answered before he looked at her. "Are you okay? Your nose..."

"Oh. It's all right now. I don't really know why it bled," Sloane answered, smiling. It dropped back into concern again. "What about you? Your nose bled as well."

"It's fine," Zack muttered. He frowned. "That was weird, that our noses started bleeding right before... everything."

"Yeah," Sloane murmured, frowning as she remembered the sharp pain, seeing the blood drip from her nose, from her brother's nose, from those girls' noses—Deena and Alicia. But more than that, what she felt, when her nose had started bleeding—pain, betrayal, and an ancient, overwhelming rage. A rage so consuming it felt like Sloane's own rage, mixing with a thirst of an emotion that had felt like vengeance, thick and choking and bitter. Such dark, ancient emotions, curdled over time, permeating that singular area that was now the crash site that it had seeped into the very land, infecting it with that fermented rage.

Sloane didn't know why she'd felt such ancient, twisted emotions of rage and bitterness, rage that had felt like her own and spurred her own anger, but it frightened her.

And with the rage, something else had stirred, dark and malicious, hungry for blood. Something that had reminded Sloane of the energy she'd felt from Ryan, two days ago.

She still hadn't heard anything from Ryan, and was fearing the worse.

Sloane hadn't said anything to Zack, because she didn't know it herself, had tried to remedy it by doing cleansing ritual after cleansing ritual when she got home, even attempting a banishing spell against that ancient anger, that insidious darkness, and that last spell seemed to vanquish the darkness—but nothing got rid of the anger, Sloane still feeling it inside her, like it had truly become her own, or maybe added on to it, swelling it. Sloane didn't know the answer, and she didn't want to know.

It scared her even more than when she originally felt that anger and that darkness. Of what it could mean, the potential answer so terrifying it made Sloane want to bury her head in a pillow and scream or do another banishing spell.

Zack was looking at her,  concerned. Sloane shook her head, attempting a smile. "It was weird. But probably nothing to worry about. After all, it mustn't be the family curse or one of us would have dropped dead."

Zack laughed. "Yeah, definitely."

The smile Sloane had was genuine this time as she wrapped her arms around her brother and kissed him on the forehead, Zack squawking in protest. "Slo, I'm not five anymore!"

"Don't care," Sloane replied, pulling away as she smiled at her brother, before it turned into a mischievous smirk. "Although, I think we have to talk about something..."

On cue, Zack's face flushed bright red. "What something? Nothing happened."

"Zack, I may not be attracted to people, but I still have eyes. I saw sparks flying between you and the sheriff's nephew, could literally feel them flying," Sloane told him, smirk still on her face. "You've fallen hard for him."

"No, I haven't—shut up! Your weird emotion feeling ability is wrong," Zack denied, still flushing red as Sloane felt those sparks, those first stirrings of love, rising up in her brother.

"Sure, sure. I'm wrong and there is absolutely nothing between you and Adam," Sloane said, knowing exactly what she was doing.

On cue, those feelings spiked, Zack's face turning a deeper red.

"Look, even if there was—and there isn't—it's not like it can happen. He's a Sunnyvaler, a Goode for fuck's sake who's probably straight, and this world isn't a world where that can happen. It was doomed from the start," Zack explained. He looked down as guilt crossed his face. "Besides, after what I did..."

"I'm sure he knows it was an accident, Zack," Sloane murmured, looking at her brother in understanding. "And I know you're scared. But you don't know until you do. And I think it can work—there was something between you two, a connection like you knew each other all your lives. And he literally took a bath in Kool-Aid for you, Zack. I don't think anyone would do just that, especially for us."

Zack frowned, but looked semi-convinced.

"And anyway, maybe you'll meet again and you'll get to explain everything?" Sloane pointed out. "And don't doom yourself just yet. If anyone could defy the odds, it would be you guys."

Zack looked at her. "How are you so good at love advice when you don't even get crushes?"

"Years of dealing with your crushes and being an empath," Sloane teased. She wrapped an arm around her brother and pulled him in. This time, her brother didn't protest.

"Hey, Zack, even if it doesn't work out, I'll always be there for you, in love and in whatever else comes after us. Against the world, right?" Sloane murmured.

