Prologue
April checked the locks on her front door again.
Not that she really needed to. The place was secure from top to bottom. The front door was checked for the third time around 9:30 PM. And maybe she seemed a little insane for checking the locks here and in the back when she knew they were fine. Everything was fine. Perfectly so.
Which was exactly why she needed to check again.
It was April’s first time alone at home. Yeah, being seventeen and finally having the house to yourself for the first time in your life seemed pretty surprising. Honestly, she would have asked for an earlier age to be able to watch the house alone. Her parents, Julia and Peter, didn’t trust her in the beginning. Well, they had some trust in her. They were just concerned about having their teenage daughter alone in their gigantic house. Who knew what kids were up to these days? It wasn’t like she was the type of person to throw parties or have people over to do stupid things. April Santiago was a good girl, to say the least. She always made sure she did her work at school, got home on time, and went to bed on time. She kept a steady routine in her life, one that she didn’t break over the course of middle school and high school. She never smoked. Never drank. Maybe people at school saw her as a little stuck-up, but she would rather be that way than anything else.
In reality, April just wanted a simple life. She was sure that was what everyone really wanted in the end.
She parted from the door and breathed in. Her parents said that they wouldn’t be home until Monday morning. She basically had the house to herself the entire weekend. And she was only planning to stay up those nights, watch movies, maybe call a friend or two. Simple.
A phone was ringing. The landline. April nearly jumped out of her skin at the obnoxious noise down the hall from her living room. It was probably her parents. They said that they were going to call her from time to time, not emphasizing when. She sighed and walked toward the phone, which was situated in the kitchen. April answered without any hesitation, “Hello?”
“April, honey?” It was Julia, her mother.
“You know, mom, there’s a thing called a cell phone. The rectangular device you bought me two years ago? Yeah, usually people call on those phones.” April took a second to glare at the landline in her hand. “This thing makes me feel like we stepped back a few freakin’ decades.”
“Honey, we have the landline for emergencies.”
“What emergencies? Nothing really happens around here besides the occasional trashing of some abandoned houses on the other side of town.”
Her mother clicked her tongue on the other side of the phone. “Things do happen around Lakeview, sweetheart. We keep the phones because of the trashing and the break-ins.” There was shuffling in the background. “I’ve told you about the break-ins this past week, April. Were you even listening to me?”
Oh, yes. The break-ins. A new town thing lately. There had been reported break-ins since last Friday. Someone had been stealing things, but. . .
“A girl was murdered, April,” her mother said quietly.
Faith Waller. Seventeen and murdered. The scene was horrific, her dad told her. Peter Santiago, a police officer, was the first to get there at Faith’s house. The guy, whoever he was, broke in through the back. Faith was alone at home that night, doing homework. Her boyfriend was supposed to come over soon, and she was waiting for him. She thought that she heard him trying to get in, and when she checked, it all went downhill. Faith was first stabbed in the stomach as the assailant found her in her kitchen. She managed to escape with blood trickling down to her legs. She slipped and hit the floor that led into her dining room. The guy got on top of her and stabbed her twenty-four times in the chest. She tried fighting back; there were defensive wounds on her arms and cuts through her hands. She died later on in the night around 11 PM. The assailant only took Faith’s golden heart necklace. He left Faith’s body there for her boyfriend to find only a few minutes later. Blood splattered against the dining room floors and walls, and with the myriad of stab wounds, Faith’s boyfriend didn’t know what to do at that moment. Finding the love of your life on the ground stabbed to death was not expected. It was rare, especially in Lakeview.
“I know, mom,” April responded, looking at her surroundings. She should check the back door again. “Dad was there. He told us about it afterwards. We talked about it at school too.”
“She’s not the only one, honey. There are others.”
Eliza Henderson. Sienna Hudson. Elaina Matthews. Callie Young. Anna May Taylor. Faith wasn’t the only one, she knew that.
“Please be careful, honey. Check the doors. The security cameras are on. We’ll call every hour or so, alright?”
“Mom, I don’t need to be called all the time,” April argued. “I’m fine. I’ve checked the doors. I’m totally fine, you can trust me.”
