i hate scary movies.

3.6

I sit up and grab Sid, wrapping her in my arms as she sobs into my clothes. The lights turn on, and Dewey runs in, yelling our names as I wrap my arms more tightly around Sid.

Dewey stops next to us, grabbing our shoulders. "Are you guys okay?"

Sid moves a little to be able to see Dewey and the other people behind him. "The killer's in the house," she sobs. "Dewey, he's upstairs. And my mother—"

I squeeze her tightly, and she puts her face in my shoulder. "After you're done looking for that asshole," I say to Dewey, "can you try to find my gun?"

Dewey nods. The cops start running. Dewey sits down and hugs us.

"I heard her voice, Dewey," Sid sobs. "I saw her, Dewey."

"It's okay, Sid," I mumble.

"You weren't supposed to go into that house," Dewey says. "It's all set up for the murder scene. I'm sorry you had to see that."

"He was in there, Dewey," Sid says. "He was in there. I swear, I swear."

"I believe you," Dewey says. He turns to me. "You saw it too, right?" I nod.

"What happened?"

"Kincaid, hey," one of the cops says to Kincaid as he runs in. "There's nobody up here."

Sid sniffles. I wipe the tears off her face, and Dewey helps us up. We both wrap our arms around Sid and start walking away.

—

"No, he was there. I am not dreaming. I am not crazy," Sid says to Kincaid, who looks like he doesn't believe her.

"Wipe that fucking look off your face, Kincaid," I say. "I saw him too. Do something about it, or we will."

Sidney gestures to me, then points to the set. "He was there in Woodsboro!"

"That's not Woodsboro, Sidney," Kincaid says, shaking his head.

"You know what I mean! But he was there. He or she or whoever this is."

"We're gonna take the two of you back to the station. Keep you under watch. Keep you in a safe house. Whatever it takes."

"The last time someone tried to do that, we almost died," I say.

"Diana?" I hear a man say, so I turn to him, annoyed. "We found your gun on set outside your bedroom window."

"Thanks," I say, going to grab the gun. The man leaves, and Kincaid goes to grab the gun from me. I move it out of reach from him. "Don't touch the fucking gun, Kincaid. I still have the second amendment, bitch. You wanna see my license? I have it all at my house."

Kincaid rolls his eyes and walks around the car, getting in the driver's seat. Dewey opens the passenger door for Sid.

"Hey, Dew," Gale says before I can get in the car.

"Dew," Jennifer says.

Gale snaps her fingers at me. "You aren't going anywhere. We need a third bad cop. Dewey's our good one."

I point to Sid. "I can't leave her again."

"Go, D," Sid says. "I'll call you."

"Sid—"

"Go."

—

Jennifer and I are the first to barge into Milton's office, Gale and Dewey following behind us. "Roman, John," Jennifer greats in monotone.

"Jennifer, and guests. To what do I owe this honor?" Milton asks.

Dewey grabs me when I go to take a step forward. He past my shoulder, and I move between him and Jennifer.

"Rina Reynolds," Gale says.

"Rina Reynolds?" Roman asks. "Who's Rina Reynolds?"

"Zip it, nerd boy," I say, giving him a glare.

"Why don't you head to the house?" Milton says to Roman. "Tell everybody no to cut the cake without me."

Jennifer turns to Roman and smiles, uncrossing her arms. "Oh, I forgot. Your birthday," she says.

"Yeah, as if life isn't tragic enough," Roman says while Jennifer tells him happy birthday. He walks out of the office, shutting the doors behind him after Milton asks him to.

"So, you knew Sidney Prescott's mother," Dewey says while Jennifer crosses her arms again.

"Who?"

"Rina Reynolds," Jennifer says.

"Ah," Milton says. "You know how many actors have worked for me? Hundreds. Thousands." We all nod.

"We didn't say she was an actor," Gale says.

"Good catch," Jennifer acknowledges.

"So what's the point?" Milton asks.

"Uh, no point," Dewey says, grabbing his phone out. "I'm just gonna give Detective Kincaid a call." He starts dialing in his number.

"I remember," Milton says, making Dewey stop. "She was a bit player in a couple of my movies. A nobody. So what does it matter?"

"Oh, come on," Jennifer says. "You have made millions off the story of her murder. You're obsessed with her, and you're obsessed with her daughter!"

"All right, easy, Geraldo," Gale says, moving Jennifer out of the way.

"Why don't you tell us the truth?" Gale asks him.

"What the hell are you guys getting at? I make horror films. That's what I do. The studio came to me with Stab. They came to me. Check it out."

"But you knew who she was," Dewey says.

"When we did the first Stab, I realized I had known Maureen Prescott before. I mean, as Rina. I couldn't tell anyone. Can you imagine the press?"

"And now?" Gale asks. "I mean, murders on your set, and still you say nothing?"

"Get real," Milton says. "That would make me a suspect."

"I would say you already are," I put in.

"Just because you knew her?" Gale asks.

"Yeah."

"I don't think so," Gale says, shaking her head. "Just what did happen to Maureen when she was in Hollywood?"

Milton leans down and puts his hands on his desk. "Now you listen to me, Lois Lane," he says. "Let it go. It's dead and buried."

"Trilogies are when the past gets resurfaced," I say. "This is a trilogy, so spill."

"Leave it be where it is, kid. It's buried."

Gale nods to me, getting more in Milton's face. "How would you like to see it dug up on National T.V.? Why don't you tell me what happened?"

Milton backs up. "It was in the 70s," he explains. "Everything was different." He sits down in his chair. "I was well-known for my parties. Rina knew just what they were. It was for girls like her to meet men. Men who could get them parts if they made the right impression." Jennifer and Gale and I share a look. "Nothing happened to her that she didn't invite in one way of another. No matter what she said afterwards."

"Are you saying—" Gale starts.

"I'm saying things got out of hand. Maybe they did take advantage of her. Maybe the sad truth is this is not the city for innocents. No charges were brought. And the bottom line is," he stands up and starts pacing, "Rina Reynolds wouldn't play by the rules. You wanna get ahead in Hollywood? You gotta play the game, or go home."

"You sick fuck," I snap. "You're fucking disgusting." I star towards him, but Dewey grabs me before I can get to him. "I hope you rot in hell, your motherfucking dick!"