BRUTAL !

CHAPTER SEVEN:
"I'm your number one fan"

KITTY WAS SPRAWLED out on her bed, her laptop on her chest, googling everything she could find about the past Ghostfaces. She had never seen any of the Stab movies and was not interested in ever watching them, but now she was clicking through Wikipedia articles, depicting the plot of each movie in great detail.

She put the laptop down just when her phone started ringing and decided at the same time, to make herself some food in the kitchen. She accepted the call and opened the door to the hallway.

"Hello?"

Kitty froze in her step when she heard the voice. It wasn't like she had ever really heard it, but it was unmistakable. "Hello, Kitty." He said. "I've been dying to talk to you for such a long time." She heard a dark chuckle.

Her eyes wandered along the door to Charlie's room, which was slightly ajar. It was never open.

"Who is this?" She asked, knowing that this question wouldn't get her far, but at least buy some time. She slowly opened the door and walked into the abandoned bedroom. Nothing seemed to be out of place, apart from Charlie's laptop, which normally rested on his desk and was now nowhere to be found.

"Someone who knows exactly who you are." The voice answered. "Katherine Walker, the little sister of a legend. The relative of Ghostface royalty."

"Shut up." She opened the closet, fully expecting a masked figure to jump out. Nothing.

"Oh, don't be so modest. You have such a legacy to live up to. Charlie Walker was a mastermind, and here you are, his shadow. Trying so hard to be normal, to prove you're not like him."

"I'm nothing like him." She left Charlie's room, slowly walking down the stairs, careful not to make a sound.

"Are you sure?" Ghostface asked. "Because I think you're exactly like him—strong, calculating, ruthless when it matters. That's why I'm your biggest fan. You're my favorite, Kitty, you know?"

"You know nothing about me." She entered the kitchen, taking a knife from the stand on the counter. She walked into the living room, in search of her brother, when her gaze fell through the window. His car was gone. "Shit" Kitty mumbled, not seeing the post it not on the coffee table.

"Now, let's not be so hostile." Ghostface sounded almost offended. "I've been studying you for such a long time, Kit."

"What do you want from me?" Kitty spat. "Where are you? Come out if you want to kill me."

"Don't be ridiculous, KittyKat. I would never want to kill you. You're my favorite, remember?"

Her stomach dropped, knowing that whatever he was gonna say next, could only be worse than simply attacking her. "What then?" She walked up the stairs again, not quite believing that he was just calling. From everything she had heard from the movies and real life, the killer was always close by.

"I just want to see if you've got what it takes. Let's start with something simple. Your boyfriend's life is in your hands."

Her breath hitched, not knowing what he was hinting at. Wes was at home, with his mom, the Sheriff. Surely he was safe. "What?"

"You heard me. Wes is in trouble, Kitty. Tick-tock. Unless you want to see his guts on the floor, you'd better get moving."

She didn't waste any time before running down the hall and back down the stairs, the knife still in hand. "Where is he? If you hurt him—"

"Oh, you'll know soon enough. But hurry, sweetheart" The voice let out a dark laugh. "I'd hate for your precious Wes to end up just like your brother. Dead before his time."

The line went dead. Kitty stared at her phone for a second before opening the front door and running down the street. She ran as fast as she could, while she tried calling Wes.

"Pick up, baby." she pleaded, tears spilling over her cheeks, while she tried to bite back the burn in her lungs. "Wes, please."

But her call went unanswered. Four times. A sob escaped her mouth and she quickly tapped onto Nate's contact.

He didn't pick up either.

"Fuck!" Kitty screamed, running around the corner and into Wes' street. She left her brother a frantic message before she dialed 911. "I need help." She screamed as soon as a woman picked up. She rambled everything down. Her name, Wes' address and that a psychotic killer was trying to kill him, before she disregarded the phone on the front lawn of the Hicks' house, gripping the knife with two hands.