"Against the world," Zack agreed, leaning his head on her shoulder—he was growing tall enough that he could do that, growing so much taller than her it was almost unfair.

Sloane smiled at her brother—no matter how tall he got, he would always be her little brother—before she pulled away. "Okay, I'm gonna head out now and make some dinner. See you down there for it."

Zack nodded as Sloane walked out of her brother's room and headed down the stairs. Moonlight trickled in from the window in the kitchen as Sloane turned the TV on for background noise, rifling through the fridge for anything to make dinner.

She froze when she heard the news.

"We have breaking news, a new development in the mall massacre—the killer has been identified."

Sloane turned, her mind screaming at her to ignore it, to pretend what she would see wouldn't be on there, wouldn't be said, that it couldn't be him, he couldn't have done it, he couldn't have murdered Heather, he couldn't—

Ryan's face shattered all her denials, as the reporter continued, "Eighteen-year-old Ryan Torres, a recent graduate of Shadyside High who, by all accounts of those who knew him, was a normal kid until he snapped."

Ryan was the killer. Ryan was the one who committed that murder spree, Ryan was the one who killed Heather, Ryan was the one who the sheriff shot dead, Ryan was the killer.

Ryan was the Skull Mask Killer. He had killed Heather. And he was dead. Her friends, her best friends, were both dead.

Sloane didn't know whether to cry or remain frozen.

A banging against the door snapped Sloane out of her reverie.

She jumped, whirling to the front door, heart racing inside her chest, the news still playing in the background, drowned out by the relentless banging, amplified by the screen door as it rattled from the bangs against the wooden one. It wasn't her dad, who had a key to the house, and they didn't have anyone who'd bother visiting their house.

So who the hell was banging on their front door like they wanted to break it down?

Thumping came from the stairs and Sloane turned to see Zack there, confusion on his face. "Who the hell is trying to bust down our door?"

Her little brother was what snapped Sloane into action.

"Stay there, do not move," Sloane ordered, marching into the kitchen. At her uncharacteristically stern voice, her brother remained at the stairs as Sloane grabbed one of the big kitchen knives and walked back out.

The banging was still continuing, louder than before, so loud Sloane could hear it in her brain, thumping alongside the rapid beat of her heart.

"If someone comes in, you run out the back and scream for help," Sloane ordered as she made her way to the door.

"Sloane, what's going on?" Zack asked, voice uncertain.

"Stay there, Zack," Sloane ordered as she marched toward the door, the banging so loud and forceful their door was buckling under the strain.

Then it stopped. And yet, the silence wasn't comforting.

It just unnerved Sloane even more.

Touching her pentacle to steady herself, thinking of her brother behind her, who she had to protect against whoever was at the door, Sloane tightened the grip on her knife as she stood before the door, breathing in and out as she grabbed the door handle, then opened the door.

And saw a ghost.

A person wearing a skull mask and black robe with a skeleton pattern, the exact costume the killer—that Ryan—wore when he committed his killings stood on their doorstep, staring at Sloane. A knife glinted in his gloved hand in the dim yellow glow of the porch light.

Sloane slammed the door closed, pressing her back against it as the banging began again, moire forceful than ever.

"ZACK RUN!" Sloane screamed, fear shooting through her like a lightning bolt, terror for her brother, to have him get out of here and away from whoever the fuck was outside that door and wanting to get in, who she wouldn't let touch Zack, she would die before he could get near her brother, she had to keep the door closed so Zack could get out of here, her brother had to get out of here!

Instead, she saw him running down the foyer, terror in his eyes as he held something aloft. "Sloane!"

"Zack, run! Get out of here!" Sloane yelled, but her brother ignored her as he pelted down the foyer, as now Sloane could see what was in his hands—a baseball bat.

"What are you doing Zack?! RUN!" Sloane screamed, slipping as the door gave an inch.

Her brother ignored her, shoving her off the door and opening it, bat raised as he roared, "GET THE FUCK AWAY FROM MY SISTER!"

Sloane braced herself for the sound of the knife stabbing into Zack's flesh, his blood spattering over her, her brother dying trying to save her—

Nothing.