“No friends over,” Julia reminded her.
“No parties, no boys, no one besides me in the house. Yeah, yeah, I know.”
“And keep the phone next to you.”
“Which one?”
“The one in your hand, silly. I’ll see you Monday morning, alright?”
“Yeah, mom. I’ll hear from you in a bit, I’m guessing.”
She could already tell her mother was smiling on the other side. “Maybe, honey.”
Then . . . dial tone.
April checked the back door once more. Still locked. Still safe. She headed back to the kitchen to grab a soda from the fridge and decided that a movie would ease her nerves. When she got to her living room, another check to the front door, she sat down on the couch adjacent to the tv. April couldn’t find much on. Nothing that appealed to her taste, really. Too much rom-com. Too much sadness. The only thing she could find was a cheesy slasher film.
That certainly wasn’t helping the feeling knotting in her stomach right now.
She let the movie play in the background as she drank the rest of her soda and fished out her own phone from her pocket. April scrolled through Instagram for a while before getting bored of it. Then she moved onto Twitter before she got bored with it too. Then onto Facebook and. . . she got bored with that as well. Letting out a groan, she sent out a text to her best friend, Rebecca, and hoped she would get one back. She just needed something to distract her from her thoughts.
U up? April sent.
A moment later, her phone buzzed in her hands.
Rebecca: Maybe. Do you need something?
Yes. April thought about this for a minute. Can I call you?
Aw, miss my voice already?
April rolled her eyes. Yes, and I just need someone to talk to.
Rebecca called a second later, and April picked up just the same.
“I really thought you weren’t going to call,” April said. “You don’t like calls.”
“Well, when my bestie needs me, I’m gonna call. And besides, you said you missed my voice. So of course I’m gonna come running to the first person who says that to me.”
April laughed. Good ol’ Rebecca.
“Is something wrong, though? You never really ask me to call.”
The concern in Rebecca’s voice was heavy. April chewed at her bottom lip. “Oh, well, sort of? I don’t know. It’ll sound stupid, Becca.”
“It’s not going to sound stupid,” Rebecca said. “Spill.”
“I got off the phone with my mom earlier. She’s just worried about me being home alone, you know?” April stared at the landline, which was next to her on the armrest. “She brought up the break-ins. You know the ones. She brought up Faith Waller.”
She could hear Rebecca sniffle on the other end, then pause.
“I just. . . it’s like, the worst time to bring that up. Faith was home alone when she was murdered. All of those other girls were too.”
“That doesn’t mean it’ll happen to you too, April.”
“But this is like my first time being left home alone.” April stood up from the couch and looked at the front door. “And, okay, I’ll admit that I’m scared. After what my dad told me about Faith, all I have been thinking about was how the guy broke in and stabbed her that many times. What kind of person would do that to someone?”
“A maniac, that’s who.”
“Exactly, and I’m not okay with the idea of this guy breaking into houses and killing teenage girls home alone,” April said. “My mom putting that thought in my head made me feel worse than I already do.”
“Do you want me to come over? I can keep you company,” Rebecca offered.
“I can’t have anyone over,” April said. “My mom would kill me and not let me be in the house alone anymore.”
“It wouldn’t be so bad as long as I don’t leave anything there.”
“They have cameras,” April said.
Rebecca groaned. “Turn off the cameras then. It’s not that hard, is it?”
“Well . . . I just don’t want my parents to be mad at me. If I turn off the camera, they’ll ask and I won’t have an excuse. And then they won’t trust me anymore.”
“Ugh, fine. I’ll let you stay home alone and let the Lakeview Killer come after you.”
“Don’t say that Becca! Oh my god.” Her heart seized up. “That’s the last thing I want to think about.”
April gripped her phone as she walked away from the living room to one of the windows in the hall. Peeking through the blinds, she was met with a street only lit by the streetlight a few steps away. The houses around hers were dark. People were most likely asleep by now or starting to get ready for bed. The reminder of neighbors being so close by made her relax a little. If something were to happen, she could scream and someone would be there to help. Things were perfectly okay.
A sudden burst of ringing came from the living room, and April screamed.
