ELEVEN

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𝙘𝙝𝙖𝙥𝙩𝙚𝙧 𝙚𝙡𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙣 :
which is the truth

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      (F/N) RAN INTO the road as she found a van, trying to catch the driver's attention but the driver swerved to miss her

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(F/N) RAN INTO the road as she found a van, trying to catch the driver's attention but the driver swerved to miss her. Except, the driver turned too sharp and the van veered off the road at its top speed, flipping over onto its side, and sliding off into the thick foliage.

"Fuck!" (F/N) cried, pushing her hair out of her face. She sprinted to the van, looking through the side of it to find Gale lying limp and covered in blood. "This can't be fucking happening...!" She felt tears fall from her eyes.

     The girl turned and spotted Dewey's patrol jeep sitting in the driveway, its door wide open. Feeling a rush of hope, she raced towards it. She entered the car and reached for the ignition only to find that the keys had been removed. They must be on Dewey, she figured.

A light illuminating the night catches her attention and brings her attention to the front door which was opening. A figure appeared in the doorway, standing still. She flipped on the headlights to brighten the front side of the house, revealing that it was none other than Dewey in the doorway.

(F/N) got out of the car, "Dewey!" She was only able to take a few steps out when she noticed his knees buckling and his body hitting the hard wooden porch, a knife sticking out of his back. "No! Dewey—Fuck!"

Standing behind him was none other than her not-so-friendly ghost, who noticed her and waved. (F/N)'s face dropped and she flipped him off, "Fuck you!"

The killer shook his head as though he were a parent disappointed in their child. He bent down and ripped his knife out of Dewey's back and made sure to show it off to (F/N) before she rushed back into the jeep and locked it behind her once the door was shut.

      The killer reached back down to Dewey, messing with something on his uniform. (F/N) watched in horror as the ghost stood up and revealed the car keys. They jingle in the wind as the ghost shook them. She kept her cautious eyes on the killer as she observed him. The ghost rushed forward, trying to pull on the passenger door but she was there first, holding the lock button down as the ghost kept hitting unlock.

(F/N)'s face was only inches away from the killer's, the thin glass is the only thing separating them.  She took in a shaky breath when suddenly the ghost dropped out of view below the window. "Come on you asshole!" She climbed to the center of the vehicle, listening hard for any sudden noises.

Then she heard the soft jingle of keys near the passenger's side door. She leaped on the lock, holding it down. The lock turns on the other side of the car but she jumped over and held it down, securing it locked.

(F/N) tried to keep herself calm but she was struggling. Her eyes moved forward as she tried to listen again but then her eyes spotted something in front of her. A police radio. Without hesitation, she grabbed the mouthpiece and hits the switch. "Hello!? I need help! Please! I'm at Stu Macher's house on Turner Lane. Please, the killer is here and he's attacking us!"

She didn't notice that behind her the killer, who was climbing through the tailgate door of the jeep, was slowly crawling in behind her. Suddenly, the ghost reached forward and grabbed her shoulder, the grip eerily close to her neck. She turned around and punched the killer in the face, and when the killer reeled back in shock she threw herself forward and barreled out of the car.

She fell out of the vehicle and hit the floor, but she quickly picked herself up. (F/N) turned around and tried to spot the killer but saw no one.

      The killer had disappeared.

(F/N) took a few steps back in confusion, her eyes raking the entire yard for any sight of the ghost, but she found no one. A sudden thought hit her. Dewey's body lay on the front porch. Thinking quickly the girl rushed to the porch and reached down, taking the man's pistol out of his holster, making sure it had ammo before she heard her name get called.

"(F/N)!" The girl turned to see Randy hurrying over to her, limping. He didn't look like how she last left him; he looked like he hadn't drunk a single beer in the night. But what if he was just pretending to be drunk? No, she saw him drinking. But, still...she better be more safe than sorry.

"Jesus, (F/N)." Randy said as he got to the steps of the house, "We have got to get out of here."

(F/N) raised the gun, pointing it at Randy before he could climb onto the steps, "Don't get any closer."

Randy looked desperate, he shook his headlight and argued, "Don't shoot. It's me, (F/N)."

    (F/N) straightened her lips. It hurt to see her friend like this, her heart felt like it was gonna give up from how fast it was beating, but she didn't move the gun, "Billy's dead. I saw it." She stuttered, tears beginning to poke at her eyes, "I-I don't know who to trust anymore."

"Listen to me, (F/N)." He tried, taking a small step forward, "I found Tatum. She's dead, she's been killed and...I think Stu did it." He takes a step forward when suddenly another voice spoke up,

"Don't believe him, babe!" The girl recognized the voice and saw Stu rushing up the walk in a similar manner that Randy did, except Stu wasn't limping. Stu pointed at Randy accusingly, "He's lying. He killed Tatum. And Billy." Stu continued to creep closer.

(F/N) noticed how he was getting closer, "Stay over there." She turned the barrel of the gun towards Stu, who had an offended expression flash over his face before it went back to being worried.

Stu added, "His movie nut mind has snapped, (F/N). He's gone, psycho."

Randy shook his head, "Don't listen to him! It's him. He's the killer."

(F/N) looked between the two. Who should she believe? The question drills it into her head as she pointed the gun towards the middle. Which is it? She can't decide and it's making her chest feel tight.

"Come on, (F/N)." Stu ordered, taking a step towards her, "Give me the gun."

Randy objected immediately, "No, (F/N), don't!"

Both of the boys started towards her, moving slowly so as to not make her accidentally pull the trigger on them.

"I'm not taking any chances," (F/N) said as she backed away, "you two figure that shit out yourselves!"

And with that, the girl rushed into the house and slammed the door shut in their faces, hastily locking it behind her before either could get in.






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AUTHORS NOTE !

Double update day.

Posted: March 16, 2023
Rewrite: July 9, 2023
Words: 1195
Edited: ✘︎

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