"Judy!" Kitty screamed in terror when her eyes landed on the woman lying on the path to the house. Wes' mom was already dead, with various wounds in her stomach and blood all over her mouth and face.

Kitty had to try her best not to faint on the spot, just hoping that Wes was still alive. She knew there was no way the front door was unlocked, so without a second thought, she ran around the house, picked up one of the stones lying around Judy's rose bushes and threw it through the window, climbing through it as fast as possible, without caring about cutting herself.

A few drops of blood ran down her arms, but Kitty didn't even notice: Her focus was fixed on Wes being pushed against the door by Ghostface.

Kitty's breath hitched at the sight before her. Wes was struggling, his face contorted in pain as he tried to push Ghostface's knife away. The masked figure loomed over him, relentless and brutal.

"Get away from him!" Kitty screamed, her voice cracking with terror and fury. She lunged forward, gripping the knife in her hand so tightly her knuckles turned white.

Ghostface barely turned his head before Kitty drove the blade into his back with all her strength. But instead of the satisfying give of flesh, the knife struck something hard—a vest, armor, or something underneath his robes. Ghostface barely staggered, as Kitty's knife clattered to the floor.

Before she could pull back, Ghostface whirled on her, managing to hold Wes in place, while swinging his knife in an arc. The blade slashed across her stomach, not deep enough to be fatal but enough to send a searing pain radiating through her body. Kitty stumbled back with a gasp, her knees buckling as she hit the floor, clutching her abdomen.

"No!" Wes shouted, his voice strangled with desperation. "Take me!" He begged and Ghostface turned his head back around to him.

Kitty looked up at her boyfriend with tears in her eyes, as her fingers moved over the floor in search of the knife.

Ghostface chuckled deeply. "Chivalry...You choose: Her or you?"

"No!" Kitty cried, her voice breaking. She clenched her teeth, every move in search of the knife being awfully painful, because of the wound on her stomach. "No! Wes, don't!"

"I love you", Wes whispered loud enough for her to hear, still pressing back against Ghostface's arms, then his strength faltered.

Before she could react, she saw it—the slight shift in his stance, the way his grip on Ghostface's arm loosened, just enough to let the knife slip past his defenses. Wes had already made up his mind. He stopped fighting just enough.

As the knife plunged into his neck, Wes didn't struggle. His body trembled, but he didn't resist. The pain was sharp, searing—but already fading, like a sound growing quieter with every passing second.

He crumpled to the floor, warmth spreading beneath him, pooling thick and heavy. His vision blurred, black creeping in at the edges, but his last thought was simple, almost peaceful:

If she lives, it was worth it.

Then, the memories came.

His mother's voice, soft but firm as she scolded him for leaving his shoes in the hallway. The way she'd ruffle his hair right after, a contradiction of love and exasperation. Sunday mornings at the diner, her laughing at some dumb joke he made, her eyes crinkling in that way they always did when she was truly happy.

Movie nights with his friends, sitting on the couch, arguing about who the best final girl was. Mindy throwing popcorn at him when he made a bad take, Amber rolling her eyes but still smiling. Chad and Liv, basically taking up the whole sofa space. The warmth of being surrounded by people who made him feel safe, like he belonged.

Then—Kitty.

Kitty, stretching out in the passenger seat of his car, humming to whatever song was on the radio. Kitty, dragging him by the hand through a Halloween store, trying on ridiculous masks just to see which one would make him laugh first. Kitty, looking at him with that spark in her eyes, that quiet kind of love that never needed words.

And finally—her laugh.

Not the ragged sobs he could hear now, but her real laugh, the one that made her whole face light up, the one he could feel in his chest. The sound wrapped around him, warm and familiar, like home.

Wes felt his lips twitch, the ghost of a smile forming as the world around him faded. His body was heavy, but his heart—his heart felt light.

The last thing he saw wasn't the blood pooling around him, wasn't the terror on Kitty's face. It was her, the way she had looked at him the very first time she realized she loved him.

