“So, have you and Jack finally done it?” The perky redhead playfully asks, poking her friend’s shoulder.

The girl next to her bites her lower lip and blushes. She’s very cute, with light brown hair and bangs hanging down over her forehead. She’s wearing a pair of pink shorts and a body-hugging grey tank top exposing part of her midriff.

She replies “God, Zoey. I told you, I don’t know if I’m ready yet. He’s great and all, but I’m really just trying to stay focused on school.”

Strangely, despite talking as if they’re teenagers, both girls look like they’re in their mid-twenties.

The redhead, Zoey, leans back onto the couch. “Well, don’t make him wait too long, Sam. You two are good together. Anyway, I have to get going. My mom needs me to grab some groceries.”

“Okay. See you in class tomorrow!” Samantha replies. The two girls briefly hug, then Zoey grabs her purse and departs.

The young brunette walks into the kitchen, and places a bag of popcorn in the microwave. Just as the appliance starts up, the house phone rings.

She answers it. “Hello?”

A flat, scratchy male voice replies. “Hello there. I’m looking for Samantha.”

Her brow furrows. “Speaking. Who is this?”

She hears the hint of a smile in the voice on the other end of the line. “Oh, just a secret admirer” he replies.

She smiles. “Oh, Jack. Is that you? Very funny.”

To her surprise, the man chuckles. “Wrong guess, sweetheart.”

Samantha feels her heart start to beat a little faster. “Oh…um, then who is this?” She asks.

“Like I said, a secret admirer” the unknown man replies. “But if you answer a question for me, maybe I’ll tell you.”

“Uh…no, thanks. Please don’t call again” she says, hanging up the phone.

Creep, she thinks, glancing at the timer counting down on the microwave.

A few moments later, the phone rings again. She looks down at the small screen and sees UNKNOWN CALLER displayed. Against her better judgement, she answers it.

“Hello?”

“That was a little rude, Samantha” the man accuses, a touch of hardness  now in his voice. “Do you hang up on all of your callers like that?”

“Listen, whoever you are, this isn’t cool. I don’t want to play whatever kind of game this is. Please leave me alone” she replies.

“Aw, I don’t mean to bother you. I just want to ask one question…”

She places her hand against her forehead in frustration. “One question? And then you’ll leave me alone?” She asks.

“Cross my heart” the man replies.

She sighs. “Fine. What is it?”

With a hint of menace in his voice, the man asks “What’s your favourite scary movie?”

“Yeah, I don’t really like scary movies. Sorry. Please don’t call back again.”

“Don’t you hang - “ the man starts, but his voice is cut off as she disconnects the call.

She barely has time to put the phone down before it rings again. UNKNOWN CALLER.

“Listen, creep!” She barks. “Stop harassing me, or I’m calling the cops!”

Now speaking in an evil-sounding tone, the man replies “Don’t you fucking hang up on me again, or I’ll gut you like a deer!”

Her stomach drops and she feels her hand start to shake. “That’s it! I’m calling the cops!”

She hangs up and dials 911. After a brief moment of silence, she hears an odd beeping sound, followed by the recorded message “We’re sorry, but outgoing calls cannot be completed at this time. Please hang up and try your call again.”

Starting to panic, she tries the call again, but hears the same message. Fuck, she thinks.

She returns to the living room and scours the couch. Where’s my fucking cell phone? She wonders, her heart beating faster.

Then, the house phone rings, and she lets out a fearful squeal.

Her hand trembling, she answers it. “What do you want from me?!” She pleads.

“Well, first I just wanted to talk. But then I told you what would happen if you hung up on me again…” the voice snarls.

With a frightened sob, she says “Please, just leave me alone!”

The man laughs. “Having trouble getting through to the cops?” He sneers. “And now you can’t even find your cell phone. You kids today are so dependent on your devices…”

“How do you know that? What did you do with my phone?” She shrieks.

“Maybe your friend Zoey stole it…” he replies, humour in his voice.