“April? April! What’s wrong? What happened? Oh my god, don’t tell me it’s—“
The landline. The goddamn landline.
“I—everything is. . . fine,” April answered with a shaky voice. “Its, uh, fuck, it’s the landline.”
She went to retrieve it, already thinking of ways to scold her mother for scaring her.
“Don’t scream into the phone like that!” Her friend hissed. “I thought you were, like, getting stabbed to death.”
April read the pixelated word on the small screen: Unknown Caller.
“Who is it?”
Rebecca took the words right out of April’s mouth.
“I don’t know,” she said. “It says unknown caller.”
“Maybe it’s your mom?”
“No, it’ll show up as her number.”
April stared at the ringing landline, hoping that it, or whoever it was, would go away soon.
“Maybe it’s the killer,” Rebecca teased.
“Becca!”
“It’s a jooooke. . .”
She glared as if her friend was really there to see it. “That’s not funny.”
“Okay, okay, that wasn’t funny. You’re right. It was a shitty joke.”
The ringing stopped. April almost felt like sighing in relief.
“Seriously, this isn’t—”
It began again. The same caller. Her breath hitched in her throat.
“Unless it’s someone else?” Rebecca questioned. “I can hear it by the way. Maybe it’s someone you know.”
“I doubt that anyone knows I have a landline,” April responded.
“People can check a phone book,” Rebecca said. “Do people still use those things?”
“What are you hinting at? Are you just fucking with me, Becca?”
“God, no. What kind of friend would I be?” she chuckled. “What I am saying is, it might just be someone you know. Someone from school. Someone from, you know, English and U.S. history?”
“Becca. . .”
“And that someone being perhaps Seth Gibson?”
She was staring down at the landline as her face started to heat up. “You did not.”
“Maybe I did, maybe I didn’t,” her friend said. “But I would just answer the phone if I were you. I’m sure leaving him like that would possibly ruin your chances with him.”
“Yeah, okay. Thanks, Becca. I’ll call you later.”
When she hung up, she waited a second before answering the landline. There was brief silence, someone breathing on the other ending. Maybe he was just as nervous as she was. But how could he be? Someone as gorgeous as Seth Gibson didn’t need to be nervous. He was good at talking, always had been. But that was only during class with people around them. Cat got your tongue, or however the saying went. April was feeling the same way.
“Seth?” she asked, finally breaking the silence.
A low grumble came from his end. “April?” his voice was barely audible. Maybe it was the connection. The receiver itself. His voice was a little distorted, but she could get used to it.
“Hey, yeah, it’s . . . April.” She didn’t know where she was going with this. She was smiling too wide and she was sure he would find her the least bit crazy for smiling too much. “Um, hi.”
He laughed and she loved the sound of it on the other end. “Hi,” he repeated. “I, uh, don’t really know what to say.”
Thank God, because she didn’t either.
“Same here,” April said. She began down the hall to the kitchen once more. “I didn’t think that we would be talking like this out of school.”
“Yeah, well, I figured it would eventually happen.” He cleared his throat, as if that would fix the distortion in the receiver. “I mean, I wanted it to. I just. . . couldn’t really find the right moment to ask you.”
“I get that,” she said. “But if you asked, I would have given you my cell number. I think that would’ve been easier, right? Maybe start off with texting before calling.” April wanted to laugh. “Instead you went out of your way to get my house phone number from Rebecca. And thankfully you called tonight when my parents aren’t home, so I guess you dodged a bullet there.”
“That would have been a better idea, asking for your cell phone number instead of this one.” He was cursing under his breath. A small mistake. A funny one at that. “But yes, I did go out of my way to ask your friend for your house number. I still got around to talking to you, didn’t I? I think I should be thanked for that.”
“Maybe,” she bantered. “What do you have in mind?”
“Hmm, lemme think. . .” he said, low, dark. “You’re home alone?”
“Ha, yeah. My parents are out of town for the weekend. I’ve got the place to myself.”
There was something on his end. He was walking, had to be. It was close to that. Him and his shallow breathing. “That’s interesting. The whole house to yourself on the weekend.”
