Chapter Text
Laura Crane let out a big, exasperated sigh. It was 8:05 pm, and she had not heard from her absentee Tinder date in the last 30 minutes. Laura already hated having to resort to dating apps, and the idea of being ghosted made her stomach start to sink. “5 more minutes and I’m out of here.” Laura grumbled under her breath.
Laura was an attractive woman. Her small frame was inviting, and her face was kind and soft. Her demeanor, even while annoyed, was sweet and carefree, unusual for a college professor struggling to make ends meet. Even so, she made sure to dress up for the occasion, albeit a first date. Any stranger could pick her out in the bar; her neatly pinned-up hair and yellow skin-tight dress were eye-catching. Still it seemed, not even a stranger, let alone her Tinder date, had any interest in drinking with her.
A few minutes passed, and even Laura’s drink order couldn’t hold her interest. “Fuck it, I can find someone somewhere els-”, Laura’s phone sprang alive, buzzing to a beat in the palm of her soft hand. “Fucking finally.” she muttered. In a short moment, the corners of her mouth pulled to a smile, and her voice raised in pitch.
“Hello…? Is this Jason?” she asked with an eyebrow raised.
A man’s voice answered; clearly timid in nature, but soft and masculine.
“Yes! Hello! Sorry I’m late, I’ve never been to this bar before… I think I might be a little lost.”
Laura’s disposition changed, if only for a moment, to roll her eyes and rub her hand across her forehead.
“Oh, that’s okay! I’m just glad you called me, for a moment there I thought you were ghosting me or something.”
She cringed immediately after saying that, recoiling back into her barstool seat.
“Well, truth be told I’m a little nervous meeting you. I’ve never dated a teacher before.” He chuckled awkwardly into the phone.
“You’re a film studies professor, right?”
A small smirk formed on Laura’s face, “Yes, that’s correct. I’m currently teaching a class on modern slashers.”
“Oh cool! I’m a fan of the horror genre myself.” There was a pause, and then, “What’s your favorite scary movie?”
Laura’s small smirk turned into a pained grimace. “Definitely not THAT one.”
“I see- Oh! Shoot.” Jason let out a sigh. “I think I turned onto the wrong street. It’s not on 22nd, right?”
“No… it’s definitely here on 22nd.”
“Oh cool! Okay then, I’m headed there now.”
An awkward silence permeated the call as neither person knew what to say.
To break the silence, Laura tried giving Jason directions. “You should see a blue bar to your right.”
“Oh, that’s… weird. I’m at the bar, but the outside wall is red, not blue.”
“Well, the bar front is definitely blue. I didn’t see any red when I got here.”
Jason continued speaking into the phone. “Are you sure you sent me to the right location? Cause I’m not sure you did.”
“Interesting… I’m just gonna come outside and find you. You might be across the street.”
Jason could tell Laura’s temper was wearing thin. He was falling behind schedule, thanks to Greg’s shenanigans, and getting lost was not making this go any smoother.
Laura grabbed her purse, and quickly exited the building. It was a chilly October night, the kind where you could see the steam of your breath as you exhaled.
“Okay, I’m outside, can you see me?”
“Uh… No… I don’t…” Jason turned in all directions looking for her. He stopped, facing the opposite side of the street, a speck of yellow catching his eye across a dark alleyway. Squinting across the dimly-lit corridor, he was barely able to make out a figure in a yellow dress. “Oh! Wait. Are you wearing a yellow dress?”
“Yes! That’s me!” Laura let out, quite exasperatedly. She waved her left arm up and down.
“Cool! I’m across the alley behind you. Headed your way now!”
A small smirk once again formed on Laura’s face. She whipped around, and sure enough, Jason was headed in her direction. “Oh! There you are. I’ll meet you halfway.”
She hung up the call.