“She wouldn’t do that!” Samantha exclaims.

“Hmm, but are you sure that was really Zoey?” He asks, his voice laced with facetious concern.

“Wha…what?” She stammers.

In a low, threatening monotone, he replies “Go check the back patio.”

Terrified, she finds herself walking slowly over to the large French doors at the back of the house. She lifts a shaking hand and flips the switch for the outside light.

She screams at the sight on the other side of the glass.

What looks to be a perfect, deflated replica of Zoey’s face lies crumpled on the ground. Her long, reddish hair is splayed across the stone patio, and her empty eye sockets and mouth gape widely up at the sky.

Next to the vacant face, still dressed up in a navy sweatshirt, is what looks like the pretty redhead’s hollow torso. Pale, slender hands poke out from the ends of the arms, appearing deflated and flat. Next to the torso lies a pair of skin-coloured, padded shorts that extend down to just above the wearer’s knees. Sickeningly, they recreate the young woman’s nude groin and rear in perfect detail.

“What the FUCK!” Samantha shrieks, recoiling from the awful sight.

The man on the other end of the line lets out a sinister laugh. Then, in a perfect imitation of Zoey’s voice, he asks “So, have you and Jack finally done it?” Before breaking out into another fit of laughter.

Samantha’s mouth falls open in shock. That…that wasn’t Zoey? She thinks, horrified at the idea of being so unwittingly close to the man tormenting her. She feels equally horrified at knowing he’d been wearing some twisted disguise to impersonate her best friend.

“Such a pretty little thing” the man jeers. “I had fun being her…”

“You fucking freak! Leave me alone!” She wails, hanging up once again.

The doorbell rings, and she screams.

“Sam? Are you okay? I forgot my keys, can you let me in?” A girl calls out through the door.

Samantha recognizes her little sister’s voice, and a sense of relief washes over her. But that feeling is quickly replaced by one of fear, as she realizes it might not be her sister at all.

She approaches the front door carefully. She pushes the curtain aside, and peers through the window.

Sure enough, her sister appears to be standing on the front step, with her backpack on her shoulder. Her hair is tied back into a ponytail, and she’s wearing comfortable-looking workout clothes. Samantha remembers that her sister had soccer practice on Thursday nights, and feels a small sense of comfort.

“Nicole?” She softly inquires.

The girl outside frowns. “Uh, duh. Who else would it be?” She sees her sister through the glass. “Come on, let me in.”

“Um…” Samantha hesitates. “Sorry, but, can you tell me what I got you for your birthday last year?”

Nicole scowls. “What the hell, Sam? It’s cold out here. I’m not in the mood for some stupid game.”

Samantha’s heart hammers in her chest. “Sorry, Nic. I just really need you to answer the question. What did I get you for your birthday last year?”

Her sister appears frustrated and places her hands on her hips. But then, her face breaks out into an evil sneer.

“Oooh, clever girl. Someone’s a quick learner” she jeers.

Samantha gasps. Oh my God, now he looks just like Nicole! How the fuck is this possible?

The imposter, reading the look on her face, begins to laugh. But then, she adopts a frightened expression and pleads in her high-pitched voice “Please let me in, Sam! There’s a crazy killer out here!”

“You fucking bastard!” Samantha screams. “Why are you doing this? Take off that disguise!”

This only causes her fake sister to laugh harder. “Fine, I’ll take her off. But not because you asked. Your sister is so skinny, I feel like this suit is squeezing my insides” the imposter replies, lewdly groping her own body.

She disappears around the corner of the house, and Samantha waits a few moments to make sure she’s gone. Just as she’s about to ease the curtain back into place, her sister’s empty, gaping face is smashed against the window pane, and she screams.

The killer stands behind it, still wearing her sister’s body. But now, covering his face, is a mask of a white ghost, with a screaming expression and sagging eyes.

