Summary: Answering the phone can be a slippery slope when the caller is a killer with an obsession. Be careful who you anger.
A/N: Little blurb that was on my mind, might make this a series eventually, let me know what you think!
Masterlist
You knew it was wrong. Even from the first call you'd known. However, your life had been severely lacking in excitement and the deep voice that threatened to deliver just that had come at the perfect time.
You had just moved to Woodsboro a week before the first call came. It was late, and the house was empty. You were lounging on the couch, flipping through tapes for your impromptu movie night. When the phone rang you hadn't thought much of it. Pressing it against your ear with your shoulder, your eyes never left the movies in your hands.
"Hello?"
"Hi."
"Uh, who's this?" You asked, eyebrow quirking at the flirtatious tone.
"You first."
"As if." You snort, tossing the movies to the side and rolling onto your stomach.
"Aw, come on."
"Ohh, yeah, beg for it." You snort back. After a beat of silence, you try again.
"Did I scare you away?" You ask teasingly. The voice doesn't respond, and shortly after you hear the click of the call ending.
The calls never really ended there, though. Every Wednesday night, like clockwork, the man called at 9 o'clock on the dot. Something you were saying must have kept him coming back, though the calls always ended with an abrupt hang up from the stranger. After a while, it was actually nice.
You didn't know his name and he didn't know yours, but you knew him. He was a horror movie fanatic, most calls were spent with him quizzing you, despite the fact that it always ended in a tie. He couldn't trip you up with his questions, and you could tell he liked that. You liked his jokes. He made you laugh, sometimes without even trying. He had a morbid sense of humor that only got worse every time you laughed, snorted, or giggled.
Over the weeks you had made friends at school. Sidney Prescott in your English class, Tatum Riley and Stu Macher who religiously cheat from your homework in Algebra, and Randy Meeks who always has a movie recommendation. Even Sidney's boyfriend, Billy Loomis, could be considered a friend if you squint hard enough.
But the caller was your favorite. Maybe it was sad, maybe it was pathetic, but you couldn't stop yourself from picking up the phone every time it rang.
"Hey there, stranger." You answer once again on a Wednesday night. There's a smile on your face, and you push your homework to the side, giving the caller your undivided attention, unlike your first call. Pathetic.
"Hi, Doll."
"What are you up to tonight?"
"Was watching some movies. Made me think of you."
You smile widens as you step away from your desk and throw yourself onto your bed. You lay on your side, facing your open bedroom window. It's dark out, so you can't see much, but the wind blows cool air into your room that feels good against your warm skin.
"Yeah? Which movie?"
"Carrie."
"Ah, my favorite. I'm flattered."
You knew you were flirting. It had become natural after a while. Still, a flicker of shame passed through you. You didn't know who you were flirting with. He could be your principal for all you knew. You just couldn't help yourself.
"You should be. I missed you."
You don't know what to say for a moment. Your calls were teasing, banter, beating around feelings that you had hoped were there. There were never open declarations, though. This was new. You could tell he was coming to the same realization, because for a while the only sounds between you were slow breaths.
"I, uh, missed you too," You say slowly, fingers playing with the corner of your blanket. And then, deciding to push the limit, you ask, "When can I meet you?"
He doesn't answer.
"Oh, come on. It's been months of talking and I don't even know your name. Are you seriously going to hide behind the phone forever? What if I stop picking up?" Your voice raises as you sit up in your bed. You're angry. Of course you are. The caller has strung you along for weeks now, and eventually the thrill and anticipation had begun to feel more like rejection.
Again, he doesn't answer.
"Whatever." You say, pulling the phone away to hang up.
"Y/N-,"
Silence. You pull the phone back to your ear, half expecting to hear the click of your caller hanging up. He's quiet, not even the sound of his breathing reaches your ear.
"You know my fucking name?" You ask in quiet anger. This whole time you spoke under the assumption that you both knew nothing of each other. Maybe he didn't want to meet because he was scared. But he did know you, and the betrayal of it all stung. He just didn't want to.
You hung up before he could answer. Fuck him.
It's over a week later when you find yourself laying across the fountain with your friends. Your head lays on Tatum's lap, your legs across Randy's. You're tired. It's a Thursday, meaning your stranger had called you the night before. Only this time, you didn't answer. Your stranger is persistent, though, because he called again and again. You hoped he was frustrated. He deserved it.
"Fun night?" Tatum asks, smirking down at you as she plays with your hair.
"The funnest." You smirk back, shielding the sun from your eyes with your hand.
"Oh really? What kept our sweet Y/N up so late?" She asks.
"More like who." Stu chimes in, leaning his head on Tatum's shoulder to look down at you.
You shrug, refusing to answer even when Stu's jaw dramatically dropped. Let them have their perverted thoughts, it's a much better story than the sad truth.
You tilt your head to peak up at Sidney, who is undoubtably tucked away quietly with her boyfriend, but also likely to be amused by the conversation. You're not surprised to find Sidney smiling at you amusedly. You are surprised to find her boyfriend's eyes staring intensely at you from over her shoulder. It wouldn't be so unnerving if he would at least smile, but he's looking at you like your existence has personally offended him.
You send Sidney a smile back and then turn away. You didn't know Billy enough to have a solid opinion on him. He was handsome, that's obvious, so you could see what attracted Sidney to him. Outside of his looks, Billy avoided you like the plague. If you ever ended up alone, he was gone before you could realize it. When your group met up like this, his only acknowledgement of you were quiet glances and nothing more. You didn't take offense to it, although it did make you a little uneasy.
Weeks went by. The stranger still called, every Wednesday at 9PM like clockwork. You never answered. It was upsetting him, you could tell. Some nights he gave up after the first time, others he called again and again until you buried your mobile deep into your closet to get some peace.
He never missed a Wednesday. Until he did on September 25th, and shortly after the news broke. Casey Becker and Steve Orth were murdered.