After looking cautiously to his sides, he skipped across the road and began down the alley. Jason was glad to see he wasn’t being catfished, and excitement finally started to build in his chest. He couldn’t believe he had actually got her to meet him, let alone in a place so private as this.
The click of her heels was the first thing Jason heard as he got closer to her. Their slow rhythmic beat was comforting to him; no one can run in heels.
As he was getting closer to her, Jason slowed his pace in an attempt to look non-threatening.
Laura continued towards Jason.
“Hey! Sorry about the mix-up, I guess I really don’t know my way around New York.” He chuckled, squirming around awkwardly. Unbeknownst to Laura, Jason was trying to covertly grab the buck knife he had hidden in his jacket.
“Oh, it’s quite alright, I didn’t mind waiting.” She glanced to her right side, and then the other. Like a cartoon-ish light bulb had just formed above her head, Laura asked, “Say, now that we’ve met each other, do you think you could put your number in my phone, like, officially?”
An odd question, Jason thought. “Why wouldn’t she have just asked me through the app?” He paused, giving her a confused look. Catching himself making things more complicated than they needed to be, his confusion faded to a placated smile.
“Sure! I wouldn’t be opposed to that.”
Laura opened her purse, and began fumbling through it as Jason got closer. The shuffle of keys and coins seemed to embarrass her the longer it took to find her phone. Jason thought it was pathetic how erratically she was scrounging through her bag.
Tension built in Jason’s body as he inched closer and closer towards the woman. “I can’t believe it! It really is this easy…”
Jason readied himself for the kill. “I can’t believe you teach slashers, and yet still followed me into an alle-” his critique was cut short by Laura, holding a finger in the air to his face.
She paused, scrunched her eyes, and let out a laugh-snort. “You know what? I am so dumb, my phone is in my pocket.” His train of thought sufficiently de-railed, and looking for a response, Jason blurted out, “I’d lose my head if it wasn’t attached to my body!”
The edges of her mouth pulled into a sharp grin, and Jason noticed her hand stopping on an object inside of the purse. “Actually, I did find something useful.”
“What’s that?” Jason asked.
Laura stepped closer, now inches away from Jason’s face.
“This!”
In a flash, Laura’s right hand jutted from her purse and struck Jason in the stomach.
Jason’s guttural howl filled the alleyway as a scraping pain deep inside his abdomen took over his senses. Laura began forcefully twisting the sharp instrument into Jason, causing him to stumble backwards, tripping over the curb and slamming into the brick wall behind him. Both of his hands scrambled to cover the fresh wound on his body, losing grip on the weapon inside his jacket.
Laura ripped the knife out of his stomach, steadying herself.
For a moment, she stood there, towering over Jason, who was now hunched into the wall. Laura charged towards him, stabbing his stomach multiple times. Rhythmically, she hit the left, and then the right, and then the left, and then the right again, slicing at his hands, still gripping the original wound.
Jason hobbled over dumbfounded. Through stifled chokes, blood filling his lungs, he managed to speak. “W- What?”
Laura squatted down, not breaking eye contact, placing her left hand on his shoulder, and began thrusting her knife mercurially into Jason. His intestines made a wet slap on the pavement as they spilled out of his freshly disemboweled stomach, steam rising from both the gaping cavern in his abdomen and the string of innards lining the ground at his feet.
“W- Why?” Jason pleaded, spurts of blood gushing out of his mouth and down his chin.
Slowly raising the blade above her head, Laura let out a little chuckle.
“You know, NOW I see something red.”
Eyes wide and crazed, Laura brought down the blade, ripping through part of Jason’s upper chest and neck. A blood spatter sprayed across her face, staining the collar of her dress. His eyes lingered on her bloody, statuesque body. Laura watched intently as her victim relaxed, slumped on the ground, the far away light draining from his eyes.
Collecting herself, she got closer, admiring her work. Laura let out a smug “hmph”, reveling in the simplicity of it all. Tinder really was just the thing she needed to get her groove back on.
