Page 76 of Your Masked Haunting

A heavy boot hits the deck, and I have to clench my jaw to stop my teeth from chattering. No. No. No. I’m done. I’m done.

GHOSTFACE!!

THERE, I USED IT. NOW PLEASE STOP

Tears well in my eyes as I study my screen, willing his message to appear. A phone call, anything. But he doesn’t answer, so I start calling him again, desperate for this all to end.

One, two, three, four calls later, and the reality of the situation is staring me dead in the eyes, one I can no longer ignore.

Please stop

Oh my God

Someone’s here

Outside, walking across the deck toward the stairs

I call him three more times, the voicemail announcement that follows each one bringing a new layer of fear. A tear rolls down my cheek, leaving a freezing trail from the brisk air. I’m starting to worry that my heart might explode and break all of my ribs.

Someone knew where my room was and how to access it, and either they forgot to close it and go on about their day or this was all part of their plan.

It’s not you, is it?

Casper, please answer me

Another heavy step clomps toward the stairs, and an uncontrollable whispered shriek leaves me.

Shut up! Shut the hell up!

I’m going to call the police if you don’t stop

I’m so serious

This isn’t a joke anymore!

I’ll try him one more time, and then I’ll call the cops. That’s final. But whoever’s on the porch strides forward with each unanswered ring.

They clear their throat, wet and thick. My stomach churns again, bile hitting the back of my mouth. I’m certain without a shred of doubt that whoever it is, it’s not Casper.

One more try, baby. Please pick up the phone. I press Call and wait, lifting my phone to my ear.

But any ounce of hope I have left dissipates from my body when his voice doesn’t appear on the other end.

I tuck myself tighter to the porch, crouching down so I’m further out of view. I can peek through the lattice, seeing the bottom of the stairs.

His boots slap against the wood, one by one, as he descends all the way to the paved pathway. The steps fall silent as they shift to the grass to the left, closer to me. All I can see are black boots and the bottoms of his blue jeans, and it’s all I need for pure terror to sink into my bones.

Who is this? Why the fuck is he following me?

Swiping out of my phone, I go to text Casper, possibly the last message before this man will breach the edge of the lattice. I should run. I’m fast and slippery. I’d be able to evade him.

But it’s like my feet are cemented in place, my body frozen, aside from the tears streaming down my cheeks. There are a thousand things I want to say to Casper right now. Confessions, declarations, everything in between. But the length of the porch is running out, as is my time to send this.

Cas, please hurry.

I go to Recents instead of calling 911, like the dumb bitch I am. But some part of me thinks that Casper will get to me before the police will. That he’ll bend time and space to keep me safe.

My thumb hovers over his name, but I lock up as I hear the man clear his throat. But this time, it’s not shielded by the porch or the stairs. It’s clear as day … because he's standing thirty feet in front of me, half of his broad shoulders illuminated from one of the backyard lampposts, the other half in total darkness.