He presses the fleshy bundle against the window, his head tilting to the side in a taunting gesture. Her sister’s pink lips and button nose are scrunched together grotesquely as he presses the mask against the window. Her tight ponytail has started to come loose, and a few strands of light brown hair have fallen down to its open neck. The fake skin is unbelievably lifelike, painted to recreate every tiny feature of Nicole’s face, and she can clearly see the smooth interior of the rubbery mask through its gaping mouth.

“Oh my God!” Samantha screams, turning and running away. She rushes through the house, checking all the doors and windows. Satisfied that they’re all secured, she returns to the kitchen and grabs a knife from the block, then sinks down to the floor to hide.

She stays like that for five minutes, and then the phone rings again, causing her to shriek.

She looks down at the screen and sees DAVIS, JULIA, followed by her mother’s phone number.

Oh, thank God, Samantha thinks, relief washing over her.

She answers the phone. “Mom!”

“Samantha?” Her mother’s voice replies. “What’s going on? I haven’t been able to get through to the house and you’re not answering your cell.”

“Mom, there’s a man outside stalking me! He keeps calling and I can’t get through to the cops! He dressed up as Nicole to try to trick me!” Samantha shrills, the words seeming to not come out fast enough.

“Oh my God, are all the door and windows locked?” Her mom pleads.

“Yes! I just checked them all. I’m in the kitchen now, hiding.”

“I’m coming home right now” her mother states. “You…you said he dressed up as your sister?” She asks, confusion in her voice.

“Yes! He has these masks…mom, they look so real. He pretended to be Zoey and I had no idea. Then he disguised himself as Nicole, he even wore her workout clothes! It’s fucking terrifying!” She explains.

“Jesus, Samantha” her mother gasps.

“Wait, why don’t you hang up and call the cops! I’m still not sure I’ll be able to get through.”

“Well, I could, but then I wouldn’t be able to bury this shiny knife in your chest!” her mother replies, menacingly.

Samantha shrieks and almost drops the phone. “NO!” She screams. “STOP THIS! Leave me alone!”

The imposter on the other end of the line laughs using her mother’s voice. “But this is so much fun!” “She” retorts.

Sobbing, Samantha asks “Why…why do you have to use my mother’s voice, too?”

“Because I needed to distract you, so you wouldn’t hear me breaking in through the back door” the voice replies.

Samantha screams, and turns to run for the front of the house. But just as she reaches the door, a hooded figure steps out of the shadows and brings a blunt object down hard on the side of her head, and she collapses to the floor.

…

After an unknown amount of time, Samantha wakes, her head pounding from the violent blow. She finds herself seated in a chair, and as she tries to move, she discovers the thick tape binding her ankles and wrists. She looks up and screams in horror, at the sight of her tormentor, wearing a long black robe and ghost face mask.

“WHO ARE YOU?!” She shrieks.

The figure tilts his head to the side. Then, she watches with wide eyes as he lifts his hand to this face, and pulls off the mask.

“Hello, dear” the revealed woman jeers.

Samantha groans as she recognizes her mother’s smiling face, now gleefully being worn by her attacker.

“Take that fucking mask off” she squeaks, too terrified to raise her voice any further.

The imposter just smiles. “That’s right, I’m not really your mother. Wouldn’t that have been a twist?” She chirps. “I’m just borrowing her face for a little while. Like I’ve done with so many others…”

Her fake mother strokes her own cheek tenderly, running her other hand through her dark, wavy hair. Then, she reaches into a large black bag and pulls out a mass of reddish hair and flesh-like material.

She holds it up, smiling proudly, enjoying the Samantha’s reaction at seeing her best friend’s hollow, sagging face. Stroking the mask’s long mane, she continues:

“You already know about my little impersonation of Zoey here. I managed to get some useful information out of that one. After all, who does a teenage girl confide in more than her BFF?” the imposter smirks. “Plus, her freckles are so adorable” She prods the soft, empty cheek playfully, before dropping the mask onto the kitchen table with a thwap.

She pulls another, this one a brunette, out of her bag. “And, of course, your sporty little sister here…” Thwap.

