Survive.
Survive!
The store was dead quiet, except for the hum of the old ceiling fan and the squeak of Jax spinning lazily on the barstool behind the counter.
“Another record-breaking day,” he muttered, glancing at the empty aisles. “Zero customers. Zero sales. We’re on fire.”
“Maybe if you didn’t scare everyone off with your sarcasm,” Riley shot back from behind the register, typing something into the computer that didn’t really need typing. He always looked busy. Always had to.
Zane leaned across the counter, chewing on a lollipop he definitely hadn’t paid for. “Face it, this store’s just a front for our little secret. No one comes in here for vintage board games anyway.”
“That woman bought a teapot last week,” Lila said sweetly, shelving a row of dusty comic books. “She said it was charming.”
“Yeah, and then she probably tripped on a ghost walking home,” Nova muttered without looking up from her laptop, wires snaking everywhere. “Wi-Fi’s garbage in here, by the way. If we ever get hacked, it’s Riley’s fault for picking the cheapest router known to man.”
Riley sighed. “You complain, but you’d miss it if we upgraded. You thrive on suffering.”
Jax clapped his hands once, loudly. “Okay! Who wants to bet the next customer buys literally nothing, asks for directions, and leaves?”
As if on cue, the bell above the door jingled. A guy in cargo shorts walked in, stared at a rack of VHS tapes, and left.
The group groaned.
“Called it,” Jax said proudly.
But then Riley’s phone buzzed. A different kind of buzz. The kind only he knew to listen for. He froze, pulling it from his pocket. One glance, and his joking mood evaporated.
The others noticed instantly.
“What is it?” Lila asked softly, putting down the comics.
Riley’s voice was low. “We’ve got one.”
They crowded around as he opened the encrypted message. The words glowed on the screen like they were breathing.
“He’s outside my house. Three nights in a row now. No one believes me. Please help me. I don’t think I’ll survive tonight.”
Attached was a grainy photo: a figure in a plain white mask standing at the edge of a bedroom window. Expressionless. Waiting.
“Creepy as hell,” Zane muttered, sucking hard on the lollipop stick. “It’s probably a prank.”
“No,” Lila whispered, staring at the photo. “She’s terrified. You can feel it.”
Jax was already grabbing his jacket. “Where?”
Nova’s fingers danced over her keyboard. “IP trace says… rural edge of town. Twenty minutes. Middle of nowhere.”
“Perfect,” Zane groaned. “Nothing bad ever happens in the woods.”
They piled into Jax’s beat-up SUV, the store’s neon OPEN sign flickering weakly as they pulled away.
The house was old, two stories, half-swallowed by trees. Porch light flickering. The girl — pale, shaking — opened the door before they even knocked.
“You came,” she whispered, eyes darting over their shoulders like she expected him to be there.
Inside, she explained: the masked man had been outside her window at night, unmoving, just staring. She’d called the police once — they searched, found nothing. They told her it was “an overactive imagination.”
“We believe you,” Lila said firmly, squeezing her hand.
They set up in the living room. Nova checked the house’s weak security system, Riley drew quick layouts of exits, Jax prowled the halls with a baseball bat he’d brought from the shop, and Zane raided the fridge.
“Serious investigation fuel,” he said, holding up a slice of cold pizza.
Hours passed. The woods groaned outside, the wind scratching tree branches against the siding. Nothing.
Until Nova’s laptop beeped.
“Motion detected,” she said flatly.
They crowded around. The grainy camera feed from the front porch glitched in and out — but through the static, a figure in a white mask stood perfectly still.
Then the feed cut.
“Oh hell no,” Zane whispered.
A bang rattled the back door.
The girl screamed.
Chaos exploded — Jax charging one way, Riley shouting orders, Nova fumbling with the cameras, Lila pulling the girl to safety. Zane muttered, “This is why I hate fieldwork,” even as he grabbed a kitchen knife.
The masked man moved through the house like he’d been there before, silent and patient. He slashed, narrowly missing Jax, then vanished into the shadows.
“He’s playing with us,” Riley hissed.
They regrouped, heartbeats pounding. Riley’s eyes narrowed. “We end it. Tonight.”
The trap was messy, desperate — alarms rigged with pots and pans, lights flickering, Nova hacking the circuit breaker to blindside him.
It worked.
The killer crashed through the hallway, mask gleaming in the dim light, and they cornered him in the kitchen. Jax swung hard, knocking the knife from his hand. Riley pinned him down with a chair leg.
The mask came off. A local handyman. Average. Forgettable. The kind of man you’d never notice until it was too late.
“You ruined it,” he snarled. “I was going to make her perfect.”
Lila shivered.
By the time the police arrived, he was unconscious and cuffed.
Back at the store, the friends sat in silence, the neon light buzzing overhead.
“Do we… always end up almost dying?” Zane asked finally.
“Yes,” Riley said flatly.
“Cool. Just checking.”
Nova’s laptop pinged. Another message.
They all looked at each other.
“Not again,” Jax groaned.
But Riley’s expression hardened. “Yeah. Again.”
Fade out.
The End.
