Chapter Fifteen
The trees blur into a tunnel of shadows as I run. My lungs burn. My legs scream. But nothing— nothing—hurts like the images seared into my brain.
Ghostface slamming Lana against the tree.
Her fingers scrabbling at his ankle.
The knife plunging in—
Again.
And again.
I ran. Like a coward.
Lana. Jessica. Both dead.
A sob claws up my throat. I choke it back. The tears come anyway. My knees buckle. Every time I blink, the knife’s there. Glinting behind my eyelids.
Keep moving. Don’t stop. Don’t think.
Left. Right. Straight.
Kristy. Find Kristy.
Branches whip my cheeks. Good.
I fucking deserve it. Every sting.
I pick a direction. Doesn’t matter where. Just forward.
Because if I stop, I’ll remember how Lana fought.
How I let her die.
No.
Keep going.
I follow the glow sticks, the only thing that makes sense. Left. Right. Deeper into the trees. Every shadow looks like him—every snapped twig is the knife plunging into Lana again.
“Kristy … Kristy, where are you … Kristy …”
Footsteps. I dive behind a tree.
“Payton?”
Neon shorts.
I step out. “Kristy!”
“Hey, girl,” she breathes. “I just—”
I crash into her. “Lana ... Lana’s—”
Vomit splatters the leaves between us. Acid and fruit punch and the last of the stupid fucking candy I ate in the car.
Kristy stumbles back, her phone’s beam shining up at me. “What the hell?”
“Ghostface killed her.” I swipe my mouth with the back of my hand, trembling. “Right in front of me. He—he stabbed her. Over and over and—”
Her face goes slack. Then she laughs. “Did Lana put you up to this?”
“No. Fuck, no.” I grab her shoulders, shaking her. “I saw it. There was so much blood. He—”
My stomach heaves again. I double over, gagging. Nothing comes up. Just the burn in my throat.
Kristy gives me a look—are you insane? Maybe I am.
Maybe watching your bestie die inches from you peels something loose in your brain.
“She fought. She screamed and he—” My voice cracks. “He looked right at me when he did it. Like he knew I’d watch and do nothing.”
I look up. “You believe me, right?”
Kristy shifts from foot to foot. “Come on. You’re scaring me.”
“It’s real, okay? You have to believe me. Vanessa didn’t, and she—”
“Wait, what? Vanessa Graves?”
“I told her and she didn’t believe me. Now she’s probably dead too.”
“Told her what?”
“He killed Jessica.”
Kristy reels back like I’ve slapped her. “Jessica Langley? That doesn’t—”
“He slit her throat. I didn’t …” I shake my head, tears springing hot again. “I couldn’t do anything.”
“Knock it off, Payton. Did you take something? Edibles or—”
“For fuck’s sake. This is real, okay? I swear.”
Kristy’s mouth opens. Closes.
“You need to slow down,” she finally whispers. “You sound crazy.”
“We never should’ve come here.”
Kristy paces up and down. “No. No. That’s not—it’s just part of the fucking game, right? Like an immersive storyline or—or actors or some shit? Right?”
“There was so much blood.”
She spins toward me. “Stop saying that.”
My shoulders hitch. The dam finally breaks when Kristy wraps her arms around me.
“It’s real. It’s fucking real.”
She pulls back, eyes glassy. “Lana’s … gone?”
I nod.
“She’s not dead.” Her voice cracks. “She can’t be.”
“She … she told me to find you.” I glance at the phone in her hand. “Call 911.”
She swipes the screen. “Signal’s still out.”
“We have to go, Kristy.”
Her hands clamp onto mine. “Okay. Okay, we’ll go.” Her voice is paper-thin. “But we stick together. No matter what.”
All I can manage is a nod.
She exhales sharply. Squares her shoulders. “There’s an emergency exit near the chapel. Staff only, but fuck it.”
Of course she knows that. Kristy always memorizes escape routes.
We move fast, arms brushing, our breathing synced. Every shadow makes my pulse spike, but Kristy’s grip is iron.
“Left here,” she whispers, yanking me off the trail.
The trees thin slightly. Up ahead, a crooked sign dangles from a rusted post: SECTOR 5–HAUNTED CHAPEL.
“Can we skip the whole chasing bit? These thighs ain’t built for cardio. They’re built for riding.”
I pause. “You hear that?”
Kristy nods slowly. “Sounds like … Vanessa.”
“Aht-aht. No touchy. You wanna slice ‘n’ dice, at least buy me dinner first.”
My stomach drops. “Shit. She’s with him.”
Kristy’s eyes flick to mine. “Who?”
“Ghostface.”
“The killer?” she mutters under her breath.
“Maybe,” I whisper back.
Kristy straightens. “We have to find her. And save her.”
I nod, but she’s already creeping forward, following the voice.
I lunge, catch her arm. “You got a weapon?”
She digs into her fanny pack. Pulls out a canister—pepper spray.
Good enough.
Leaves crackle underfoot, and every snap of a twig has my spine doing the worm.