Laura rose, and walked over to a nearby dumpster, grabbing a gym bag hidden deep within piles of trash. She wasted no time. The first to go were her heels, now swapped for a pair of black combat boots. Laura then lifted a black cloak out of the bag, stopping for a moment to admire the blue and silver specks of glitter sewn into the costume. Slipping into it was easy, as it hung and swallowed her small frame. All that was left was the mask, Ghostface’s mask, to complete the look. Its rubber material made a squelching noise as she brought it over her head. Now fully donning the suit of a killer, she walked out of the alleyway, making sure to crush Jason’s phone beneath her boot on the way out.
Emerging from the alley, Laura passed a group of drunk college students, all dressed in different Halloween costumes. A few of them raised their drinks to her, so she waved as they passed her, none of them wise to the grizzly murder she had just committed.
Reaching the stairs of the subway station, Laura disappeared into an even bigger, bustling crowd of New Yorkers, savoring the feeling of butchering her latest victim.
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The weathered door to apartment 3100 swung open as Greg Bruckner returned from his shift at the local bodega. Strangely, the lights of the apartment had been turned on. Greg bolted the door behind him, and shouted into the lonely hallway, “Honey! I’m home!”, to no response. After setting his things down, Greg flipped open his text messages to see if Jason had contacted him like they had planned.
No new messages.
Greg sighed defeatedly, assuming his partner had forgotten to text him back. Perhaps Jason was still mad at him for making him late to his “date” with Laura.
Unlike his roommate, Greg decided to stay in for the night. He had wanted to commit the opening kill for their movie, but Greg was not going to argue with someone stronger, faster, and slightly more unhinged than himself. Besides, while Jason got to experience the thrill of the kill, Greg got to do the important job of researching the duo’s future victims. In this way, Greg didn’t feel completely useless.
Not in the mood to waste time, Greg hurriedly shuffled towards his computer, flipping open his laptop screen. He began to look for articles surrounding last year’s Ghostface massacre in Woodsboro. He already knew the names of their targets; Sam and Tara Carpenter, Chad and Mindy Meeks-Martin, and Y/n.
Greg had mentioned to Jason his interest in killing another “legacy character”, as Amber killed Dewey the past year. Sidney Prescott, although famous, was incredibly hard to find. She also didn’t live in New York, which meant that Gale was ideal for a legacy kill. Jason wasn’t opposed to the idea, but Greg could tell he was more interested in killing the Carpenter sisters, finishing Richie’s movie.
Within seconds, Greg stumbled upon an article recently published by NPR that he had not seen. The article, while full of boiler plate filler, did help him confirm who had lived and died. For the victims, Greg counted 8, including Richie and Amber. More specifically, Greg was looking for info on Y/n, as she was not featured in many of the articles he had found. It seemed to him that she wasn’t important to Richie and Amber’s plan; she only suffered 3 stab wounds, was tied up, and found inside a closet by the police following the attack.
Either way, she’d make a great kill. Connected to the previous year’s plot, but an expendable character to say the least. Greg had tracked down her room information, and heard by word of mouth that she and Mindy were rooming together. In a moment of inspiration, and mild annoyance with Jason, Greg was struck with an idea for a brutal kill. He knew that a party was taking place at Omega Beta Zeta’s sorority house this evening in anticipation for Halloween. He also knew that Anika, from his film class, was going, which meant that Mindy was going, which meant Y/n would also be dragged there.
“Ha haa! I’m pretty sure they have a skylight too! Greg, you have outdone yourself once again!”
Just as he was closing his laptop, Greg heard the creak of a footstep somewhere in the apartment. A little on edge, he called out, “Jason? That you?” No answer.
Chalking it up to his imagination, he shrugged his shoulders, and got up from his desk to go get ready. Greg walked through their shared apartment, stopping to admire their collection of Ghostface and 'Stab' memorabilia. He paused on a particular display case. Instead of a glow in the dark Stab knife, it was replaced with a familiar buck knife, dripping with blood.
