Chapter Text
Had the dial tone not echoed throughout the house, a shrill and off-putting sound that would make anyone jump, Emmeline Vance would have completely forgotten about the existence of her family’s landline.
It had been out of use for as long as she could remember, really. Everyone opting for the convenience of their mobile phones rendered it basically useless, its presence now merely for aesthetic purposes.
Because of this, the fact that it was currently ringing came as a surprise to her.
Normally, she would have ignored it. It was probably some sort of scam, someone trying to sell her a completely unnecessary but incredibly expensive produce, or tell her she’d been in an accident that wasn’t her fault. Answering it would simply be a waste of time and breath.
But as the phone continued to ring, it would be a lie to say that she wasn’t slightly intrigued.
Giving in to her curiosity, Emmeline paused the TV, trapping Laurie Strode in a state of perpetual terror as Michael Myers’ body hovered over her. She suppressed a groan, stretching her limbs and grimacing at the popping noises they produced thanks to being out of use for the past hour and a half.
“This better be good,” she muttered, lifting the phone to her ear after hitting the answer button. “Hello?”
She twirled the black cord around her finger mindlessly, watching the wire slowly encase her finger.
“Hello.”
The voice was deep and slow, and Emmeline couldn’t recognise it for the life of her. Not wanting to be impolite, she racked her brain in an attempt to conjure up the name of someone who would be calling her at 11:37pm on a Tuesday night.
Nothing. Not even a suspicion of who it might be.
“Hi,” she repeated, forcing a breathless chuckle that she hoped sounded apologetic. “I’m so sorry, who is this?”
“Who’s this ?” The response was smug, and she swore she could hear the smirk that was on the culprit’s face.
She scoffed.
“Oh, I see. Very funny,” she drawled. “I didn’t realise people still did prank calls anymore, but you got me. Have a good night.”
Before they could respond, Emmeline hung up and placed the phone down clumsily. Of course it wasn’t going to be anything important; she knew that. It was near laughable, thinking that the call would be worth answering, and she swore to herself in amusement.
Just as she was about to break Jamie Lee Curtis from her frozen spell, the phone rang again.
“You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me,” she sighed, marching back over to where the phone lay.
If they had decided to call a second time, it was clear that they wouldn’t be giving up so easily. The least she could do was to see where it went, for her own entertainment if nothing else.
“Hello?” Irritation laced her tone, patience wearing thinner and thinner as the seconds passed.
It was the first time she was home alone in months, and she had planned to savour it by watching horror movies in her pyjamas on the couch, nothing more and nothing less. She’d already finished Texas Chainsaw Massacre, and was nearing the end of Halloween before the phone calls began. Even with her parents gone, she couldn’t get a minute of peace.
“I’m sorry, I think I dialled the wrong number.”
“It’s okay.” Emmeline bit her tongue, trying her hardest not to lash out at someone for an honest mistake. “It happens. Just don’t-”
“I never caught your name.” The stranger cut her off, blunt and uncaring about whatever her previous statement could have been.
“You never asked.” She half-joked, fiddling with the cord once more.
“I’m asking now.” The voice was devoid of humour, and Emmeline rolled her eyes.
If they were going to take up her time, the least they could do was put some effort into the conversation.
“Emmeline. It’s Emmeline. Who are you?”
There was a brief pause. She furrowed her brows, pulling the phone away from her ear to confirm that the other person was, in fact, still on the line. The whole game of guess who was quickly getting old - though had it ever been interesting?
A strand of hair fell into her eyes, and she pushed it back, pouting when it fell right back into place. She’d been meaning to pin it back all evening, but instead had settled for the annoying task of pushing it from her face every two minutes.
“Look,” she said. “I’m getting sick of this. Just.. find someone else to bother, and leave me alone.”
Silence again.
Anger bubbled inside her, but just as she was about to slam the phone down, the voice returned.
“You know, you should really tie your hair back. It’s been bothering you all evening.”
Emmeline froze.
Her blood ran cold, every vein in her body wincing as her racing heart pumped at an impossible speed. Tears clouded her vision, and despite her best efforts to steady her breathing, each gulp of air caught painfully in her throat. She gripped the phone as if it were a lifeline, knuckles turning white.
Emmeline thought she knew fear. She’d been on the receiving end of her friends jumping out at her and making her shriek, she’d watched countless horror movies that had kept her up at night, and she was no stranger to having a few silly phobias.
