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Hey peeps! Been a while! I just really need some time to unwind up and get more sleep. I know, I'm seriously a potato XD

So as promised, here is the update! My birthday's tomorrow (October 4) omg! I'm feeling old already LOL!

So anyway, enjoy reading all and I'll post the schedule for the next update on my message board! See you all next time! ^_^

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CHAPTER 14: Jayson Song

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October 16, 2018 (6:00 PM)

The sun was setting down; the afternoon sky that was once a hot beige before was now a mixed shade of gloomy, iris purple and indigo—sundown was settling in for the coming evening.

Amanda walked along the sidewalks in utter silence, just admiring the cool air that brushed past her skin, leaving its chilly kiss against her nape that made the hair around her body dance in sync. Her eyes wandered around the view of the town surrounding her. There were a lot fewer people and no vehicles crowding the streets this time around. Some of the stores and other buildings with conveniences we're closing up too.

She felt the ambiance that the curfew had brought upon. She couldn't blame the townsfolks for doing what they need to do at this hour; she would most likely trap herself in her home too—if she had one—and make sure that it's fully secured from Amberlyn's notorious masked killer.

What an impact did that psychotic individual left upon.

Amanda was on her way back to Dane's apartment after an hour of just strolling around town to kill some time.

As she paced further down the sidewalk, she felt her phone vibrated in her jean pockets. She pulled the device out, her eyes glued upon an incoming call from the young cop.

"Dane, what's up?" Amanda greeted, her feet continued to trudge forward.

"Hey, just wanna check up on 'ya," Dane greeted back, "how are ya' holding up?"

"I'm okay. I just took a stroll around outside."

"Hey, there's still a killer running around somewhere. Ya' should be extra careful."

"I know. Don't worry, I'm alright and untouched."

"Good. By the way, I just want to tell ya' I'm not gonna be home early."

She abruptly stopped from her tracks. "Huh? Why's that?"

"I'm up next to patrol around town tonight during curfew hours with the other fellas. Chief instructed me so. It would take all night," the young cop filled.

"All right, I understand." The small gal replied understandingly with a nod afterward.

"Almost forgot. The key is under the doormat. Leave it where it is once you get the door unlocked, alright?"

"Okay, got it."

There was a short silence between them. None of them tried to utter another word. But Amanda—she could sense Dane wanted to say something else. She could feel it, but yet, she chose to wait for him to reply.

"Hey, Amanda?"

"Yeah?"

"Please take care of yourself, clear?"

Amanda smiled.

"I will."

And their little call ended. Her eyes stared up upon the sky ahead. It was almost dark; just another hour or two, and night time was all ready to make its reign.

Thinking about it, Amanda, just now, digested the fact that she would be spending the night alone. Again.

Just the mere thought of it made her unsettled slightly. The last time she was alone, someone deliberately tried to end her life. Everything else after that spiraled around her like a tornado; one terrible thing after another kept surprising her. Of course, she wasn't the only tenant in the apartment building where Dane currently stayed; she had neighbors and such over there. She shouldn't feel like she was alone. But still, she wasn't oh-so confident about her security tonight.

"Are you going to  stay there and keep staring at the sky or what?"

She heard a not-so-familiar voice from beside her. She tilted her head to that direction, her eyes caught sight of a boy with a pair of glasses starting at her with a bored look.

"Oh! I'm s-sorry, I'm sorry," she sheepishly apologized to the recognizable face, "I'm probably blocking your path, my bad."

"It's alright," the boy casually replied.

"I recognize you... you're that—"

"that boy you saw at the crime scene this morning? Yes, you got it right."

She felt her cheeks blushed an embarrassed, hot red. So he was actually aware that he was being watched? Now that made it just a bit more awkward for Amanda to take. Not like she meant anything about that, however.

"I'm sorry, I was kind of interrogative from that part," the boy sighed, "my bad. It's Kieffer by the way," he reintroduced.

"A-Amanda..." she reluctantly uttered, rubbing her arm to dissipate the uneasiness that she felt.

"You're that girl with the memory loss—the one that was brought here after... an accident."

the corners of her eyebrows met as her gaze magnetized toward him.