Sloane looked up, saw Zack there, whole and unharmed, a puzzled look on his face as he lowered the bat, squinting into the darkness beyond the porch light. But he was alive. He was alive.

"You idiot," Sloane sobbed, dropping the knife as she grabbed her brother, anger and relief swarming her. "Why didn't you run? I told you to run! Why didn't you?"

Zack looked at Sloane like she was insane. "You're my sister, Sloane. There's no way in hell I would have left you. Against the world, remember?"

"Oh Zack," Sloane gasped, crushing her brother into a hug. He didn't protest, holding her just as tight. She could feel him trembling, feel his fear and love for her, so much love he was willing to throw himself in danger, to defy her orders just to protect her.

It made Sloane want to scream at him and to hold him even tighter.

When they pulled away, Zack looked out past the open door. "I think he's gone now. Whoever he was, he's not coming back again. Not without knowing he's gonna have a fight waiting for him."

He lifted the bat, determination on his face.

Sloane, however, was feeling something she felt rarely, something she only felt when people hurt animals or looked like they wanted to hurt her brother, something she never wanted to indulge in, scared of how much could happen if she let it out. 

Anger.

Someone had come to their house—someone had threatened them with a knife, had tried to break in, would have hurt them or worse if he hadn't gone. Would have hurt her brother. This was more than graffiti on their lockers or on their house after murders happened and people wanted to blame her ancestor's curse, more than even what had happened with the Kool-Aid. The graffiti was hurt people lashing out on someone easy to blame, the Kool-Aid a cruel prank by assholes.

This was someone with the intent to hurt them. To murder them—to murder her brother.

And that was something Sloane Fier would not tolerate. She would never tolerate threats against Zack. That had stirred those embers of anger into a rising, roaring fire.

"Get to the car, Zack," she growled

Zack looked at her, startled at the rage in his usually kind and chipper sister's voice. "Sloane, maybe we should call D—"

"Get into the car, Zackary! Right now!" Sloane yelled.

Her brother startled, but obeyed, walking out of the house before he hesitated and came back, grabbing the baseball bat—just in case. He looked at Sloane, but what he must have seen in her face stopped him from questioning her as he turned and walked out of the house, to the car.

Sloane watched him go until he was safely in the car. She was about to join when she remembered how he grabbed the bat, and realised maybe she should get protection, in her own way.

Picking up the knife, Sloane held it as she turned and ran up the stairs toward her room, beelining to her altar. There, was the other thing she'd been working on this past day.

Jars, full of salt, feathers, pine needles, rosemary, obsidian and white candles. Protection jars, meant to protect against dark or negative energy, five in all.

Sloane grabbed them all and shoved them into the satchel she used to go into the woods and get what she needed for her spells, hesitating for a moment before grabbing a stick of sage, a lighter, a salt canister and her black obsidian and smoky quartz crystals. With them all in, Sloane looked at the statue of her goddess and whispered, "Mother, Maiden, Crone, I'm scared. More scared than I've been before. I try not to ask much of you, but please, watch over me and my brother. Please, protect us in any way you can. Protect Zack. If you must protect one of us... let it be Zack instead of me. Let it be my brother. Please."

Her goddess didn't respond, but Sloane felt better, lighter, like she could feel her presence, watching over her and Zack. She nodded at the statue before she turned, grabbing her leather jacket just before she left her room, grabbed her keys and headed out of her house, barely remembering to lock the door, marching to her car.

Getting inside and tossing her bag full of protection in the back, Sloane started the car as Zack asked, "Sloane, where the hell are we going?"

"To the people who deal with stalkers," Sloane muttered as she drove away from their house.

Towards the police station in Shadyside.

***

The sound of pills clattering against the table sounded like gunshots.

Leah tried to ignore how her sister was enlisting the kids she was babysitting to help with her drug dealing business, instead focusing on her Algebra homework, chewing absentmindedly on her pen as she leaned her head against Simon's leg, her boyfriend letting her as he watched a shark documentary on the TV. Metallica played soothingly in Leah's ears as she tried to work out these equations.

"You got this, babe," Simon encouraged, nudging her shoulder with her foot.

