Horror Classics Reimagined

Alex barely had time to catch his breath before he heard it—a sudden whoosh of air behind him. He spun around, but it was too late. A Ghostface leapt from above, slamming into him and knocking him hard to the ground.

The impact stole the air from his lungs, and before he could react, the weight of the masked figure pinned him down. Alex struggled, trying to buck the attacker off, but they were strong and relentless.

"Get off me!" Alex shouted, panic clawing at him as the Ghostface pulled out a knife, the silver blade glinting under the pale light of the moon.

The killer raised the weapon, aiming it straight for Alex's chest, but he managed to grab their wrist just in time.

The struggle was intense. Alex strained with everything he had, his muscles burning as he fought to keep the knife away from him. The blade hovered mere inches from his face, the reflection of his terrified eyes glaring back at him.

"Not… today…" Alex growled through clenched teeth.

But the Ghostface wasn't alone. From the corner of his eye, Alex saw another figure approaching, their footsteps slow and deliberate. The second Ghostface stopped a few feet away, watching the struggle with an almost casual demeanor.

And then they started laughing.

The sound was chilling, but something was off. It wasn't the distorted, menacing voice of the voice changer—it was real, raw, and unnerving. The second Ghostface didn't bother using their voice box.

"Come on," they said, their tone amused, "you're making this harder than it needs to be."

Alex glared up at them, still fighting to keep the knife away. "If you're gonna kill me, why don't you stop watching and do it yourself?"

The second Ghostface tilted their head, as if considering the idea. Then, without warning, they reached up and removed their mask.

It was Officer Claire Davis.

Alex froze, his mind racing. The stoic police officer from earlier—the one who barely spoke, who never seemed to react to anything—was standing in front of him, smirking.

The Ghostface pinning Alex down faltered for a moment, their grip on the knife loosening slightly. They turned their head to look at Claire, clearly confused.

"What…?" the Ghostface muttered, their voice distorted by the modulator.

But Alex seized the moment. Using the killer's distraction to his advantage, he twisted his body and wrenched the knife from their grasp. Before they could react, Alex drove the blade into their side, the force of the attack sending them rolling off of him.

The second Ghostface screamed in pain, clutching their side as they writhed on the ground. Alex scrambled to his feet, his chest heaving. He reached down and ripped the mask off the injured Ghostface.

It was Noah Grant.

"The librarian…" Alex whispered, his heart pounding in disbelief.

Noah glared at Alex, blood trickling from his mouth as he gasped for air.

"You don't… know what you've done," Noah wheezed.

Before Alex could respond, Claire let out a furious shout. She charged at him, knife in hand, her expression a mix of rage and excitement.

Alex didn't wait to find out what she planned to do. He turned and bolted toward the fence he had jumped earlier. He could hear Claire's heavy footsteps behind him, her voice cutting through the night.

"You can't run forever, Alex!" she yelled, her tone wild and unhinged.

Adrenaline surged through Alex's veins as he reached the fence. Without hesitation, he vaulted over it, landing awkwardly in the backyard he had fled through earlier. His knees buckled slightly, but he forced himself to keep moving, sprinting toward the other side.

Behind him, he heard Claire crash against the fence, her knife scraping against the wooden planks as she tried to climb over.

Alex didn't look back. He knew this wasn't over—not yet. But if he could just survive the night, maybe he could figure out how to stop them.

Maybe.