Killer Geek (SLOW UPDATES)

Thirty-Six

Randy nodded slowly, his gaze lingering on me longer than usual. "Alright, well... just... stay safe, okay?" He turned and quickly walked away, heading toward the living room, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong.

I took a step back, my mind spinning. What is going on here? I thought. Why is he acting so weird?

But the thoughts were quickly pushed aside when I heard a door creaking open downstairs. I rushed to the window, peeking through the blinds. For a brief moment, I saw someone standing by the door, just outside in the yard. My heart skipped a beat. The figure was wearing a mask—black and white, just like in the movies. My blood ran cold.

The figure turned, and I felt a shiver run down my spine. It wasn’t just a random guest at the party.

It was him.

The game wasn’t over.

It had just begun.

The party had started to die down, the chaos beginning to fade as people trickled out, eager to get home before curfew. The music was quieter now, and the energy in the room had shifted. It wasn’t fun anymore—it felt like something was lurking, waiting to pounce.

I stood by the door, watching people leave, feeling strangely out of place as the house emptied. My mind kept drifting back to all the strange things that had happened tonight—the calls, the mask, the feeling of being watched. I wasn’t sure if I was overthinking things or if something was genuinely wrong.

Sidney had been looking for Tatum for what felt like ages. Her eyes scanned the room for any sign of her friend, but the crowd was thinning, and Tatum was nowhere to be found.

“Tatum?” Sidney called out, her voice carrying a sense of urgency. She pushed past a few people, heading toward the back of the house. Her concern was obvious, but no one seemed to notice.

I watched her from my spot by the door, a sinking feeling settling in my stomach. It was getting late. Something felt off, like I was missing something.

Stu was still standing at the door, nodding as people said their goodbyes and filtered out. His usual playful energy had fizzled, replaced by a kind of nervous tension. He shifted from foot to foot, looking toward Sidney as she disappeared down the hall.

I was about to follow her when I heard a creak from outside. I turned, eyes scanning the dark yard beyond the open door. It was him—Billy.

He was standing just outside, in the shadows, watching the last of the partygoers leave. His eyes flicked to me briefly before focusing on Sidney, and for a split second, I noticed the way he was standing—calm, too calm. There was a quiet intensity to him, and it made my skin prickle.

Sidney, hearing him behind her, stopped in her tracks. She turned, her face a mix of confusion and caution.

“Billy,” she said, her voice tight as she saw him standing there.

Billy smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. There was something cold in his expression as he took a step closer, just enough to close the distance between them.

Without saying a word, he glanced toward Stu, who was still standing in the doorway. There was a brief exchange of looks, one that made the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. It was a look that meant something—something I didn’t understand. It sent a sharp pang of suspicion through me.

Stu didn’t say anything, just shifted uncomfortably in the doorway, avoiding Billy’s gaze. Billy turned back to Sidney, his voice low but purposeful.

“Sidney,” he said, his tone too smooth, too controlled. “Can we talk?”

Sidney hesitated, glancing back toward the hallway, and then at the door behind her. She looked almost reluctant, but something about Billy’s stare kept her rooted to the spot.

“Yeah,” she said after a moment, her voice a little less sure than before. She gave him a small nod before starting toward the stairs.

Billy followed closely behind her, just a step too close. I watched them both head upstairs, the sound of their footsteps almost muffled by the distance.

As they disappeared from view, my stomach twisted. Something wasn’t right. I couldn’t explain it, but I had the feeling that this night wasn’t over. And whatever was waiting upstairs—whatever was about to happen—wasn’t going to be good.

The atmosphere in the house had shifted. With most of the partygoers gone, it felt less chaotic but not any less tense. Only a handful of us remained—Stu, Randy, me, and a few others—lounging in the living room, eyes glued to the TV as Halloween played on the screen.

I sat curled up on the couch, my gaze flicking between the movie and the people around me. The room was dim, the glow of the television casting flickering shadows across the walls. The tension from earlier still lingered in my chest, refusing to fade.

On screen, Laurie Strode cautiously moved through the darkened house, the eerie music swelling as she unknowingly crept toward danger.

“This is it,” Randy said suddenly, sitting up straighter as he pointed at the screen. “This is the moment when she should have seen it coming.”

Stu, sprawled out on the floor with a beer in hand, smirked. “And why’s that, oh wise horror expert?”

Randy blinked at him, genuinely stunned by the question. He dramatically grabbed the remote, pausing the movie.

“You don’t know the rules?” he asked, his voice laced with disbelief.

Stu grinned. “Enlighten us.”

Randy stood up, brushing off his jeans as he took center stage. He lifted a hand, holding up one finger.

“There are certain rules that one must abide by in order to successfully survive a horror movie,” he began, pacing slightly.

He threw up another finger. “Number one: You can never have sex.”

A chorus of groans and laughs erupted from the small group. Someone threw a chip at him, but he ignored it, pushing forward.

“Sex equals death, people. That’s just how it goes.”

He held up a third finger. “Number two: You can never drink or do drugs.”

Stu dramatically gasped and clutched his beer to his chest like he’d been personally attacked. “Well, shit, guess we’re all dead, then.”

Randy smirked but didn’t argue. “It’s the sin factor. It’s an extension of number one. You sin, you die.”

I found myself half-smiling at the absurdity of it, but I couldn’t shake the eerie truth behind his words.

“And number three,” Randy continued, his expression turning serious. “Never, ever, under any circumstances, say ‘I’ll be right back.’ Because you won’t be.”

Stu, grinning like an idiot, immediately stood up and made a show of walking toward the kitchen. “Hey, I’m getting another beer. You want one?” He looked directly at Randy, his smirk widening.

“Yeah, sure,” Randy said, rolling his eyes.

Stu chuckled. “I’ll be right back!” he called dramatically before disappearing into the kitchen.

A few people laughed, but Randy only shook his head. “See? Dead man walking.”

The movie resumed, but I barely paid attention. Something about all of this felt too on-the-nose, too eerie. Maybe it was just the night, or maybe it was just Randy’s theatrics, but a chill settled over me that I couldn’t shake.