“I can’t have anyone over,” she told him, teasing slightly.
“What are you, a mind reader?”
April giggled.
“So, I guess you’ve already answered my question. I can’t come over then?”
“Well, I don’t know. You really can’t because of my parents, but. . .”
“Come on, we know each other pretty well, April,” Seth said. “It’s not like anything would really happen, right?”
She was only hoping that something would. Being close for so long formed a myriad of feelings in her chest whenever she saw him.
“We just have to find out for ourselves,” she replied.
“Aren’t we bold tonight?” He had to be smirking.
“Feeling like it, yeah.” April had the landline pressed between her shoulder and ear, and took out her cell, quickly going to the cameras her parents installed not too long ago. “You can come over for a little bit. I have to turn off the cameras real quick so I can sneak you in.” She paused, staring at the screen. “You’re here already?”
He spoke, but she couldn’t make out what he was saying.
“Seth, uh, I can’t—you’re breaking up—”
She zoomed in further, trying to see the image better. Taking her eyes away from the screen, April walked toward the back window near the staircase leading up to her bedroom. She looked out and couldn’t see much. Though, on the camera it showed a tall figure near her garage. It looked like Seth. And he had been walking. It sounded like it. His house wasn’t too far from here anyway.
“Seth?” she asked once more.
“Yeah?” His voice came through, even more distorted than usual.
“You were breaking up there for a little bit. I couldn’t hear you. Did you say something?”
“No,” he answered simply.
“Oh, um, okay,” she said. “I asked you a question before. Did you hear what I said?”
He was silent. She took that as a no.
“You’re here already?” April reiterated. “I didn’t think you’d be here so soon. It sounded like you were walking. But I didn’t really give you the okay to come into my backyard.” She checked her phone again. There was no one. “Where did you go?”
“Turn off your cameras, April,” he said.
“What?”
“Turn them off,” Seth demanded.
“I—”
“We don’t want to get caught by your parents, right? Turn the cameras off. I hid behind the garage for you.”
April did what she was told. She placed her cell on the windowsill and stared out into the dark abyss that was her backyard. “You can get in, right? You can see? It’s kind of dark out there.”
“Of course I can.”
“Do you want me to turn on the light for you?”
A beat passed. He didn’t say anything. Instead, he just bellowed out a laugh. And she couldn’t help but awkwardly laugh along.
“What’s so funny?” she said.
“No, it’s just—you’re cute,” he told her. “You’ve always been so cute to me, April.”
If only Rebecca were here to listen to this.
“Really?”
“Yeah, ever since I first met you. You know where. At the library a block away from Lakeview High.”
She furrowed her eyebrows. “Are you mixing me up with someone else? That’s not where we first met, Seth.”
“Oh, I know,” he said. “I mean that was the first time I laid eyes on you. You caught my attention in the library. That’s where you spend most of your time whenever you want to get away from your overbearing parents.”
“Yeah, that’s. . .” She swallowed. “How did you know that?”
“Well, like I said, that’s where I first saw you.”
“No, I mean—I know that. But how did you know that’s the place I usually go to when I want to get away from my parents?”
“Oh . . . just a hunch. A bookworm like you would normally be there or at a bookstore.”
“Yeah.” She stepped away from the window. “You, um . . .”
“What?”
“I don’t really talk about my parents with you,” April pointed out. “Unless I have, and I just didn’t notice.”
“I’m sure you have once or twice.”
“I’ve only told Rebecca things about my parents.”
“Would you be upset if she slipped some information to me?”
Well, yes, but this was Seth.
“I hope you’re not upset.”
“No! No, I’m just a little surprised. I usually tell her those things in secret.” April paused. “Um, are you still back there?”
“Back where?”
“Back . . . in my backyard. Are you sure you don’t need a light?”
He was laughing forcefully. And, well. She couldn’t find this situation hilarious at all.
“You know what I love about you, April?”
She breathed in slowly. “What?”
“You’re always so concerned about other people and never about yourself. It’s unfortunate that such a cute girl like yourself would care about people who couldn’t give a fuck about you.”
Something turned in her stomach.