"How did you know?" She interrogated, defensiveness in her tone.

He shrugged. "It's only what I majorly heard around the university—basically around town. You're one of the hot topics, you're just probably not aware of it."

Of course. She had to be one of the center subjects of Amberlyn's daily gossip headlines; Samara had told her already about one of the habits—probably culture in her own view—that the townsfolks possessed.

"Right, I get that..." she trailed off, diverting her eyes away from him, "look, I have to go back home now, it's already late. Curfew's coming soon. Bye."

Amanda started pacing forward, leaving the boy named 'Kieffer' at once. Not even five steps away, and she thought she heard Kieffer muttered something.

"You really don't remember me...?"

She stopped in her tracks and turned around, approaching Kieffer with feeble steps.

"Excuse me?" She uttered.

"You really don't remember who I am, Amanda?" He repeated, his tone had a hint of inexplicable sadness in it.

She blinked a couple of times. Did she know this guy? No. Did she ever meet him before? No—maybe, maybe not—she wasn't so sure.

"I'm... sorry," she stuttered, "I can't really remember anything..."

"Right, right, " he chuckled, more to himself cynically, "you have memory loss. Of course, idiot me."

"I'm sorry if I can't remember... I just... have a lot of things on my back this lately."

"It's alright," he assured with a smile, "I better get going too. My apologies."

And there she watched as he started walking away from her, hands in his jean pockets.

She was left with a peculiar feeling. How that guy knew her, she would never know just yet.

Who was he?

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Jayson's eyes fluttered open when he felt someone softly shaking his shoulder. He looked up, seeing a middle-aged woman in her vintage-style ruffle dress, giving him concerned eyes.

That was when he finally realized that he fell asleep in the library. No other people besides the two of them were present inside the vicinity. It was quiet—not the usual quietness in an occupied library, however. His gaze landed upon the large clock on the wall, reading the time passed '6:15 PM'.

"Are you doing fine, Jayson?" The middle-aged woman asked, the rasp audibly present in her tone but nonetheless, remained soothing and friendly.

"I'm okay, Miss Fulver," Jayson politely answered with a nod, "how long was I knocked out?" He asked.

"Longer than how'd you imagine it." the old woman said with a hearty chuckle.

This caused the boy to wince. He was not aware that he just had full sets of hours of sleep in the library, out of all places.

"Ugh, how come I can't sleep for as long as this back at home?"

"I know you're irritated'n all for falling sleep in here for hours," the woman stated with heartiness, going back to the librarian counter, "but it ain't a big of a deal for me. You always slept your way in this quiet place when stressed and all," she then flipped a page over a novel she was reading, "and it's all fine to me, it ain't a crime. After all, I know well enough you need those plentiful amounts of shut-eye." And a lighthearted chuckle escaped out of her mouth once again as she flipped to another page.

Jayson stood up to his feet, stretching his arms a bit before letting out a yawn. He was about to make his way toward the library entrance when he was stopped from his tracks by the librarian's calling voice.

"Hol' up there young man."

Jayson tilted his head around.

"Almost forgot t' give you this."

The lady then reached out a small, brown envelope from underneath her counter before handing it over to Jayson, much to the latter's curiosity.

"What's this?" He asked, examining the envelope with met eyebrows.

"I dunno," the old lady replied with honesty, her slightly-wrinkled face painted with the word 'clueless' all over, "some youngster about your age or two came here a few hours ago, said I should give you whatever inside that envelope was."

And that left him easily puzzled.

"What's that fella's name, Miss Fulver?"

The old lady started making a face as if she was struggling to recall something.

"My, I can't really remember them face or name," the old woman admitted with full honesty in her gaze.

This further mystified Jayson. He wondered who the person was. How he wished the librarian could remember at least the person's name.

"Thanks." Jayson thanked the old lady, "I'll be going now, Miss Fulver. It's getting kinda late," he added further before finally making his way for the glass door.

"Curfew's gonna be in a couple of minutes," he heard the lady hollered from behind him, "you pray none would be unfortunate enough to get caught by the killer t'night. God knows what that monster would do next."

