Prologue
Jeremy
Are they seriously messing with me? I ask myself as I realize I’ll have to wait another five minutes before the bus even leaves its first stop.
Which means I’ll be standing here for another twenty minutes before it gets to me, I think, nervously tapping my left foot against the hard asphalt.
Every few minutes, I glance down at my phone, almost expecting it to magically display a message saying, We’re sorry. Our mistake. Your bus will be arriving shortly! But of course it never does. This city, despite everyone wanting to live here, has an absolutely ridiculous public transportation system.
Sure, I could’ve gotten my driver’s license by now and stopped taking the bus altogether. My dad would’ve bought me a Porsche, and I’d probably have had a girlfriend ages ago.
That’s exactly what my father would say if he were standing here with me right now.
Thank God he isn’t.
At least he can’t lecture me about how I’m “not man enough” because I don’t have a driver’s license.
I don’t need one anyway, I mutter under my breath.
Suddenly, a few heavy raindrops land on my shoulders.
I roll my eyes.
Fantastic. Just what I needed. As if this situation wasn’t pathetic enough already.
The growing anxiety makes every minute feel longer as I wait for the bus, wondering what could possibly happen in just twenty minutes.
At first, I convince myself that nothing will happen. That’s the most likely outcome.
But before long, my thoughts wander into the familiar maze of What if…?
As the rain grows heavier, an uncomfortable sense of claustrophobia settles over me.
I’ve never liked being alone.
Especially not in the dark.
Then again…
Who does?
I check my phone again.
4:50 PM.
Fifteen more minutes.
Almost there, I tell myself, trying to force my thoughts back toward reason.
Seriously… what could possibly happen to me?
I smirk at my own paranoia.
It’s just the rain.
I’ve always hated rain.
Without warning, my phone vibrates in my hand, making me jump.
I glance at the screen.
Unknown Number.
I frown.
Yeah, no way I’m stupid enough to answer that.
I’m just about to decline the call when I suddenly remember this is my new phone.
I probably never saved all my old contacts.
Maybe it isn’t a stranger after all.
I hesitate for another few seconds.
Come on, Jeremy. If it really is some random person, just hang up. Don’t be a coward.
I press the green button and lift the phone to my ear.
The cold glass brushes against my warm skin, sending an involuntary shiver through my body.
“Hello?” I say, doing my best to sound calm and confident.
Although…
Something tells me this conversation isn’t going to end well.
Call it a sixth sense.
“Hello, Jeremy.”
The voice on the other end is cold.
Emotionless.
Every muscle in my body tightens.
I swallow hard.
“Who’s this?” I manage to ask.
“You really have no idea, Jeremy?”
The voice sounds metallic.
It’s probably a voice changer, I think.
I actually built something like that years ago…
Back when I was in seventh grade.
I’m a senior now, so I’ve forgotten most of what I learned back then.
But not this.
“I’m afraid I don’t,” I admit.
“Would you like to introduce yourself?”
The caller laughs.
A quiet, unsettling laugh.
“Oh… no.”
“Why not?”
“Because all I need from you is to play a game, Jeremy.”
My body freezes.
A moment later, I chuckle.
The sound echoes through the empty bus stop.
“What’s so funny?” the caller asks.
“It’s just… a little strange,” I admit.
“You want to play a game?”
“So?”
“What are we playing? Hide-and-seek?”
I answer sarcastically.
To my surprise, the caller laughs again.
For some reason…
I’m starting to find him strangely interesting.
The uneasy feeling I’d had begins to fade.
“You’re quite the comedian,” the voice replies in the same flat tone.
“But no.
Not hide-and-seek.
Not this time.
We’re going to play something else.”
Even through the electronic distortion, the voice somehow sounds darker.
More dangerous.
I fail to notice the change.
I’m too focused on the word game.
“So…”
“What game?”
The caller falls silent for a moment.
Then, at last, he speaks.
“We’re going to play a game called The Maniac Among Us.”
Every trace of amusement vanishes from my face.
“W… what did you just say?”
“The Maniac Among Us. That’s the name of our game.”
He repeats it as casually as if he were talking about the weather.
A wave of cold sweeps through me.
How…?
How could he possibly know about that game?
No.
That’s impossible.
Only my friends and I know about it…
Well…
A few other people do, but…
“Jeremy?”
His icy voice yanks me back to reality.
I clear my throat before answering.
“Y-yeah.”
“I’m still here.”
“But… can I ask you something?”
“Of course.”
“How do you know about that game?”
Silence.
Neither of us says a word.
Seconds stretch into what feels like minutes.
For a moment, I wonder if he’s hung up.
Then his voice returns.
Flat.
Cold.
