Roy picked up the phone again.
"Hello, this is the Black residence!"
"Heh heh heh, Roy Black, were you just cursing in your head?"
The voice on the other end was the sa—low and distorted.
Roy was furious. This bastard had ruined his plans, and now he had the audacity to call?
"Who the hell are you? Even pranks have a limit!"
He started to suspect it was one of the people he'd kicked out of the party earlier, trying to get back at him with a prank call.
"Take a guess!"
"Guess my ass!"
Roy slamd the phone down. But before he could even take a breath, it rang again. Annoyed, he pressed the answering machine button.
"Hello, this is the Black residence. Please leave a ssage after the beep!"
Answering machines like this were popular in Arica during the '80s and '90s, but they beca obsolete once cell phones took over.
"Nidi, let's go."
"Roy, are you sure it's okay to ignore that call?"
"It's just a prank. Don't worry about it. Let walk you ho."
The two strolled through the streets of Falls Town. The place was deserted.
Small Arican towns like this shut down early—shops closed at night, with only the bars staying open.
Nidi's house wasn't far, just a ten-minute walk, or a few minutes by car. But Roy chose to walk.
He wanted to spend more ti with her.
And Nidi didn't mind at all. Walking side by side with Roy, she could feel his presence, his warmth.
After a few minutes, Roy decided the mont was right and gently took her hand.
Nidi flinched, instinctively trying to pull away. But she was too weak—Roy couldn't even tell if she was resisting or just testing his grip.
In the end, she let him hold her hand, her face turning bright red.
Good monts never last long.
Before Nidi knew it, they had reached her house.
"Huh? We're already here?"
Flustered, she turned to go inside—forgetting that Roy was still holding her hand. The sudden movent nearly sent her tumbling forward.
Luckily, Roy reacted fast, pulling her back in a smooth motion—almost like a waltz—catching her in his arms.
The unexpected twirl left Nidi montarily dazed.
"You okay, Nidi?"
"I-I'm fine! Thanks, Roy!"
She quickly pushed herself away, stumbling toward her house in embarrassnt.
Just as Roy was about to leave, he felt a strange sensation—like soone was watching him.
He turned his head just in ti to see a curtain being drawn across the window of the house across the street.
If he rembered correctly, that was Jennifer Morgan's house.
Right—Nidi and Jennifer were childhood friends, which explained why they were so close.
Roy shrugged it off and waved at Nidi.
"Sweet dreams, Nidi!"
"You too, Roy!"
Once she was safely inside, Roy turned to head ho.
The thought of cleaning up the ss from the party made him want to teleport back to his previous life.
What was the original owner of this body even thinking? Throwing a party at ho—wasn't he afraid of getting his ass handed to him by his parents?
Wait… this was Arica. Parents weren't allowed to hit their kids, right? Sothing about losing custody if they did?
Weird country. Schools could teach kids about LGBT stuff, but parents couldn't discipline their own children. Too much freedom, maybe.
As Roy reached his front door, he noticed sothing strange.
The living room lights were on.
But he was sure he had turned them off before leaving.
Did his parents co back early?
Considering this world already had *Jennifer's Body*, who knew what other weird shit existed?
To be safe, Roy decided to check the garage first.
If his parents' car was there, then it really was them.
But when he looked inside, he only saw his own second-hand yellow Chevy Camaro. His dad's BMW was nowhere in sight.
Soone had broken in.
Moving cautiously, Roy slipped inside through the garage door and crept toward the living room.
Nothing seed out of place—just the usual ss from the party.
But soone *had* been here.
He spotted the phone's receiver off the hook, with the speakerphone button pressed.
Who the hell breaks into a house just to ss with the landline?
Roy's mind imdiately went to the prank caller.
Could it be him?
As if to confirm his suspicion, the low, distorted voice crackled through the speaker.
"Oh, Roy Black, you're finally ho."
Roy's pupils shrank.
This psycho knew he was back. That ant he was watching—possibly from sowhere nearby.
The scene felt eerily familiar, like sothing straight out of a horror movie.
Damn it—why couldn't he rember which one?
"Listen, asshole, this prank is getting old. You'd better pray I don't find you."
He yanked the curtains shut, then unlocked a drawer with his key.
Inside was a Smith & Wesson M625 revolver.
A birthday gift from his dad when he turned eighteen.
Nothing unusual about that. In Texas, getting a gun for your birthday was as normal as getting a cake.
It *was* the most well-ard state in Arica, after all.
The weight of the revolver in his hand felt… familiar. Almost like an extension of his body.
That's when it clicked—this was Bob Munden's shooting talent kicking in. That guy must have been so kind of legendary marksman.
With a gun in hand, Roy felt his nerves settle.
"Heh heh heh, Roy… do you really think closing the curtains hides you from ? Let guess—you're looking for your gun?"
Sothing about the way the voice spoke sent a chill down Roy's spine.
Was this guy inside the house?
Roy's eyes scanned the living room.
The couch. The cabinet. Upstairs?
If he *was* hiding here, he would have heard everything Roy just said.
Roy didn't answer. Instead, he listened—trying to pinpoint where the voice was coming from.
But the speakerphone kept droning on, teasing him.
"Roy, how about we play a little ga of hide-and-seek? If you find … I'll let you *heh heh heh*."
(End of Chapter)
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