𝐒𝐂𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐌 - 𝐒𝐏𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄𝐑 𝐑𝐄𝐈𝐃

𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠.

The creaking of the house seemed more sinister, it was as if the old wooden bones were laying in wait, anticipating the fear and panic that permeated the air and seeped into the walls.

Esther couldn't seem to move from the living-room doorway, the phone call from Spencer and the radio silence from Regan left her vision swimming. She sucked in a breath, the cold air rattling her lungs and puts one shaky foot in front of the other.

She staggered through the hallway, drunk on fear – if Regan was still alive Esther would need to be stronger than this to get them both out of there. She prayed Regan was still alive.

When she neared the end of the hallway, she supposed she had come to her first crossroads in her 'save Regan' mission – she could either carry on straight and into the kitchen where she willed that she had locked the backdoor (she hoped that of she willed it hard enough it would somehow manifEst its way into being true), or she could open the door under the stairs on the right and take a chance in the dark basement.

Esther paused for a moment, using the suffocating silence to listen for any indication of where Regan, or the killers, may be. The house remained silent though, only the howling wind outside made any noise; and so, Esther decided that the basement was probably the most likely place for Regan to be, it did have a wine cellar after all.

She had just about grasped the doorknob and begun to turn it when an ear-piercing scream shattered the silence that had previously blanketed Esther's home. It had come from down the dark stairs.

Esther didn't give herself time to think, she yanked the door the rest of the way open and ran down the stairs with her heart beating out of her chest.

A scream tore through Esther's chest, funnelling its way through her throat and out her mouth.

vomit spewed from her lips and splashed against the concrete floor and back on to her worn converse was now mixing with the dark blood. Regan's blood.

Esther could hardly stand the sight that greeted her, but the memory of it seemed to be tattooed on to the insides of her eyelids. Regan was on the ground, a deep slash to her stomach had split the layers of skin, tissue and muscle and left her insides spilling out on to the outside. Her eyes remained open, mouth half parted and her once bright blonde hair was now quickly staining a sickly shade of pink.

Esther felt the tears pool in her eyes as the flickered around the room, landing on the smashed wine bottle near the wall and the ghoulish mask that had been left on the ground.

Fear filled her system once again; she could feel her heart skipping like a rabbit as she looked more frantically around the room. The scene in front of her was the perfect crime scene, all that was missing was the perpetrator.

"Esther." The familiar voice sent chills running down her back.

She spun around to face him as he slinked out of the shadows, a black cloth reminiscent of shawl encapsulated him – consuming his form in the darkness that Esther would presume also encapsulated his very being.

"What have you done?" Esther croaked; voice hoarse from the screams she had let out at the sight of Regan's corpse. Tears still gathered in her eyes.

"Nothing you haven't thought of." Jack Atkins drawled out, a smirk pulling at his thin lips as he stepped even closer to Esther.

She stepped backwards, her back to the stairs as she kept her eyes locked on his imposing form.

Esther wasn't stupid, she knew that she couldn't fight Jack. He was easily a foot taller than hear and probably a hundred pounds heavier, she knew the immediate outcome would be her death.

"You were friends with them!" she shouted, the tears now spilling freely as she continued to step backwards, "You were friends and you murdered them!" her voice broke.

"Come on Esther don't be so dull. They were bitches in high-school, bitches and sons of bitches and they deserved it!" an angry red flush seemed to crawl up the small amount of neck that the shawl exposed.

Jack continued to stalk forward but his eyes had turns soft in a way that Esther didn't quite understand. She could feel the tears still making their journey down her cheeks, leaving salty trails behind them – she sniffed her nose as Jack reached his hand out to her, rubbing her tears away with his thumb as he rested his hand against her cheek.

"It's all just a scary movie, Es. Life is all just one big scary movie and they had the plot needed them to die." Jack explained in a soft voice, still resting his hand on Esther's face, as if he really expected her to lean into it.

"That's not true." Esther whispered, closing her eyes as if she could Escape from this nightmare.

"You know it is." He replied, snatching his hand away from her face.

Esther's eyEs shot wide open at his sudden movements, she felt like a deer that was being stalked – like a prey animal that's easily startled. She was the prey and he was the hunter.

She took a step backwards on to the stairs, her hand clutching at the thin wooden railing – holding on so tight that her knuckles turned white and she was sure splinters had embedded themselvEs permantley into her fingertips.

"You're a sick mother-fucker who peaked in high-school film studies." She spat before turning on her heel and sprinter up the stairs, she could hear her blood racing in her ears as she tried to outrun death.

"Don't you wanna be my final girl!" Jacks shout seemed to shake her homes old bones and it made Esther's fingers tremble as she tried to open the basement door from where it must have swung shut behind her.

Esther wasn't gonna let herself be reduced to some horror movie archetype, she wasn't going to be anything but the director - this was her shitty B-roll movie now and Jack was gonna be fucking sorry.