FINAL GIRL

Taylor sipping a bottle of whiskey in the middle of a diner at 5 in the morning having trauma flashbacks

“I don’t know. A lot.”  Tate stepped up besides her, seemingly out of thin air. He appreciated that she didn’t seem afraid of him, of any of their presence actually, but it made him curious as to what she had seen before moving in; What made her so drawn to a place of death and decay. Eyes scanned up and down the winding staircase and he remembered seeing Ben Harmon hanging heavily from the chandelier that was right above their heads. It made him sad, but Ben was careless in his last day in the mansion - He should have never taken the baby back inside.  “Wait, isn’t there something on the internet that basically knows everything? Violet showed it to be once -”  The haunt paused as he tried to recall what it was called. She use let him explore the modern internet to his leisure.  “Goggles? Something like that…”

       𝖘𝖍𝖊'𝖘   𝖑𝖔𝖘𝖙   𝖎𝖓   𝖆   𝖉𝖗𝖊𝖆𝖒𝖑𝖎𝖐𝖊   𝖗𝖊𝖛𝖊𝖗𝖎𝖊,   𝖍𝖆𝖑𝖋-𝖑𝖎𝖉𝖉𝖊𝖉   𝖍𝖆𝖟𝖊𝖑   𝖊𝖞𝖊𝖘   lingering   on   the   blonde.   stephanie   doesn’t   remember   seeing   this   girl   from   anywhere   prior,   but   it’s   her   outfit   catching   her   attention.   the   TART   inquiry   snaps   her   back   to    the   present,   taking   her   by    surprise   —   she   hadn’t   actually   meant   to   stare.   finding   herself   obsessed   &   even  enraptured   in   the   world   of   style,   she   can’t   help   her   tendency   to   fixate   on   the   most   subtle   details   —   sometimes,  at   a   level   of   intensity.   ❛  sorry,  ❜    she   casts   a   delicate   smile,   despite   feeling   a   little   attacked.    ❛  i   just   like   what   you’re   wearing.   that   color   really   flatters   you,  ❜   she  adds,   a   genuine   compliment.   

Oh, God. The little voice in the back of Ashley’s head told her she was really close to death, that maybe she shouldn’t open that trapdoor, but another little voice told her she’d essentially be leaving Jessica to die if she was in there, calling for her help, and she did nothing. She was about to unlatch it when she felt her arm pulled in a completely different direction, the face of someone she didn’t recognize as being part of their group. A small, frightened noise left her mouth but stopped as soon as she saw that she’d just put the both of them in grave danger, a piercing shriek echoing throughout the cave. She gulps in a way she’s sure the other girl can hear her and looks around, her breathing growing heavier. ❝What’s going on?❞ she mouths.

        ❛   𝖜𝖍𝖆𝖙   𝖙𝖍𝖊   𝖍 𝖊 𝖑 𝖑   𝖉𝖔𝖊𝖘   𝖍𝖊   𝖜𝖆𝖓𝖙   ?   ❜    she   narrows   catlike   hues,   feeling   that   lurking   presence   she   can’t   seem   to   shake   lately   &   it’s   driving   her   C R A Z Y    —   she’s   already   made   her   disinterest   crystal   clear,   but   he’s   one   of   the   more   tenacious   kinds.     it’s   no   secret   that   lydia   sayers   is   a   BOMBSHELL,   swanking   down   the   hall   with   lines   of   admirers   in   her   wake.   party   queen,   hell   on   designer   heels,   intellectual   genius   &   trendsetter,   she’s   used   to   all   eyes   on   her,   jealous   girls   wanting   her   modelesque   looks   &   pining   man-children   she   wouldn’t   bat   an   eyelash   at.   the   attention   is   flattering   sometimes,   but   she   doesn’t   owe   anyone   anything   —   especially   not   under   this   circumstance.   a   spirit ,    her   asshole   ex   or   one   of   those   pathetic   underclassmen   ?   she   almost   adds   facetiously,   though   she   knows   just   who   taylor   is   talking   about   &   she’s   not   pleased.    ❛  believe   me,   i’m   used   to   being   followed   around   …   but   if   it’s   that    geeky,   dungeons-and-dragons    playing    STALKER   ?   i   think   i   could   use   an   escort,   ❜   instantaneously,   her   attitude   changes   from   pissed   off   to   saccharine   &   plush   lips   blossom   into   a   soft   smile.   lydia’s   not   used   to   being   looked   after   like   this,   feeling   disconnected   &   even   sidelined   by   her   girlfriends   sometimes.   this   is   really   nice   of   her.     ❛  hey  …   come   to   think   of   it,   why   don’t   you   sit   with   me   at   lunch,   too   ?  ❜ 

▌█ ∵   ╳   ∵ █ ▌    ❝Stalkers work in mysterious ways. Sometimes they want you to love them, other times you don’t want to know the reasoning. ❞ She wished she never did. But, a fraction of an ability to save someone from the night of horrors she had was all she wanted. The nice thing about Taylor however was her aura. The don’t come near me unless you want to die air that fell around her. This girl seemed like she didn’t really need it but you could never judge a book by its cover. That was learned the hard way two times in her life that left with her hands and body covered in blood. Perks of being a walking embodiment of a horror cliche she supposed. But, either way so far this girl was one of the few people in her life that really didn’t piss her off while they talked. ❝ I can’t tell what he’s thinking yet but, it’s not great usually when they start to establish a pattern that matches yours they're planning something. ❞ Lunch, she usually skipped lunch, too much anxiety was riddled in the big crowds of people. She would go hide in the bathroom, sit on the front steps hell even sit in the back corner of the library. But, this could go south, and it could go south quickly so it seemed like it was the best option to just go along with what she was suggesting. Offering the smallest smile, trying to show her but mostly the guy watching them she wasn’t going anywhere any time soon. ❝ Sure, I don’t usually eat lunch but that sounds nice. ❞

❝ they’re not going to listen. and then when it goes sideways i am going to have to save their asses.  ❞