“Emma.”
Just one word.
One name.
And that’s all it takes.
The memories crash into me like a tidal wave.
Everything.
Every single thing connected to her.
“Oh…”
“My God…”
The words barely escape my lips.
“Yes, Jeremy.”
“I’m talking about Emma.”
“N-no…”
“That can’t be…”
The bus is the last thing on my mind now.
Fear floods every corner of my thoughts.
“B-but…”
“Emma…”
“That’s right,” he interrupts.
“But the two of you were wrong about one thing.”
“You told her no one would ever remember her.”
A brief pause.
“I do.”
“I remember everything.”
“And that’s why, my dear Jeremy…”
“You have to pay for what you did to her.”
My knees begin to buckle.
“But…”
“It wasn’t just me.”
“What about the others?”
A cold laugh crackles through the speaker.
“They’ll get what they deserve too.”
“…Just in a different way.”
“A different way?”
“What do you mean?”
He ignores the question completely.
“Jeremy…”
“If I were you, I’d start running.”
“Run away from that cursed bus stop.”
“Because, in case you haven’t noticed…”
“Your bus hasn’t moved an inch.”
The line goes dead.
For several moments I remain frozen in place, unable to process what just happened.
Your bus hasn’t moved an inch.
Those words echo inside my head.
With trembling hands, I open the transit app.
The moment the map loads, my stomach drops.
He was telling the truth.
The bus hasn’t moved.
Damn it…
It’s broken down.
God… what am I supposed to do now?
My breathing grows shallow.
I can feel a panic attack creeping in.
I race through every possible option until only one remains.
Call Mom.
I open my contacts, searching frantically for her number.
Before I can press it…
My phone buzzes again.
Another message.
From the same unknown number.
“Oh, come on…” I whisper.
I tap the notification.
It’s a photograph.
Someone is standing in the center of the frame.
I zoom in.
My blood freezes.
It’s me.
My heart sinks straight into my stomach.
I spin around, scanning every direction.
Nothing.
No one.
Another message appears.
Have you still not figured out that you should’ve gotten the hell out of there already?
Yes.
I get it now.
Without another thought, I turn toward the nearest shopping center and begin walking as fast as I can.
Strangely enough…
I feel like I’ve stepped into a horror movie.
The entire bus stop is deserted.
Not a single soul in sight.
I turn to leave.
Stab.
The blade tears into my flesh.
Straight through skin.
Into muscle.
I try to scream.
Nothing comes out.
My legs give way beneath me, and I collapse onto my knees.
The taste of iron floods my mouth.
Blood.
I cough violently before forcing myself to look up.
Standing over me is a man wearing a brightly colored clown costume.
It’s ripped in several places.
Splattered with fake blood.
His mask is made from scorched artificial human skin, cracked and peeling away in strips.
He rips the knife back out.
Agony explodes through my body.
Only then does the scream finally escape my throat.
crash onto the rain-soaked pavement.
The back of my head slams against the unforgiving asphalt.
My phone skids somewhere into the darkness.
Warm blood quickly soaks through my sweater.
Gritting my teeth, I force my head up just enough to look at the wound.
“Oh, God…”
Blood is pouring from it.
Not dripping.
Pouring.
I lift my eyes to the man standing over me.
He watches me in complete silence, gripping a knife in his right hand.
Its razor-sharp blade is coated with my blood.
“W-what…”
“…do you want?” I gasp, desperately trying to crawl away from him.
A low, sinister chuckle escapes behind the mask.
“What do I want?”
He repeats my question as he slowly walks toward me.
It only takes a few steps before he’s standing over me again.
He crouches beside me.
Without warning, he grabs a fistful of my hair and yanks my head upward until I’m staring directly into the grotesque face of his mask.
“I want you dead, Jeremy.”
His voice is barely more than a whisper.
Then he lets go.
The knife rises into the air.
I throw every ounce of strength I have left into trying to roll away.
It’s hopeless.
The blade plunges into my ribs.
I scream.
Again.
Then another stab.
And another.
And another.
Each strike tears another piece of life out of me.
Within seconds, I can feel my body growing colder.
The blood keeps flowing.
Too much.
Far too much.
My vision begins to blur.
Darkness creeps in around the edges.
The clown slowly rises to his feet before kneeling beside my face once more.
“This…”
He tilts his head.
“…is what happens when you have no idea what one stupid childhood game can do to someone else’s life.”
For the last time…
He raises the knife above his head.
The steel catches the faint glow of the streetlights.
For a heartbeat…
It’s the only thing I can still see.
He waits.
Almost as if he wants me to understand exactly what’s about to happen.
Then…
He drives the blade straight into my face.
