Chapter Nineteen
Dirt in my teeth. Blood on fire.
The mask’s fused to my face—sweat-crusted, reeking of iron, the cheap plastic grafting itself into bone. Don’t remember strapping it back on. Don’t remember much except—
The gothic script on the trailer now reads—HTLIF RUOY ESNAELC.
Fucking performance piece. Whoever’s behind this wants screams. Blood. Wants Payton on her knees—raw, trembling.
That thing in the mirror. If it was real … means he’s got backup.
I lurch onto my hands and knees.
Trees twist. Leaves aren’t leaves anymore. Snouts.
‘Hey, kiddo.’
Dad’s voice. Clear as day. I whirl around—
Nothing but a rotting log.
My skull splits open like a can opener’s gone to work from the inside out.
Dad’s hands over mine around the rod. ‘Steady, son. Bass don’t bite on panic.’ He’d hum Born in the USA. Off-key.
The sun was always too bright on the pier. Hot dogs. Laughing kids. Gulls.
Then came the tug on my line.
Dad always knew how to hook a bass, reel it in. Let its momentum carry it to us—because it never struggled once it got close.
‘Aim for the back of the throat,’ he’d murmur.
His thumb pressed over mine on the handle. Steady pressure. No mercy.
Max at seven, shoving his ice cream cone into my palm because I always gave him the cherry. ‘You can have mine. It’s got sprinkles.’
Mom before the crash, swaying by the kitchen sink, vodka bottle glinting. ‘You look just like him.’ The way she said ‘him’—like Dad’s name was a roach she found in her drink.
Robert’s belt buckle clinking as he loomed over Max. Me in the garage later, sharpening Dad’s hunting knife. Robert’s voice through the wall: ‘You tell anyone, I’ll—’
He never struggled. Not once I got close. And I knew exactly where to aim.
Payton’s teeth at my earlobe. ‘Fuck me like you mean it, Ghostface.’
Her nails in my shoulders. Trying to anchor herself. Or me.
What if it was her?
What if the monster was always inside—and tonight, she freed him?
Something between the trees. Porcine snout. Black eyes.
I lunge. My fist connects with bark. Skin splits. Pain flares bright and clean through the haze.
Real.
I suck in a breath.
Focus, you bastard.
Somewhere out there, Payton’s running. The motherfucker’s waiting. And I’m the only goddamn thing standing between them.
The trail ahead bleeds red.
Lanterns.
Set low to the ground, flickering like a pulse. Or a countdown.
He’s got Payton.
I pin my gaze to the tree line and move—one foot in front of the other. Walking feels like dying. Stalling means she dies.
Payton, in her tank top and denim skirt. Hair matted. Face streaked with tears. Begging me to make it stop.
He touches her? He’ll feel it. Every cut. Make him stay awake while I split him open.
I go down hard—knees cracking dirt, teeth slamming together. White flashes behind my eyes. My hands skid, gravel grinding into skin.
The mask catches when I suck in air—wet, sticking to my mouth. Can’t tell where my face ends and it begins.
I bite down anyway.
Push up.
A shape slithers between the trees—not a person.
A pig.
I shake my head.
“Kade?”
I turn so fast the world tilts.
She tumbles into view. Her clothes are intact—hoodie, tank top, that fuck-me skirt. Eyes wide. Wild. Locked onto mine.
She’s safe.
She’s here.
I meet her in three strides, arms banding around her waist, tugging her in. Her warmth. Her scent. It’s her.
Payton pulls back, fingers grazing the mask. But she doesn’t peel it off.
Why not?
“Are you okay? I saw you on the cameras. You were …”
Cameras?
She’s lying. You know the truth, boy. Look closer.
“Kade?” Those pupils dilate. Wide. Black.
The lanterns lick up her spine, casting a shadow too tall. Wrong.
I shove her away. “You’re not her.”
“What?”
“Get the fuck away from me.” I stalk past her.
“Kade, wait.” She hurries to keep pace. “Listen, Derek’s got Kristy locked up, and I think he’s the—”
“Save it.” No more distractions. No more pretty lies. I need to think. Need to—
She tugs my arm. “Are you listening? We’ve got to—”
I catch a handful of hair. Yank her in.
Teeth snap for my wrist.
Shards in. Shards out. Every breath through this goddamn mask slices me up from the inside.
“Kade …?”
I blink. Her face is ashen, those green eyes wide and brimming.
She takes a step back.
I take two forward.
“Kade, what—”
I lunge.
She spins. Takes off.
“Run, piggy.” The sound that comes out of me is all teeth and hunger. “Daddy’s coming!”
Branch to the face. I don’t slow.
Her rhythm’s all fucked. Tripping on roots. Rasping like a dying animal.
I’m maybe twenty feet behind her now. Close enough to hear her sobbing.
“Please, Kade, please—”
“Keep squealing. I’ll carve the noise right out of you. I’ll skin you—”
She bolts.
I tear through the woods after her, mask hot, lungs raw, the knife thrumming in my grip. Trees blur past. Pulsing like veins.
She breaks left toward the old trail. Mistake. I cut through the clearing. Vault the fallen log. Slam into her from the side.
We go down hard.
She crawls—gets maybe a foot before I grab her ankle.
She flips over, kicks at me.
“Wriggly little fucker. Still got bite, huh?”
Her sneaker smashes into my mask. Goddamn bitch’s up in an instant—scurrying off like a fucking pig.