“You know, April, I’ve been watching you for a while. I think for a very long time, before we actually met at school,” Seth explained. “You’re always at the library around five o’clock on the dot. It’s just after you finish dinner with your parents, you pack your bag and head off. Then you stay there until closing, either on the blue, cozy couch in the corner reading a book or at the third table near the front desk finishing your calculus homework. You never really finish your calculus homework at school, which is pretty funny because you have all the time in the world to do it. I think you’re too caught up in other people.”
A twinge. She could feel it. April rushed back to her phone and to the security cameras. As she tried to turn the back on, the screen kept saying ERROR.
“You instead help other people with their homework or their problems and they cry to you and complain and all you do is soak it up like a sponge. Then you release what you think and you make them feel better. But they never really make you feel better, do they? Oh, April, come on,” he said. “You’re so much better than that! You just—oh, April. April, April.” He tsked. “You know the cameras aren’t going to work as much as you try to turn them on.”
“No no no no no no—”
“I already broke them, so what’s the point in trying?”
“No. No!”
“Jesus, April, you need to calm down.”
“NO! No, I’m not going to—where the fuck are you? This, this isn’t funny, Seth. If you’re playing some sick prank on me, it isn’t funny.”
“A prank?”
“Did Rebecca tell you to do this? Just to fuck with me? Just because she knows I’m alone and scared?”
“So quick to bash your bestie, April. Isn’t that kind of mean? Have some respect for the dead.”
She gripped the landline tightly. “What. . . ?”
“Oh, that was meant to be a surprise. Well—that’s on me,” he said. Her cell buzzed. “I’d check that if I were you.”
An image was sent by Rebecca. That was what the notification said.
“No. . .”
“April, you need to check the text message. It’s your bestie!”
She clicked on it. The image, full blown. She could see Rebecca on her canopy bed laying on her back. Dark red blood was splattered on her sheets, her pillows, even the walls behind her bed. Her beautiful green eyes were wide open as if she had seen a ghost or a killer at that. She had defensive wounds on her hands like Faith did. Rebecca fought for her life, but the deep cuts through her chest told another story.
Rebecca was dead. April was staring at a picture of her dead best friend.
She dropped the phone and stepped back gradually.
“No, no that can’t. . .”
“I would have bashed her head in, but she noticed me right away,” he said. “Turns out, her parents weren’t home. Her little brother wasn’t either. She screamed so much, yet it did so little. She put up a fight, your sweet Becca. But one slip and then . . . well, you get the picture. Get it? Picture?”
“Fuck. You. You psychotic asshole,” April seethed. Hot, fat tears rolled down her face. “I’m going to call the cops on your ass, Seth. And they’re going to fucking kill—”
“April, you really think they’re going to listen to you?”
“Of course they are. My dad’s a cop. So, yeah. They’re going to fucking listen.”
“Then, tell me, April,” he said. “How is your dad or any other police officer going to listen to you when you’re dead?”
Another text message. Another image. April walked over to look at her phone and saw herself in the window. Then another picture came through, this one much closer. “Such a cute girl. It’s upsetting that you’ll be dead soon. You won’t be able to report your own friend’s murder, not even your own.”
He sent her one last image, the back door. A sudden bang came from that direction, and she jumped. She had to get away. Get away. Get away.
“I’d start running if I were you.”
The call went dead. April booked it up the staircase as she heard a crack in the wooden door. She could hear his dark, maniacal laughter as he managed to break in. She had to find somewhere to hide. Her heart was beating too fast in her ears, and her hands were trembling. April could hear his footsteps down stairs, searching. There was time and she slipped underneath her bed and held her breath. The landline was still in her hands and she was thankful and smart enough to end the call right before she got up here. He was still downstairs, closer to the staircase, and she didn’t dare to move. Couldn’t. Because he was heading up. He was in her room.
She could see a pair of black combat boots in the doorway. Heavy, heavy footsteps. Slow enough to kill her right now, and she covered her mouth with her hand. She was beginning to wonder how fast she could get out of her room without getting caught.
The chances were slim to none, considering the guy was nearing her bed and checking every nook and cranny.