Eyebrow raised, he walked closer to the case, unaware of the small pool of blood staining their carpet. Greg felt something wet seep into his socks, and stepped back as he discovered the mess which had dripped onto their floor. “Dude…!” Greg scoffed under his breath. “You can’t be fucking serious.” Just as Greg was stepping back, his phone started to ring in his back pocket. This startled Greg, making him jump a little. He caught himself and rolled his eyes at this reaction. To his surprise, Jason was calling him.
Greg brought the smart phone to his ear. “Jason? Are you fucking serious? Now we have to clean this shit out of MY carpet. You do realize how hard it is to get blood out of WHITE carpet. Right?”
A gruff and playful voice responded. “Sorry. Couldn’t wait to show off proof of my latest kill.”
Greg swallowed and took a step back. “I thought we agreed to not use the voice on each other, man.”
“It’s more fun this way, Greg.”
Greg couldn’t believe it. He knew Jason had a few screws loose, but he didn’t peg him as someone who liked to play around. “Come on man, seriously, stop it. Where even are you?”
“In the apartment. Have you ever played hot and cold before?”
Greg was now very annoyed and ready for this charade to be over. “Dude…”
Greg turned around, facing the messy display case, and checked the closet where it was housed.
“Cold.”
Greg took a deep, labored breath, trying not to lose his cool. He moved to another closet located in the hallway. For a moment, he debated not opening it. Greg wasn’t completely sure Jason wouldn’t pop out with a knife and stab him. He thought for a moment before quickly swinging the doors open.
No one was there.
“Ice cold. You’re really bad at this.”
“You know what man, fuck you.” Greg just had one more place to check, a strange place, but a place Jason could be hiding nonetheless. He started walking down the hallway, when suddenly, the voice on the phone spoke to him.
“Luke-warm.”
Greg stood confused, as he had just crossed the threshold of the hallway into the main living space. There were no spaces a person could possibly be hiding. Taking a step to his left, towards the door and the shoe closet, the voice only confused him further.
“Colder.”
Greg took a step to his right, and…
“Warmer.”
Greg continued to his right, the hardwood floor creaking under his slow footsteps.
“Warmer.”
Greg was now solely focused on the voice, and was no longer paying attention to his surroundings. He looked in front of him, scanning the kitchen area, trying to imagine where someone might possibly be hiding. Then it hit him. The fridge. Greg took another step, and his stomach twisted at the voice’s response.
“Hot.”
Greg inched closer and closer towards the fridge, mouth agape. He placed his hand on the fridge door.
“You’re on fire!”
Tightening his grip on the door, just as he had on the closet earlier, Greg prepared himself to swing it open. To his horror, he found a dismembered hand, foot, and... Jason's head. All sitting in the fridge. “Fuck!”
A flash of pain seared across his right shoulder as a figure dressed in the Ghostface costume bore a knife up and into him. Greg screamed out in pain, slowly turning to face his attacker. A look of pure horror and confusion crossed his face as he stared down into the dark eye holes of the killer’s mask.
Grabbing his right shoulder and pinning him against the fridge, the killer asked, “Do you feel inspired Greg?”
The hand with the knife came a second time, gutting him. The Ghostface pulled away, and began repeatedly stabbing Greg in the stomach. His knife found a new location each time he punctured Greg’s torso, thrusting up and down his entire stomach and chest. Ghostface’s pace slowed, and he thrust his knife with extra vigor into his upper body before ripping it out a final time.
Greg sank to the floor, eyes still fixed on the mask, with blood spilling down his mouth. He blinked a few times before trying to appeal to the killer. “W- We have to f- finish the movie.”
Ghostface titled his head. As he raised the knife for the final blow, he yelled, “Who gives a fuck about movies?” Greg shrieked as the knife came whistling down, and all that followed was silence.