Up ahead—
A flash of red. Her hair.
Left. Right. Zig-zagging.
“I see you!”
She bursts through the thicket. Through the clearing. Straight into my hands. Where she belongs.
She falls chest-first. Hands scrabbling.
I roll her over. Pin her flat. Blade to her throat. Wrists locked above her head.
“Kade …” Her voice is so small. So fucking breakable. “It’s me. Please … don’t.”
The knife skips against her skin.
‘Mmm. Look at you. Big bad Ghostface, all heart-eyes for a bitch who wouldn’t piss on you if you were on fire.’
My blade’s back at her throat before it slips.
Payton’s face flickers—human, monster, the girl who came screaming on my cock earlier.
The world’s spinning. Shadows at the edge of my vision—creeping closer. My mask’s soaked inside. I’m drowning in it. Can’t breathe. She’s everywhere.
Noises in the woods.
My gaze snaps to the trees.
Vanessa back-from-the Graves. Strutting out in latex, heels clicking on twisted roots.
No. No fucking way.
‘Oh, don’t gimme that look.’ Her lips twist into that leer. ‘You know I’m right. She don’t want you, baby. She wants the thrill. The mask. The danger. Bet you take it off and she dries up faster than a wig in a wind tunnel.’
“Shut the fuck up!”
Payton—or whatever this thing is—flinches. Her pupils swallow the green whole, black oil spreading until there’s nothing human left.
I stagger upright.
“Kade?”
Vanessa takes another step. ‘You wanna be free? Cut the leash. Girl like that? She makes monsters then cries about the blood. Go on, lover boy. Do what your daddy never could—put the bitch down.’
Not-Payton scrambles to her feet and reaches for me.
My blade goes straight through cotton, deep into flesh.
Her mouth hangs open. Those black eyes warp into green.
Fuck.
Fuck.
Vanessa howls with laughter.
“Kade … Kade!”
Payton. Shaking me the best she can.
The knife’s still in my hand. She isn’t bleeding.
Yet.
I rock back a step. Heart in my skull.
Vanessa cackles from somewhere behind me. ‘Mmm. Look at you. About to gut the only girl who ever gave a damn. How’s that for daddy issues?’
I whirl around.
Her stomach starts peeling down the middle. Bit by bit, her guts ooze out. Draping over a body that refuses to drop.
Blood maps her arms—wrists to fingertips.
‘Oops.’ Her mouth curls. ‘Guess I’m wearing my insides out.’
My fingers spasm around the blade.
A wink. ‘Still got you hard, though. Don’t lie.’
No. Fuck no. My jaw clenches. I spin toward Payton.
Her face … it’s melting. Skin peeling. Jaw stretching into a fucking snout. Those green eyes gone. Just black, empty holes.
‘Kill it,’ the forest cries. ‘KILL IT KILL IT KILL IT—’
Payton—no, Pigface, it’s Pigface—dodges left. Too slow. The blade skids off her collarbone, splitting fabric and skin—
“Kade.”
Fuck, it sounds like her.
Laughter curls around us. ‘Oh, this is rich. You really out here tryna catch a conscience now? Baby, that mask ain’t gonna hide all that limp-dick guilt. Newsflash—ain’t nobody scared of a killer with a crush.’
“Shut. Up,” I roar.
‘Put her down, Romeo,’ she drawls, circling us. ‘Do it real sweet—maybe she’ll give you a pity fuck before the cops scoop your dumbass into a body bag.’
I whirl, drive the knife through the bitch’s throat.
Air. Just air.
Behind me, Payton gasps. “What—”
“Don’t look at her.” I spin back.
Too late.
Payton’s face—her real face—gone pale. Eyes locked on whatever’s behind me. “Kade … who are you … I don’t …”
The ground bucks under me.
Vanessa’s voice, right in my ear. ‘She don’t trust you. Bet she’s itching to run.’
Payton closes the gap.
I snatch her wrist before she can pull off my mask. Pin her to a tree—one arm crushing her throat.
“Wake up,” she cries.
‘Bitch still thinks you’re gonna save the day. But we both know what kinda monster you really are.’
“Kade? Whatever you’re—”
I lean in, the mask grazing her ear. “Prove it’s you.”
“What?”
“Prove. It.” My thumb digs in. “What did you say to me in the woods? When I had you pinned? When I was inside you?”
“I—I don’t—”
Wrong answer.
Maybe the real Payton’s already bleeding out somewhere, and this thing’s just wearing her skin.
I could crush her jaw. Grind bone to dust. Make damn sure that smile’s real. Or I could use the knife.
“Fuck me like you mean it, Ghostface,” she blurts out.
My grip falters.
Vanessa cackles. ‘Oh, anyone could’ve guessed that, baby.’
Payton’s eyes dart to the blade. “And I-I told you that right after I pulled your mask off.”
“What’s my name?” I demand.
Her brow furrows. “Kade.”
I can still feel it. That same warm rush, a jolt of pride, her voice breaking around my name.
The blade kisses her skin. “My full name.”
Her lips tremble. “Kade Mercer.”
I tighten my grip. “It’s Kade. Benjamin. Mercer.”
She claws at my wrist.
“And you’re not her,” I growl. “Fucking impostor.”
Her lips move. Some broken plea that doesn’t make it past my squeeze.
‘STOP.’
Max.
‘Stop. You’re hurting her!’