He was by the closet, pushing at her clothes. The hangers scraped against the rod holding them up. He cursed. It wasn’t until he was at the foot of her bed that she knew her chances were nonexistent.
His boots faced the bed for a second, but then he turned to her vanity right across from it. Could he see her? No. There wasn’t enough light in the room to see much. Barely enough to see his own reflection.
What was he doing? Was he waiting for her to make a move? Was he looking at himself? Was he going to leave or—
The landline rang in her hand; that loud and obnoxious sound.
“Found you,” he said.
He snatched her wrist and pulled her from under the bed. A cry came from April. The tight grip on her made her feel as if he could snap her wrist in half. She couldn’t see his face since it was covered up by a white face mask. But there was his smile, uncovered by a small slit. He was smiling all too wide.
April kicked him in the shin and he let her go. Quickly, she ran out the room and down the stairs, and she had to pick up the pace. He was behind her, too fast and too swift, and she felt like throwing up. Maybe hiding under the bed wasn’t the smartest idea. She had seen too many horror movies and that was how all the stupid girls died. Hiding under the bed. An obvious spot. An idiotic move.
He caught up to her, yanking her back by her hair. She howled as she was pulled down to the ground. In the kitchen, he was on top of her with a knife in his gloved hand, a passion for blood. Was Rebecca killed with that same knife? When did she die? Was it right after April hung up? Was she even talking to Rebecca then or was it some fucked-up accomplice that was talking to her? Had April stayed on the phone longer, maybe Rebecca would still be alive. Maybe April would have been the one killed and Rebecca would have been the one fighting for her life.
April struggled underneath him, and this wasn’t how she was going to die. She grabbed the knife as he drove it down. The slice of the blade on her palm stung, and blood trickled down her arm. He had impeccable strength, and she wondered if this was what Rebecca saw before her last moments.
She managed to jerk the knife to the left, making it miss her by mere inches, straight into the floor. April pushed him off, panting, scrambling for her cell. It was on the ground, near the staircase, the screen cracked. If she was smarter, she would have kept the landline. But it was in the heat of the moment and cell phones were so much more useful. And if this were a better situation April would be scolding her mother by now, but she knew that wasn’t going to happen. She would never give her mother a proper reason why they should have a landline. Dying might just be the only way how.
God, she couldn’t imagine what her mother might think. To see her own daughter killed in the safety of her home. Julia Santiago would leave Lakeview faster than the speed of light. Or she would stay forever, trying to find her daughter’s killer. Just like the rest of the mothers here in Lakeview.
“Please, please, please. . .” and she could hear him behind her, getting the knife unstuck. Shaky hands equal death and all she wanted was to live. April wanted to see her parents again. She wanted to get justice for Rebecca. She just wanted to live, and dialing three simple numbers couldn’t be that difficult. But having a large gushing gash across your palm caused problems. Just like having a guy twice your size come at you with a knife and the intent to kill you.
She managed to dial the number, and when she heard, “hello, nine-one-one, what’s your emergency?” she felt a spark of hope.
But it soon died as a sharp pain spread across her back. She let out a shriek. Blood spilled down her back as she fell to the ground. The phone flew from her hand and clattered elsewhere. He reached over to grab it for himself, and she turned to get the phone back. She felt as if her back was on fire.
“No!” April cried, and this—this couldn’t be it for her.
He pressed end and dropped the phone onto the floor. “You shouldn’t have done that, April,” he said. Lifting his boot over her phone, he stomped on it. Over and over again. Her ticket to freedom was gone.
“Please, please, you don’t have to do this,” she begged.
He tilted his head to the side and watched as she began to weep.
“I won’t tell anyone. I swear. I swear on my life I won’t tell anyone about Rebecca or this or anything! Just please, please don’t kill me.”
“You called the police,” he told her. “Of course you have to die.”
“No no no no no no.”
“It’ll be over soon enough, April.”
“No!”
He pushed her down onto her back. “It’ll only take a few seconds. The first couple of stabs will be painful, I can guarantee you that.”
“Please, please. I don’t want to die.”
“You should have thought of that before you called the police.”