The way he'd always remember her.

His breath hitched, caught between this world and whatever came next.

Then—stillness.

His face relaxed, the faintest smile still lingering on his lips.

And Wes was gone.

"Wes!" Kitty's voice cracked as she screamed, trying to crawl forward despite the pain in her stomach. Tears blurred her vision, and the metallic tang of blood filled her nose.

Ghostface pulled his knife out of Wes' neck, turning to look at Kitty on the floor. Then, the sound of sirens rang out and his head snapped up. He caught himself again, bending down to the girl.

Kitty was sure he was now going to kill her, as fast as possible, before he'd manage to get away, like always. Instead, he moved the knife along her cheek softly, still smeared with Wes' blood and Kitty sobbed. Then he grabbed a bit of her hair, held it in his hand, and moved the knife through it, cleaning the blood off effectively.

It didn't hurt her. Not in the way a knife was supposed to. Ghostface knew exactly what he was doing: Playing with her, taunting. Making fun of the way she had failed to save the boy.

Then Ghostface walked down the hallway, leaving Kitty on her own, the still-warm body of her dead boyfriend beside her.

"I'm so sorry.." She cried, touching his shoulders. Her hands were moving against her will, shaking so much, with Wes blood smeared all over them, the floor, and her whole body.

Wes was just staring back, unmoving. Kitty closed her eyes, pressing her head against his chest and letting her tears soak the fabric of his shirt. She could swear that she could still hear him breathe. It felt so weird, so foreign knowing he was dead, while still feeling so alive, being so present.

The sirens grew louder, flashing lights filling the house with flickering red and blue. But Kitty didn't move.

She couldn't.

She sat there, her body curled against Wes', shaking with silent sobs. His blood had soaked into her clothes, her skin, her hair—warm at first, but now turning cold and sticky. Her fingers clutched at his shirt, her forehead pressed against his shoulder, as if she could will him back to life.

"Wake up, baby. Please wake up."

But he wouldn't. He never would.

The front door burst open with a crash, officers flooding into the house, their voices sharp and commanding. Footsteps pounded against the hardwood, but they barely registered in her mind. She could hear someone calling her name, distant and frantic—Nate?—but it felt like it was coming from another world.

A hand touched her shoulder, and she flinched violently, letting out a strangled gasp.

"Miss, we need to move you." The voice was firm but gentle.

She shook her head, gripping Wes tighter. "No. No, I—he—" Her voice broke into an ugly, raw sob.

The officers exchanged glances, their expressions shifting from urgency to something softer. One of them crouched beside her. "Kitty, it's okay. We're going to help you, but you have to let go."

She couldn't. How could she?

But then another pair of hands—stronger, more familiar—were on her. "Kit—oh my God."

Nate.

Her big brother's voice cracked as he knelt beside her, hesitating before finally pulling her away from Wes. She resisted at first, her fingers grasping onto his shirt, but she was too weak. Too broken.

The moment her grip loosened, her body gave out entirely, slumping against Nate's chest.

"I got you," he whispered, voice trembling as he held her. "I got you, Kit."

She didn't have the strength to answer.

Paramedics surrounded them, checking her injuries, but Kitty barely registered any of it. They lifted her onto a stretcher, her vision swimming as the flashing lights outside grew brighter. The last thing she saw before they carried her away was Wes, still lying there, still wearing that faint, peaceful smile.

Then the doors of the ambulance shut, and the world blurred into nothing.

🔪🔪🔪

AT THE HOSPITAL, the nurses worked quickly, their hands gentle but efficient as they stitched up the wound across her stomach. Kitty flinched with every tug of the needle, though the physical pain felt distant compared to the ache in her chest.

Nate never left her side. He paced the room as they cleaned her cuts, muttering curses under his breath whenever she winced.