The unsettling chill crawled up to Jayson's spine after he heard what the old woman told him. He ignored it at his best and he made his way out of the library immediately.

And as if it would even help him ease up, Jayson found himself facing the dark, narrow hallway. The only functioning light from above the ceiling kept flickering abnormally, a sign for the light stick in need of replacement. The dead silence that the confining space possessed was no help in making the boy comfortable; at best, it made him itch from his feet in unsettlement. The suffocating area was, in no doubt, eerie-looking.

"Why the fuck did they even thought of putting the library in the basement area, out of all places?" He mumbled as he walked warily, "who's even the dumbass who architected this spot?"

While walking down the hallway, Jayson couldn't help but felt this uncanny sensation dwell inside his mind. The absolute silence around him was bothersome as he went further. It was as if a pair of eyes were stalking him somewhere nearby.

It was exactly how he felt ever since that night.

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October 14, 2018

"Dude, where the heck are you?"

"Calm your butt cheeks down, Geoffrey. I'm on my way."

"Pfft, yeah if 'I'm on my way' roughly translates to 'I'm just about to head for the shower' in your definition, I'd really be antsy as hell."

"Man, I'm literally just a block away from your location. Just wait."

"You better be."

"Why? Scared to be alone somewhere cold and dark?"

"Funny, man."

"Better watch out. There might be someone hiding around the corner."

"Ha. Ha. Just hurry up, dude. We still need to go to Samara at the hospital."

He hung up the call, putting back his cellphone inside one of the pockets of his trousers. He walked casually along the sidewalk, both hands inside his hoodie pockets. His eyes warily wandered left and right from time to time even if there was nothing to be wary about. The night had already settled in, and there were no signs of any civilians still roaming around town. Most of the buildings that surrounded him all had their lights off.

It was quiet. The only thing he could hear was the echo of his footsteps against the pavement, and the wind that continued to whistle as it brushed past him.  Nevertheless, the ambiance did not irk him.

"Damn, this town's always cold," he commented to himself when the freezing wind flew past him for another time.

As he walked forward, he stopped.

Eventually, Jayson had now reached the intersection; he would just have to walk straight for another five minutes before he could get to his friend's location. Like the rest of the town, the intersection was empty and no presence of anyone else was noticed.

Except it wasn't empty at all.

"What in the..."

His eyes fixated upon what seemed to be a human figure standing from the other side of the pavement where he intended to go through. The orange street lamps illuminated a good portion of the figure's presence. They were wearing an olive-colored hoodie—with the hood up. It was the first noticeable feature that Jayson was aware of.

"Hey there...?"

The figure stood there idly, their back facing him. Jayson felt something under the pit of his stomach. His conscience kept telling him to get away from whoever was standing from the other side of the streets. It felt wrong. Something was off.

"Hey, dude, if you're gonna cross—"

His mouth locked in a gap, his eyes focused upon the figure who had begun turning their head slowly around.

They turned their head in a slow manner until it stopped just exactly to the position of their shoulders.

His gaze landed upon the fairly, thick, long strands of ash gray hair hanging free and swaying.

"Holy shit..."

That hair color. He knew exactly one person who would have that kind of hair color. The length, the strands, the texture—it was all too familiar for him.

And the name echoed in his mind. It caused him to feel this undeniable dread. This person standing a couple of feet away from him—he knew exactly who it was.

And that was what made him feel the genuine fear a lot more.

"Hey!"

In just a split millisecond, the hooded figure began dashing away from Jayson. His first action was to follow the figure. He ran, exerting every energy that he got, badly eager to catch up with the figure, and unveil their identity.

He ran and ran, but the figure was much faster than he had expected, but that didn't mean he wasn't going to put up a good sprint. He ran and ran, not even caring an ounce if his breathing were heavy and lacking. Until he catches the figure, Jayson had no plans to stop running.

But the figure proved unmatchable; they had mysteriously disappeared once they took a left turn to an alley.

"Where are you...?" He muttered to himself, almost breathlessly.