"Thanks for the support, lover boy," Leah replied, tilting her head back so he could see her smile before she looked back on her equations, scribbling answers down as Simon offered suggestions, occasionally playing with her hair as Leah let him, the moment soft and comfortable.

He'd picked her up after both their shifts, thought she worked the afternoon shift at the records store while he worked the fully day at Grab And Buy, and she was glad it had been an afternoon shift, since she spent the morning at the Watkins house to visit Heather's mom. The grieving woman was a wreck, torn over grief and guilt of how their relationship had detonated before Heather's death, the regret eating her alive. Leah had comforted the poor woman, offering her kindness she may not have received much of over the past two days before she left to get ready for work, Heather's mom thanking her over and over again for the kindness she visited upon her. And with work over, she and Simon had driven here just as Kate started babysitting, where they'd been here ever since.

Her sister had given them laundry duty, and Leah had done her portion of the work before turning to homework.

But that decision was coming to haunt them—more accurately, haunt Simon—as Kate walked into the living room and saw the laundry. She looked at her sister and best friend and demanded, "What happened to sorting this?"

"Homework happened," Leah snarked. She pointed to her pile, neatly folded up, and added, "But I did that."

Kate glared at her sister, even with her contribution, before upending the laundry basket full of clothes and began sorting them, saying, "Lights and darks, and watch for stray socks."

"Remind me what's in it for me again?" Simon asked, fiddling with strands of Leah's hair.

"Nope," Kate said, still working through the pile.

Deciding to help her sister, Leah set down her math book and moved to help, sorting the lights and darks while watching for socks as Simon stood up, taking off his red hoodie and revealing the bloodstained white shirt underneath—the same shirt he'd worn last night when Sam puked blood over him.

"Jesus, are you still wearing the same clothes from last night?" Kate questioned, now foregoing laundry as she stared at Simon, disgust clear on her face. "Did you wear that to the grocery store?"

Leah's nose wrinkled. "That's gross, Simon."

"I had to work a double shift and this was all I had in the car," Simon defended to Leah and Kate. "So, yes. Yes I am."

Leah's face contorted with disgust even more as her sister let out a grossed-out noise, before a beeping punctured the conversation.

Kate turned to her pager, then at them, looking straight at Simon. "That's disgusting. You're disgusting. Leah, how are you still attracted to him?"

"Couldn't answer that," Leah replied as her sister left the room and went to the phone. As she did, Leah turned to Simon, who was stripping off his shirt.

"How did no one see you wearing a bloody shirt, Sim?" Leah asked, genuinely curious.

Simon shrugged. "Must have gotten lucky, babe."

"Extremely lucky," Leah agreed. She looked at Simon, and her boyfriend's mouth quirked up in a smile.

"My eyes are here, Leah," Simon joked, grinning at her.

Leah pretended to glare at him before grinning. "It is an improvement over the day-old bloody shirt."

Simon grinned wider. "If you wanted to see me take my shirt off, you could have just asked"

Leah swatted at Simon's chest as he laughed, taking her hand as he lead her to the dining room, where the kids Kate had enlisted to help in her drug dealing were still sorting the drugs. A bowl of popcorn was on the table, which Simon was eating with gusto. Leah ate a couple pieces of popcorn as she heard Kate say, "I gotta go. Call you back."

That must have signalled the end of the phone call as her sister walked into the dinning room and stopped at seeing a shirtless Simon.

"Jesus! Put something on," Kate demanded.

"What? Make up your mind, woman!" Simon retorted, the words half-garbled from the popcorn.

Before any response could be made from either of them, a crash came from the living room.

"What the hell was that?" Leah asked, confusion and a note of fear in her voice.

Kate's eyes zeroed in on the kids at the table, and she ordered, "Stay here."

They nodded, turning back to sorting the drugs as Kate gestured to Simon and Leah and the three of them creeped down the hallway, toward the living room. Leah heard crashing and clattering noises from the living room, her heart thumping louder with each noise.

As they crept down the corridor, about to peer around the corner, Simon whispered, "Maybe this isn't a good idea—"

"Shh!" Kate hissed, as she peered around the corner, and Leah did the same—and saw, hunched over a pile of laundry, a figure in a black robe, silent as the grave.

"Holy shit," Leah breathed, heart thumping irregularly at the sight of the intruder.