In her eyes, she’d been scared stiff more times than she could count.
How foolish she’d been. This was true horror.
“How the fuck do you know that?” She whispered, choking on her nerves.
“Your back porch has a great view of the living room. The glass doors are a great touch.”
Instantly, she was broken from whatever trance she had been in.
Dropping the phone to the floor and ignoring its loud clatter, she sprinted to the large doors only a metre or so away. Her trembling hands clumsily turned the locks, but even that did little to provide her a feeling of safety. After processing that this person, this sicko had been watching her for god knows how long, from only a few feet away, the adrenaline began to surge through her.
Moving to the kitchen, she fumbled for the largest knife in the knife block. It was a carving knife her mum would use for the Sunday roasts, sharpened to slice through the meat with ease. If anything was going to protect her, it was that knife.
She needed to move. Fast.
All the doors needed to be locked, she thought, every door and every window. Who knew how much time she had before they found a way inside? The second they got inside, she was fucked. She couldn’t let that happen, no matter what.
Clutching the knife in her clammy fist, Emmeline rushed from door to door, turning every lock and closing every pair of curtains. Sweat slicked her palms, and she hissed when the blade slipped and nicked her skin. It was only a surface wound, though, and the adrenaline blocked it from her mind after a few seconds.
Furiously, she scrubbed at the tears streaming silently down her cheeks and cursed herself for being so cowardly. Once she was sure every entrance into the house had been rendered useless, she slunk back to the living room.
She’d never be able to look at this room the same. The porch doors she’d once loved to gaze out of would only remind her of the stalking she was oblivious too. The telephone her and her older sister would play with as a child was contaminated by that horrifying voice and its threats. How dare some fucker take her good memories from her?
In the midst of deliberating where to hide, the soft padding of footsteps went completely unnoticed. It was only when a gloved hand grabbed her waist that Emmeline realised her worst nightmare had become a reality. Due to the shock, her hand released the knife that her life was resting on. The metallic clash taunted her, rubbing in her idiocy. Before she could scramble to collect it, a boot-clad foot kicked it out of reach.
Fuck.
The hand turned her around, and she was face to face with a grotesque mask. It was white, dark black eyes and a gaping mouth froze into an exaggerated scream. It was ghastly. Every hair on Emmeline’s body stood to attention, as if their consciousness would provide a barrier between her and the intruder.
Their fingers sunk deeper into her waist, their grasp tight enough to bruise the skin with shades of purple and yellow. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t free herself, their grip like shackles holding her in place.
Emmeline tried screaming, but she knew it was near hopeless: there were no other houses within a few mile radius. What she’d once cherished had become something to curse, their families isolation leaving her alone in her fight against Death himself.
Out of the corner of her eye, Emmeline caught a flash of silver. Then, their chest was against her back, and there was a knife to her throat.
“Please!” She gasped, struggling to breathe without catching herself against the blade. “Fuck, please, m’parents are gonna find me like this, please don’t do this.”
She was sobbing now, an ugly, unrestrained cry that contorted her features into pure anguish.
With one final surge of confidence, she jerked her leg backwards, hitting the masked figure in the crotch as hard as she could. Upon hearing them crumple, she breathed a sigh of relief. This fleeting hope was crushed as two hands latched onto her foot, pulling her down to the ground.
Dizziness burned behind her eyes as her head collided with the wooden floor, and she could only whimper as the figure moved to straddle her chest. The figure shook its head menacingly, something she could only translate to mean ‘you shouldn’t have done that’.
She barely had time to register the cool blade meeting her throat. There was a swift slash, and then she couldn’t breathe. No matter how deeply she gasped, oxygen refused to travel to her lungs, even when she clawed desperately at her throat.
For two minutes, the figure watched her choke and writhe, blood trickling from the corner of her mouth. When she finally stilled, they stood up, wiped the blood from the knife, and walked calmly out of the Vance house without a second glance.
—
As she predicted, it was her parents who found her.
The news would later report that it was a quick death with minimal struggle, a result of the alarmingly precise wound that stretched across her throat. It was over in minutes, they said. She was helpless. It was a tragedy.
Truthfully, it was an injustice. The only person who would ever know the bravery of Emmeline Vance was the bastard who had killed her.