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He tilt his head a little from behind, spotting nobody there.

"Get your shit together. Stop being a wuss."

Ever since that night, things weren't the same for him anymore. He knew 'that' person didn't exist no more. To see the said individual that specific night? It changed his narrative about the situation that was ongoingly happening around him. The murders. the hooded figure. The photo from the anonymous number—at least it was for his friends.

What they didn't know was that Jayson, on the other hand, knew exactly who that number belonged to.

And that was why he went on ahead to go back to the university instead of staying with his friends to watch the devastating crime scene that they had witnessed by the morning a while ago.

Jayson was being paranoid, he wouldn't deny that to himself. But this lingering fear, as confident as he would say it out loud, seemed to be in the right, justifiable place. He had every right to feel like this—to fear for his life. The exclusivity of being able to witness these events meant one thing for him.

He might be next.

He shrugged the feeling off with a slight shake of his head. He didn't want to think about it.

As he rounded a corner from the right, Jayson felt his chest loosened up as he finally spotted the flight of stairs that will lead him to the university's main lobby.

As Jayson began ascending the stairs, he felt a continuous burst of vibrations from his pocket. His hand automatically snaked its way inside one of his pockets, successfully pulling out his phone without effort.

Without trying to shot his phone screen a glance, Jayson accepted the incoming call and placed the device beside his ear.

"Hey, Jayson!" The cheerful voice of Charissa was heard from the other line, "where the heck are you? Me and Geoff were looking for you all day and we haven't seen a hair nor a tail from you?"

"God that voice is annoying." Jayson faked a groan after, "I just fell asleep from the library. Same old, same old."

"Good one. By the way! I slid something inside your locker before I left around the univ'. It's a little surprise."

"Okay, what is it this time?"

"You won't know if you won't take a look at it," Charissa said with a playful tone, letting out a hearty giggle after, "I just got the feeling you're still around here in school. I was planning to tag Geoff along, but that little beeyotch just wanted to sleep his lazy butt on the bed. So I went solo instead."

"Alright, alright. I'm going to the west halls, see you around."

"Bye!"

And the call ended. Jayson stood there for a moment to take some of his time to shot a glance upon the windows along the halls. The sun was almost down. The sky was of a dark, purplish, shade with a faint mixture of orange. The evening was there, and night time was about to approach in. He didn't want to be out on the streets at these late hours, not when the majority of the town folks were already shutting themselves inside the comfort of their respective homes at this time.

Jayson went and walked down the halls hurriedly. The hallways were quiet, and the echo of his footsteps against the tiled floors supported that eerie silence. He started to sense the same uncanny feeling once again. Like before, he felt like someone was watching his every movement. He turned around, and all Jayson's eyes could see was nothing but thin air.

There was nobody there.

The slight nervousness started to crawl up in his head. He's alone. School's closed. He shouldn't be afraid at all, but he couldn't.

He felt like somebody else was with him.

He fastened his pace along the halls. He was walking so fast that he didn't even expect to reach the west parts of the halls in just a matter of finger-counted seconds.

He rounded a corner, and there he spotted his locker where it was exactly located.

Upon approaching the row of lockers, Jayson's gaze landed upon a piece of paper attached against the tall lid of his personal metallic cabinet.

He pulled the paper off with questioning eyebrows, reading its content.

'Open your locker if you dare, a piece of a secret will soon light its flare.'

The randomness of the note puzzled him. Curiously, he unlocked the code of his lock before pulling the metal lid open.

His eyes squinted, scanning the insides of his locker. There were stacks of books and notebooks all lined up in an organized fashion. Some of his papers and quizzes were all stacked up accordingly with a rubber band. Everything was in perfect order except—

"Huh?"

His eyes noticed a small, white envelope sandwiched in-between his stacks of books. He was sure that the object was not inside his locker before. He was certain of it.

"This is probably what Charissa was talking about."

His hand slowly reached out for the white envelope, pulling it out before examining it. Red sharpie was written over the white surface of the material, the sentence ' A Little secret from Aflare Minidoc' sketched upon the surface.

"That name."