“Wanna say hi for the fans, Ghost Daddy?”
Fuck, she’s definitely with him.
“You gonna stab me now or later? I like a little build-up, you know.”
“She sounds … okay?” Kristy whispers.
“Damn, Ghost Daddy—what kinda janky-ass angle is this? You tryna get me lookin’ like a busted pinata on camera?”
Maybe she’s met a harmless Ghostface. Not the real killer.
Or maybe he’s playing with her. Just like he toyed with Jessica.
“If you gon’ hang me up like this, you better tag me. Ain’t no way I’m dyin’ uncredited.”
Kristy picks up her pace.
I lurch after her.
“Baby, I ain’t scared of no blade. You’re gonna have to do better than that if you want me to quit clownin’ on you from beyond.”
Kristy freezes mid-step. Her hand flies to her mouth, gaze fixed on something ahead.
Above.
Vanessa. Upside down. Guts out. Halloween deco. Fucked-up.
Her head lolls toward us. For one horrible second—she’s breathing. She’s—
No.
Her eyes are empty. Unblinking.
And her mouth—
It’s not just open. Split. Corners carved into a too-wide grin. Like the killer wanted her to die smiling.
Kristy staggers back into me.
That’s when I see him.
A figure standing in Vanessa’s shadow, shirtless. Ghostface.
The height. The build. Those shoulders.
He turns toward us.
“Kade?”
Kristy’s fingers dig into my arm. “What the fuck,” she hisses. “Th-that’s your neighbor?”
He peels off the mask—
His eyes meet mine—steel-blue. The color of betrayal. Of madness. Of murder.
The forest spins. It’s him. It’s really him.
“Payton …” he rasps. “You need to—”
Kristy shoves me behind her, pepper spray raised. “Stay the fuck back.”
He lifts one hand slowly, palm out. The blood pooling at his feet. Vanessa’s phone in his other hand.
My throat tightens. “You killed Jessica. You killed my best friend.”
He swallows. “Payton, listen—”
“No, you listen.” I step around Kristy. “I’m done playing games. I’m—”
“The killer’s still out here. You need to—”
“Shut up,” Kristy yells, breath hitching. “Payton, he followed you here. He’s messing with us.”
I press my knuckles to my mouth. No fucking way.
My neighbor’s a psycho. Stalker. Killer.
He stabbed Lana.
Slit Jessica’s throat.
Disemboweled Vanessa.
And I let him fuck me against a tree.
“I know what this looks like,” he says quietly. Calm. Too calm. As if this is just another Tuesday for him.
Kristy pulls me back. Her arm shoots out in front of me. “Back. The fuck. Up.”
“I’m the least of your problems right now.” His voice stays level. “Now move. I’m getting you two out.”
A laugh bubbles out of Kristy. “You’re holding a dead girl’s phone. Standing in her blood.”
He closes the distance.
Kristy shakes the spray. “One more step. I’ll blind you, you sick fuck.”
Those steel-blue eyes darken with something I don’t recognize.
“Payton,” he says. “You know me.”
Do I?
The proof is all there.
His body streaked with blood.
Vanessa. Gutted. Dripping above him.
Her phone. Ghostface was here. He’s still here.
His jaw tightens. “Listen. The real killer is—”
“Stop lying,” Kristy shrieks.
His stare cuts to the woods. “No time. He’s coming.”
I force myself to look at Vanessa again—that stretched grin, cruel and knowing.
Who did this to you?
Kade catches my eye. “I found her like this. I was trying to—”
“Save her?” My voice cracks. “Like you ‘saved’ Lana?”
His face does that thing—same exasperated eye-roll he makes when Max tells his ‘Why did Kade cross the road?’ jokes to me at the mailboxes. The ones where the punchline is always ‘Because no one wants him on their side.’
“Fuck,” he mutters, not to us but to the trees. To the night. To whatever god lets good intentions get mistaken for the butcher’s work.
His eyes snap back to mine.
“We’re leaving.” He steps forward—more like a babysitter done reasoning with toddlers than a killer. “Argue on the way.”
Kristy shoots me a look—don’t you dare trust that man.
Kade’s fingers twitch toward us. “Last chance. Come with me now.”
“Fuck you,” Kristy spits.
He lunges—too fast—grabbing my elbow.
My fingers close around the pepper spray. I yank it from Kristy’s grip.
Aim the nozzle right in his face—
PSSSHHHTTT.
Kade reels back with a guttural roar, hands flying to his eyes. “You fucking bitch—”
My sneaker connects with his groin.
A wet, airless sound—and he’s on his knees.
Kristy’s scream finally reaches me.
Kade’s clawing his face and clutching his balls. Tears and snot slick down his jaw.
I snatch Kristy’s arm. “Run.”
“Goddamn …” Kade blinks up at me. “Wait.”
But Kristy’s already crashing through the trees, me sprinting behind her, the taste of blood and pepper spray thick in my mouth, his howl echoing behind us.
“Payton! He’ll kill you both!”