“They, they won’t—”
“They’re going to show up, obviously. Have you not met a police officer that didn’t show up after a call like that?” He pressed the knife to her throat. “God, how stupid are you? You let in some guy and turn off your cameras for him. And you tell him that you’re alone. That no one is here to save you. Have you watched the news? Any movies? It’s basic slasher film knowledge, sweetheart. You don’t tell the fucking killer you’re alone at home and turn off the cameras for him.”
She latched onto his wrist and she could tell he was getting a kick out of this. He was.
“You’re going to die, and you know it, but you still fight.”
“I don’t want to die,” April said. “I’m not going to die tonight. I’m—I’m not.”
He nicked her. A little droplet of blood slid down from her neck. She dug her nails into arm, and he hissed. It was enough of a distraction to get him off of her again. She got up to her feet and stumbled down the hall and toward the living room. Splotches of red trailed after her, and he was right about her being so mindless. She shouldn’t have answered the phone. She shouldn’t have told him she was alone. She shouldn’t have turned off the cameras and let him in. This was how all stupid girls died in the first part of slasher films. The killer would let the girl go just so that she could reach her beacon of hope. And then—
And then.
She slipped. She crawled weakly toward the front door. Her hand went for it, but even then, she could only get so far. A grip on her ankle, and she was pulled back. Her skin scraped against the floor. He flipped her around and got on top of her once more. “Now, April,” he said, “enough with all the talking and running. Let’s get back to where we were, hm?”
“No,” was all that she could really say. “No.”
“You’ve put up a good fight,” he said.
“Seth, Seth, please.”
“Seth this and Seth that. Aren’t you tired of talking about him?”
Staring up at him, she saw as he held the blade above his head. One hand. White mask. All black clothing. Her mom. Her dad. What were they going to think when they would come back home to this?
“Anyway,” he continued, “you’ve put up a good fight. More than the others. I applaud you for that.”
April was crying silently. The pain in her back began to numb.
“But it could only go so far, April.”
He drove the knife down, square into her chest. A crack. A shout.
“It’s—unfortunate.”
He pulled the knife out slowly. A metallic taste flooded her mouth.
“But—” he drove the knife down again, “things like this usually happen to poor girls like yourself. Like Rebecca.”
She sputtered. Wheezed. Spat up thick, red liquid.
“You’re not the final girl, if that’s what you’re wondering. And neither was she—”
He stabbed her relentlessly. The blue t-shirt she was wearing before was now painted in crimson.
“You’ve made this an enjoyable night, April. I knew that you would ever since I first saw you at the library.” He paused, and she gasped for air. “Or at least the moment Seth saw you in the library. He just knew then, didn’t he?”
Just as he was about to thrust the knife into her chest again, she reached her hand up to him. His chest. Closer to his throat. “Y-you’re not. . .”
“I’m not . . . ?”
“You’re not . . . him.”
He stabbed her once more, the blade slicing through what she felt was her lung.
“Not . . . who?” he jeered.
Just a little more. She felt the mask at her bloody fingertips. With the energy April had left, she yanked it off, and the mask hit the ground beside them.
“You.”
He smiled down at her menacingly. His entertainment. “Oh, what a brave soul you are.” He chuckled. “Maybe if you made better actions, you could have been the final girl in this slasher film. Rebecca didn’t even take the chance to take this off and look at you! You know who I am, and if you live, you’ll be able to expose me. Tell the tale.”
Her hand plopped down. The blood, she could feel it on her palm. Her breathing shortened. Not so much strength left.
“But you’re not the final girl here, sadly. People usually root for girls like you, but they’ll know that April Santiago really went down with more of a fight than the others. She’ll be the one in the movie that really started all the killings.” He sighed. “You’ll be the one I remember the most, April. Just be happy about that.”
She felt herself scream, her throat raw. No one could hear. No one was going to hear. They weren’t going to save her, and he was right. She wasn’t the final girl. She was just the start.
He grabbed her by the hair, pulling her head back. Her exposed throat. April’s scream was drowned out by the sharp blade cutting right through, turning her scream into nothing but a hollow sound in the night.