But Kate was undeterred, looking around the corner and saying loudly, "Hey, creeper. What the f—"

The intruder turned, and Leah's soul left her body.

He was wearing a skull mask and the pattern on the robe was a skeleton—the same outfit the Skull Mask Killer had worn as he murdered his victims. In one hand, he held Simon's bloodied shirt, and in the other a knife. A knife that looked very real as it glinted in the dim light of the TV.

Leah reacted on instinct, dragging her sister back into the safety of the hallway, away from the armed intruder, as Simon grabbed Kate and Leah as well, dragging them further down as Simon looked at Kate and hissed, "Are you crazy?!"

"It's just that Sunnyvale asshole," Kate replied, way too calm for the situation.

"Yeah, one with a knife, Kate," Leah reminded, but her words fell flat as Kate looked back. "Kate!"

Leah made to grab her sister again, but she held her hand up as Leah peered over and saw what Kate was seeing—nothing.

The intruder was gone.

The trio looked at each other before creeping forward, Leah and Simon holding each other's hands firmly, Leah's eyes never leaving her sister as they creeped around the room, looking for any sign of the intruder. But there was nothing;  It was like he'd been a ghost, there one moment, then gone the next. Leah was beginning to think they imagined him if not for the broken glass of the window—and the holes in Simon's shirt as he lifted it up for her and Kate to see. Holes that had not been there before.

The twins exchanged a look. They hadn't imagined it. The intrusion had happened. And that meant only one thing.

***

The door of the Lane house swung open, revealing the form of Mrs. Lane standing there as she looked at Kate, Leah and Simon, the two girls Kate was meant to be babysitting in front of her, that now Mrs. Lane was going to look after tonight after what had happened earlier. While the three of them tried to understand what had happened, with the young girls now being somewhere safe.

"Thank you so much," Kate thanked, smiling brightly.

"Oh no, I'm so happy to have their company," Mrs. Lane replied, smiling. Leah returned the smile—despite what she'd heard of the tragic and gory fate of her daughter, Leah liked Mrs. Lane.

"You're a lifesaver, Mrs. Lane," Kate said, herding the girls to the older woman.

"You're really helping us out here. I don't know how much we can thank you," Leah said, genuinely appreciative that she was doing this.

"Well, I used to be a nurse," Mrs. Lane replied. She looked over their shoulders, a frown creasing her eyebrows. "Are you... you sure everything's okay?"

Leah looked back and saw Simon standing there, the blood on his shirt on full display.

Jesus Christ, Leah thought as her twin smiled brightly and assured, "Totally! I just have to run out quickly and—"

***

"Kill that pervert!" Kate snarled, fury radiating off her in waves as she stormed across the Johnsons' dining room, fuelling Alisha's own rage.

The Schmidt sisters and Simon had come over to their place a few minutes ago and told them everything—about Peter in his skull mask costume breaking into the house Kate was babysitting at and causing her to drop the kids off at Mrs. Lane's before coming to them. It had Alisha's rage rise up in a furore with every word she heard, like it was a new spark that fanned the flames of fury higher.

"Why would he break in there? I just don't understand what he was doing," Deena questioned.

"What reason does any Sunnyvale asshole who thinks he can just break into our house need?" Alisha spat, caustic venom lining each word.

"He was acting all shifty and shit. Like going through the laundry," Simon revealed, Leah nodding from where she was standing next to him at the wall frame.

"It was pretty weird and kinda gross that he was doing that," Leah admitted.

Alisha wrinkled her nose, rage tempered by disgust that the asshole wasn't just a stalker who broke and entered into a house, but also a pervert sniffing about someone else's laundry. "Ew."

Simon, however, turned to Josh where he was sitting at the dining table as he joined her brother, pitching to him, "You need to get some groceries, man. We have an incredible sale at the store right now..."

"Not the time for a pitch, babe," Leah told him as Kate turned to Deena and Alisha and revealed, "He broke into the house. He had a knife."

Alisha's eyes widened in shock—Kate had not told them the creep had a knife—as Josh turned to her crush and said, "Whoa! With the kids there? That's wack!"

"That's fucking right, Josh. It is wack. Thank you," Kate agreed.

