Happy Friday the 13th! It’s release day for a series of horror short stories revolving around Friday the 13th. Today, I’m pleased to welcome myself with my story, Mister 13…
While writing this story, I researched the dates for past Friday the 13ths and used the actual date for each year that was mentioned. One of the dates I used was January 13, 1984…which happens to be the date I got married. And, it was on a Friday the 13th. And, we divorced nearly 13 years later…coincidence or were otherworldly forces at work? 😀
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Psychologist Giselle Bishop is treating a patient who suffers from friggatriskaidekaphobia, a fear of Friday the 13th. When he was younger, his family was murdered on Friday the 13th by an unknown killer dubbed Mister 13 by the media. Since then, he’s been terrified to leave his house on the dreaded date. She understands his fear because years earlier, her roommate fell victim to Mister 13.
With another Friday the 13th approaching, Giselle convinces him to overcome his fear by facing the very day that paralyzes him, so he reluctantly ventures out. But when she sees a news report that a young woman was found murdered by someone with the same MO as Mister 13, she understands she has made a grave error and her patient is right to believe he is in danger. But he’s not the only one, because now Mister 13 is coming after her.
She answered the call, and Lydia cried out, “Did you hear what happened?”
Dread gripped her. “No, what is it? Are you okay?”
“Someone was killed…in your house. Yours and Darcy’s old house. The girl who lives there now was murdered. Tonight. Someone called it in to the media. Not even 911. They called the news station.”
The sentences rushed out, piling on top of one another in a panicked jumble.
“Oh my God,” Giselle gasped. “That’s horrible. Do they know who did it yet?”
“No,” Lydia said. “But I’m pretty sure it was Mister 13.”
“What? Why do you say that? Are the details the same?”
“I don’t know. They haven’t said much yet. But, come on, Friday the 13th. At your old house. I just know it was him.”
Giselle grabbed the remote and flipped over to a local news channel. The sportscast was on, but the story scrolled along the bottom, ‘Breaking news, a young woman was found dead in her home after a tip was called in to our station. Details are sketchy at this time, but it appears the victim was stabbed multiple times. Police are not releasing whether they were connected, but thirteen years ago, a young woman was murdered in this same house by an unknown killer. Police suspect it was the work of the serial killer known as Mister 13. Again, we are unsure if this latest killing is by the same person. More details as they become available.’
“Oh God,” Giselle murmured. Her mind went to Everett. She’d finally convinced him to face his fears, to venture out on this dreaded date, and the first time he summons the courage to do so, another tragic murder happens.
“I’m sorry, Lydia. I’ve got to go. Let me know if you learn anything else. Talk to you soon.”
She hung up and dialed Everett. The call went straight to voicemail. “Everett, please call me as soon as you get this. I just want to make sure you’re okay.” She hung up without mentioning the murder. If he was out and heard about it, he’d be terrified.
Fear settled in the pit of her stomach. It was irrational to think something would happen to him…the murder had nothing to do with Everett, but rational or not, she couldn’t quell the worry. And she wouldn’t rest until she knew Everett was okay.
Alicia Dean began writing stories as a child. At age 10, she wrote her first ever romance (featuring a hero who looked just like Elvis Presley, and who shared the name of Elvis’ character in the movie, Tickle Me), and she still has the tattered, pencil-written copy.
Other than reading and writing, her passions are Elvis Presley (she almost always works in a mention of him into her stories) and watching a LOT of television, which she calls research so it doesn’t appear that she’s wasting time.
Find all 13 stories at this link: A Friday the 13th Story #3