“I also learned some nice, intimate details while wearing this face” the fake mother states, pulling another bundle out. She shakes it out roughly, and holds it up by its medium-length brown hair.

Samantha lets out a short sob at the sight of her boyfriend Jack’s deflated face. His strong jaw, stubble, and arched eyebrows…all recreated in exact detail. The imposter jiggles the mask playfully. “You know, you really are a good kisser” she jokes, before tossing the mask on top of Nicole.

Samantha just glares, straining against her bonds.

The fake Julia continues her twisted presentation. “But you’re always so reluctant to discuss your plans for the future. To get that, I had to spend some time as this bitch.”

Again, out of the bag, she pulls out an object by its mop of curly blonde hair. Samantha’s eyes widen as she recognizes the artificially tanned, slightly overweight face of her guidance counsellor, Mrs. Taylor.

“She’s so nosy, isn’t she? A particularly useful quality for my purposes…”

She plants a sardonic kiss on the mask’s floppy cheek, before dropping it onto the table with another thwap.

“You fucking psychopath!” Samantha snarls.

The imposter laughs. “Yes, well, I could keep going, but I think we should move the plot along, shouldn’t we?”

Her “mother” slips her hand inside the neckline of the dark, tattered costume. She peels up a flap of skin-coloured material and pulls it upwards. Samantha’s eyes widen as the fake flesh peels away, and the imposter’s chin snaps upwards into her mouth.

“Oops, can’t let you see!” She states, walking around the captive girl, her words slightly muffled by the distorted mask. Samantha strains in her chair, turning her head, but she can’t see behind her. She hears rubbery, sucking sounds as the mask separates, followed by a loud POP.

Then, without warning, the entire flopping mass lands in Samantha’s lap. Her mother’s empty face gapes up at her, wavy hair hanging down her legs, and she screams.

She kicks her legs, sending the disturbing mask flying onto the floor.

The imposter laughs, still using her mother’s voice. He comes around the chair, once again wearing the ghost face mask to disguise his true identity.

“Careful, don’t rip it!” He chides. “I spent a lot of time on these…” He picks up the mask of her mother’s face and plops it down onto the table with the others.

Samantha sobs again. “Why are you doing this?! Tell me!!”

He laughs in her mother’s voice again. “All right. I suppose I’ve had my fun. You see, this is all about doing something new” he explains, rummaging around in his bag. “People in these movies always spend so much time trying to figure out who the killer is. And it’s always so predictable. But the one thing they all have in common…no one ever suspects the main character!”

Horrified, she watches as he holds up a hollow, quivering replica of her own face. Her pink, pouty lips. Delicate, slender nose. Her soft brown bangs. Every little detail, perfectly replicated.

“Don’t worry, dear. I’ll do a much better job of being you. While I’m offing your friends one by one!” The imposter growls.

Samantha lets out a terrified scream, and the last thing she sees is the light glinting off of the knife, as the killer swings it down towards her.

PAUSE

A young man and woman are sitting on a couch, in front of a large television. The man holds a remote in his hand, and is pointing it at the screen.

The man rolls his eyes “Oh, come on, now we’re supposed to believe in perfectly lifelike masks? This franchise has totally gone off the rails.” He drops the remote onto the couch.

His companion twirls a lock of blonde hair in her fingers. “Oh, stop it!” She replies, swatting his arm playfully. “This is, like, my new favourite Halloween movie. It gets better, I promise!”

“Fine, but I’m going to need a beer to get through this. And some popcorn.”

He gets up from the couch, grumbling under his breath. “What a stupid movie…”

When he leaves, the blonde stops fiddling with her hair. Her bubbly expression becomes stern, and her eyes narrow into an angry glare.

She slips her hand into the side of the couch cushion, and pulls out a knife with a long, shiny blade.

“I’ll show you…” she snarls. She lifts her hand to her neck, scratching at an invisible seam.

“Hey, babe?” She calls out to the young man in the other room. “Can I ask you a question…?”

Slowly, her pretty face scrunches upwards…