"It's more than wack. It's fucking psychotic, it's what that is," Alisha seethed.

"Exactly, Alisha," Kate concurred, giving her a smile that had Alisha's heart flip before it dropped as she continued, "There were kids there. Okay, and what? He thinks because he's balling Sam, he can come and prank us on our own turf?"

Leah shook her head, a glare on her face. "I don't know about prank, but this has gone too far. Those kids could have gotten hurt if he hadn't left."

"You could have gotten hurt as well," Alisha pointed out. Leah and Kate only nodded, agreeing with her.

Deena, who'd walked away, tightened her jaw as she said, "Hey, you know what? You're right. Fuck this. Fuck Peter."

"Hello? Don't forget the most important part. Fuck Sam," Kate reminded Deena.

Deena's face darkened at the mention of her ex-girlfriend. "Yeah, fuck her. She needs to get her psycho boyfriend in check."

Alisha watched as her sister turned, grabbing her keys and Alisha knew what she meant—Deena was going to Sam and tell her herself to get Peter in check before things escalated any further. And Alisha was all too willing to go. Maybe she would get to punch him in the face again after all.

Simon and Leah were right behind Deena, but Kate paused as she looked at Josh, "You coming or what?"

Josh, who looked like he was going to stay, got out of his seat. A spike of something ugly stirred in Alisha's heart as she followed after her friends and sister. Leah, catching sight of her face, whispered, "What happened?"

"Nothing," Alisha muttered, and it was nothing. It was idiotic of her to be jealous over her brother—Kate's tone probably startled Josh into coming. And besides, Josh was her brother, the last person Alisha should be jealous of. She wasn't jealous.

Alisha shoved that down as they got out of the house and into Deena's car, crammed together since there was six of them and probably breaking some laws, but none of them cared as Deena drove away from their house and toward where Sam was, where they could demand Peter to stop before things got bad.

The hospital.

***

It's starting...

So this was a long-ass chapter, but I really enjoyed writing it!! I loved writing the little bits of Kalisha with that phone conversation, and the whole Johnson siblings dynamic (Alisha is def the sibling who fights with her siblings but is the first to take care of them and make sure they're eating and the first to defend them), and with the twins getting protective of each other and Josh—it was so fun to write, especially with what else I have planned for these siblings >:)

And on the other side, the Fier siblings! God, I love writing these siblings so much, they are my second faves after Rowan and Alistair Graveswood. And for any who guessed correct, the anger Sloane felt was Sarah Fier's, and the darkness was the curse >:) But writing Sloane find out about Ryan being the killer... that hurt 😭 (right now, she's in grief, but she's gonna connect all the dots with Ryan being the killer and all that dark energy she's been feeling...)

But what I loved most was writing the very first instance of Sloane's protective nature/dormant anger rise up when Skull Mask came for her and Zack (she was being so final girl with that knife)! And while she told him to run, there's no chance Zack is running and leaving his sister behind and willing to beat back Skull Mask with a baseball bat—we love protective siblings 🥰—and the anger Sloane has inside her has risen up with the threat to her brother! No one harms or threatens to harm her little brother and gets away with it, and she decides the best way is go to the cops and tell them (and setting their fates to collide with the others >:) ) As for the sage, salt, crystals and jars... those may be important in the future... >:)

And everything with the trio that is Kate, Leah and Simon... I loved writing Simon and Leah being so comfortable with each other even when dating, and with the whole trio's dynamic... and then Skull Mask rocks up (I'd def be freaking out if I was in that position), before everything comes to a head in the Johnson living room and they all go to the hospital and to Sam

Also, just to clear something up—there's NO love triangle happening here. Josh doesn't have a crush on Kate in here and is more likely waiting for his sister to finally admit her feelings to Kate, so no love triangles aside from that moment of doubt with Alisha here (saying that, any Josh and Kate moments is strictly platonic, and def changing the whole bathroom scene to her and Alisha) No love triangles here everyone (besides, Alisha and Josh are SIBLINGS, that would be weird)

Anyway, the plot's now starting as we descend into the horror with undead killers and the curse... who's excited? >:)

Please read, comment and vote!

GhostWriterGirl out!