He wasn't dreaming. He recognized that name. And just the mere thought of remembering caused him the shiver. It prompted him to feel a tight feeling in his chest.

Jayson's curiosity peaked, and he wanted to know what was inside the envelope. He opened the said object and tucked his hand inside. He pulled out another piece of folded paper from inside. Judging by the surface, he assumed it was a photograph.

He unfolded the photo, and his eyes were immediately painted with bewilderment.

In the photo, there were three, young, individuals smiling, standing side by side with one another. 

His gaze diverted upon the two, young, females. The uneasiness made its presence known to him; his muscles tensed when he recognized who the two girls were.

"This is Crystal and Samara..."

His eyes went next to the guy with a faded buzz cut standing in between the sisters. He was taller, an inch or two, with a fit build. His broad shoulders also emphasized the masculinity that he possessed. His smile flashed a set of well-aligned teeth. He had a nose with a rather, noticeable size. His puffy cheeks were also given emphasis thanks to his smile.

Jayson never recognized who the young man was. Not once in his life. It was a mystery for him what this man's probable relationship with the sisters was.

Beep!

His phone started vibrating from his pocket. A low groan escaped out of Jayson's mouth before he pulled his phone out.

His forehead crooked in slight irritation upon seeing the caller ID belonging to Charissa. With a slight huff, Jayson placed his phone beside his ear.

"Hey Jayson," the young blonde greeted from the other line, "I just decided to check up on you."

"Charissa, where the heck are you?" Jayson questioned the young blonde in an annoyed voice, not even bothering to greet her back for a moment, "what's with the random photo you stuck inside my locker?"

"What?" Charissa uttered in light disbelief, a chuckle escaped from the other line, "seriously Jayson, what are you sayi-"

"Just get to the point with me. Did you put the white envelope inside my locker? You're trying to scare me, aren't you?"

And silence filled the other line. It took a full minute before Charissa was able to spit another word out.

"Jayson, what are you talking about?"

"Well you just called me a while ago. You said you slid something inside my locker, and here I am getting uneasy and crap because eventually—" his eyes diverted upon the photo again for a slight second, "you decided to get creepy and place an old photo of Samara, Crystal and some guy inside my locker, which by the way I do not know about, and I'm here trying to decipher it in Scooby-doo style."

Another silence raided the other line.

"Jayson," Charissa muttered, her once jolly voice now replaced with serious nervosity, "I already left school around five... and I never called you, not until right now."

"Oh, and what do you call this numbe—"

Jayson scrolled through his phone log while his friend was explaining, and to his surprise and fright, his other most recent call came from a different number.

***2466455
10/16/18 (6:25 PM)

The number was the same one that had sent him the photo this morning.

The number belonged to Bethany's.

"Jayson, I swear I didn't call you before." 

"Wh-what do you mean?" 

"I never called you before... just now... and I never put any photo inside your locker."

And the chills worsened. The beat from Jayson's heart turned into violent pounds. He knew well Charissa wasn't joking from the other line. He knew well of the line between his female friend joking and being deadly serious. And at the moment, he could feel she was being absolutely frank with her statement.

"Jayson?"

The boy remained speechless, nearly frozen to his spot as one possibility came into his mind:

What if the person who had previously called him wasn't Charissa at all?

"Jayson, stop scaring me. What's going on? Answer me!"

Jayson's ears soon detected the sound of eerie whistling from his right. His gaze slowly landed to the direction of the sound, the color within his face turned ghostly pale the moment he spotted a masked person standing no more than twenty feet away from him.

His eyes grew wide, his feet felt frozen when he recognized that white, latex mask around the person's head. His gaze soon landed upon the cold appearance of a hatchet around the person's hand. He knew exactly who that was. That living nightmare of Samara. That monster that she told him about at one point. That walking demon that wanted to play with his friends with their deadly plans.

That psychotic murderer was standing there, real and in the flesh, with their murder weapon ready.

"Jayson!"

And all that was heard from the blonde girl's line was the chilling sounds of Jayson's terrified screams.

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Y'all thought it ended there? This is just the beginning of a bloody game. See you in the next update. >:)