"You'll need to rest," one of the nurses said after they were finished, her voice kind but firm. "Keep the stitches clean, and no heavy lifting for a few weeks. You're lucky the wound wasn't deeper."

Kitty gave a small nod, though she didn't feel lucky. How could she, when Wes was gone?

After signing a few papers, Nate helped her into the passenger seat of his car. The drive home was quiet, the air between them heavy with unspoken grief. Kitty leaned her head against the window, staring blankly at the passing streetlights.

When they arrived home, Nate helped Kitty onto the couch. Lily was still off at work but had come by the hospital to see her daughter.

"Do you need anything else?" Nate asked as soon as Kitty was lying on the couch, a thick blanket resting over her body. Kitty didn't react, so he called her name, making her turn her head to him.

"He died for me." She muttered, without much of a reaction on her face. "Wes. He-he begged Ghostface to take him, instead of me."

"Oh, Kitty."

"And Ghostface— He was the one to call me, to get me to come there. It was all part of his plan." She muttered. "He called me his favorite." She looked up and Nate wasn't able to suppress the surprise and worry on his face. "It was all a game. Wes thought he would save me, but Ghostface wouldn't have killed me anyway. I was at fault, if I hadn't been there, maybe Wes hadn't stopped fighting."

"It's not your fault, Kit." Nate shook his head. "This is what Ghostface wants you to think. He wants to break you, to make you think that you're just like him, because you sacrificed a life to save yours. You're not like that. Wes didn't die, because you asked him to. He died, because to him, even the small possibility of your survival was worth every moment he won't get to experience."

Nate's words settled over her like a fragile bandage on a wound too deep to ever truly heal. She wanted to believe him—wanted to take the comfort he was offering—but the guilt still clawed at her insides, refusing to let go.

She turned her head away, staring at a spot on the wall, her throat tightening. The silence between them stretched, heavy and suffocating.

Then, as the weight of everything pressed down on her chest, another feeling crept in beneath the grief.

Anger.

A bitter, burning kind of anger that curled in her stomach and spread like wildfire. Because no matter what Nate said—no matter how much he tried to convince her it wasn't her fault—one thing still remained true.

She had been alone.

"Where were you?" She muttered, tears threatening to spill over her cheek. "I needed you. Just this once. But. You. Weren't. There."

"Kitty—" Nate pinched the bridge of his nose. Kitty frowned at the way he acted. Like she was a simple annoyance. Like he hadn't promised her.

"No!" She interrupted. "You said you wanted to protect me, but instead of that, you were out, doing god knows what with Charlie's laptop."

Nate froze, his hand hanging in the air in front of him, as he narrowed his eyes at his sister. "How do you know that?"

"You left the door open," Kitty muttered. "And when he called, I thought he was.."

"You thought he was hiding in there? ...In Charlie's room?"

"In that moment, yes." Kitty nodded. "All I know is that he has that weird obsession with Charlie... with me. I don't think I will ever escape him. He's never going to stop until he has what he wants from me."

Nate's jaw clenched. "No. That's not going to happen. We'll find him, Kitty. He doesn't get to hurt you anymore."

Kitty nodded faintly. Closing her eyes for just a second as Nate turned to leave, but her mind flew back to Charlie's room. "What did you do? With the laptop, I mean."

"Oh," Nate said surprised. "I took it to an old friend of mine, who's specialized in tech and software, I know Charlie had a lot of videos on that thing and I thought Mom would be happy to have them."

"That's nice." Kitty nodded. "Was he able to get them out?"

"He said it might take a few days, but he's optimistic."

"Okay," Kitty nodded, drawing the blanket closer up her body.

"Sleep a bit." She could hear Nate's steps growing faint as he walked out of the room and into the kitchen. Kitty's mind was jumping back and forth between Wes, the Wes she knew, her boyfriend and the final state she had seen him in. But after all, her body and brain, were just too tired to keep thinking and she eventually drifted to sleep.

-