Chapter 3

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"You sure I can stay over? My parents won't be back til Sunday."

The sun was sinking toward the horizon, creating a pretty mix of orange colours in the sky. It was well past afternoon and you were on the phone with your friend, Tatum.

"No prob. I'll pick you up after practice," Tatum's voice came through the other end of the phone. "I'll be there by seven. Later."

"See ya, Tate."

You hung up, taking a seat at your computer to boot it up. You sat in front of it just staring at the blue screen, your own reflection staring back at you.

Sometime later you descended the stairs, your arms carrying a change of clothes, make up, a toothbrush and other things.

You wanted to stay over at Tatum's because... Well... With the recent murders, you didn't want to stay alone in the house.

Childish, right?

Your parents agreed straight away. They sounded relieved when you told them of your plans.

You openes the hall closet and pulled a small overnight bag from the top shelf. Moving into the spacious living room you loaded it up, before plopping down on the sofa and hitting the TV remote, the face of a news reporter fading in straight away.

'The entire nation was shocked by the teen murders in North Carolina that just happened yesterday...'

You pressed a button, switching channels.

'The State Bureau of Investigation has joined forces with local authorities to help catch what the Governor has called the most heinous...'

You turned the TV back off, letting your head plop down on the cushion. Maybe you could watch a creepy movie.

Sure, it was a completely odd decision considering you were going to crash at Tatum's because you were scared but hey, it would keep your mind occupied until she arrived.

Your eyes went to the clock on the end table. 5:45 PM. You sighed and got up to find a random tape to play and put it in, turning the TV back on.

You must of fallen asleep somewhere during the movie because when you pried your eyes back open, the clock read 7:20 PM.

As if on cue, the portable phone next to you rang. You leaped up and grabbed it, Tatum's voice echoing through once again.

"Practice ran late. I'm on my way."

"It's past seven," you pointed out bluntly.

"Don't worry. Casey and Steve didn't bite it til way after ten."

You rolled your eyes. "I'm not worried, hush!"

"Whatever you say, (Y/N). Bye bye." She hung up the phone and you intended on placing it back down but it immediately rang again while still sitting in your hand.

"Tatum?" You asked, fully expecting it to be her but it wasn't. A distorted, gruff male voice was the one to reply.

"Hello."

"Hi. Who is this?"

"I could ask you the same thing."

You narrowed your eyes both at the avoidance of your question, and the fact that the voice was definitely not one you were familiar with. "I'm not playing that game, mister. You called me."

You stared blankly at the TV screen in front of you that was displaying a rather nasty kill, the poor girl having her head shoved into a pitchfork.

There was a lasting silence and for some time, all you heard was static.

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