Chapter 1: Wrong Number

Casey Becker danced around the living-room in a pale, pink dress singing along to a Spice Girls song that was roaring over the radio, "I'll tell you what I want, what I really, really want…" she screamed, spinning around in a circle. Her voice sounded awful, as she was tone-deaf, "Wait a second," she whispered, stopping herself before she jumped up in the air, and turning off the radio, "It's 1996-- I don't think the Spice Girls are around yet-- oh well," so she resumed dancing.

It was then that the telephone rang.

"Ooh…" she whispered, approaching it, "How scary."

It rang a second time, and she picked it up, "Hello?" she screamed, pressing the receiver into her ear.

"Hello," came a scary and seductive voice from the other end.

"Hello?" Casey screamed, sounding more annoying and screechy upon repeating herself.

"God, shut up."

"Yes," Casey responded, pausing to pick her nose.

"Who is this?"

"I can't tell you…" Casey whispered, "Mommy and Daddy say I'm not supposed to say my name to strangers-- even when they offer me candy," she pouted, "I like candy."

"I see," the man replied.

"It's past my bedtime, Mister. You see, I'm supposed to be in bed at seven thirty, but tonight, I was given permission to stay up until my parents came back home-- it's already seven forty-five!" she grinned a genuine grin at her cleverness, and began twirling her blonde hair.

"How old are you, little girl?" the killer asked, adopting a gentle tone; now believing he was dealing with a child.

"Seventeen-- but the doctors say I have the mentality of a five year old-- whatever that means," she sighed, "Do you think I'm pretty."

"Yes-- yes I do."

"Yea! I'm gonna go dance now. BYE!"

She hung up the phone, and true to her word, continued dancing. The phone rang again, and she stared at the Caller ID; it read KILLER. A wide smile formed across her face, "It's him," she breathed, and she picked it up to answer again, "Hi, Mr. Killer!"

"Hi," he replied.

"I'm glad you called me back-- I knew you would! You're nice… I hope I can meet you sometime, and make you dance with me-- I like to dance."

"Uh-huh. Okay. Enough with the dancing, Casey."

"Aww. I'm gonna go watch a scary movie-- WITHOUT YOU!"

"Don't-- what's your favorite?"

"I don't know," she replied, looking through her video collection, and picking up a movie entitled The Magical Adventure of the Unicorns who danced on Rainbows. She smiled at the title, "You have to have a favorite," he insisted.

"Uh… THE WIZARD OF OZ. You know, the one with the girl who has red shoes, and dances around-- that mean witch is scary. What's yours?"



"Is that the one with the dinosaurs who sing?"

"Yeah… Littlefoot."

"Littlefoot-- that's right. I liked that movie. It was," he hesitated on the next word, deciding to play along, "scary."

"The first one was, but the rest were horrifying."

"So, you got a boyfriend?"

"I did--" her face fell, "--but then, he left me for that slut, Pam Mackey… So, I killed him-- then I killed her. But, nobody knows, so shh."

"Your secret's safe with me."

"Yay!" she cheered, "Why? You wanna ask me out?"

"Maybe, but you never told me your name."

"Why do you want to know my name?"

"Because I want to know who I'm looking at."

Casey spun around, and stared outside, seeing the masked Killer holding a cell phone, and chatting while sitting on a lawn-chair, "Is that you?" she asked.

"Yeah… You like?"

"You're hot. I like you."

"Good-- I'm gonna kill you now."

He hung up, "What? WHAT?" Casey dialed the number back. He answered, "Did you say you were gonna kill me?"

"Uh-huh. You getting scared?"

"No. Tired. I'm usually go beddy-bye at this time."


"I'm tired. I wanna go sleepy."


"But, I'm--"

"No," he repeated, firmly.

"Listen, asshole."

"I'm gonna kill you now. Bye."


"Geesh. Chill out, dude. Chill out."

He hung up again. Casey was angry now-- and hyper. She was angryper! "NO ONE CALLS ME DUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUDE!" she wailed, shaking the house with her screams.

She dialed again, "Apologize, asshole," she hissed.

"For what? Is this some kind of joke?"

"No… More of a game, really," she smiled, wickedly.

"What kind of game?" the Killer asked.

"Here's how we play," she whispered, "I ask a question. If you get it right, you live. Answer wrong, you die-- and I eat your brain."

"Please don't do this-- I'll leave you alone. I promise."

"Come on. It'll be fun," Casey whispered.

"No… please."

"It's an easy category. Movie trivia. I'll even give you a warm up question," she paused, thinking of a question to stump him, "Name the Witch of the North in THE WIZARD OF OZ."

"I don't know," he whispered, now on the verge of tears.

"Come on, yes you do."

"Please… stop..." he was sobbing now. Casey grinned.

"Tell me… Or I'll kill you now, Mister Crazy Psychotic Evil Killer."

His voice, now a whisper answered her, "Glinda… Glinda the Good."


The Killer sighed, relieved.

"Now for the real question."


"But you're doing so well."

"How many Land Before Time movies are there as of now?"


"Wrong answer," Casey hissed, disgusted.

"No. There are three. My little cousin made me watch all of them twenty times in a row!"

"Then you should know that there are four-- counting the one that was released today."

"You tricked me."

"Yep… Now, you die, Mr. Grouchy Pants!" she shrieked an inhuman shriek, and brandished a long butcher knife she had been hiding in her bra.

The Killer; still sitting on the chair outside got up and began running, with Casey in hot pursuit, "I'm gonna eat Brain Soup tonight!" Casey screamed, cornering him, and making angry stabbing motions with the knife, "Wait a second," he whispered, "You don't have to do this. You can join me, and together, we can rule… California."

"Hmm," Casey thought, thinking; drool came out of her mouth, and five minutes later, she had an aneurism, from thinking too much, and died.

"SUCCESS!" the Killer screamed, and left the spot; five weeks later, when they discovered her body two inches away from the house, Casey's parents held a party to celebrate.