The Woodsboro Welcome

Danny Gonzalez

"Hey Greg, guess what? I just landed in Woodsboro." Danny speaks into the phone's camera, holding it above his face as he walks down the airport pathway leading to the baggage area. Rather than looking out for signage he follows the crowd that he'd disembarked with, his carry-on trailing behind him in his right hand.

"...and I'm really not sure why Tubecon decided to hold the convention in Woodsboro this year, but all I can guess is they want to save money." Danny continues his livestream, something Tubecon had encouraged all the attendees, speakers and sponsors to do for the next 3 days. "I'm headed to the Welcome Reception soon, so ... I guess that's it." He ends the live abruptly, chuckling lightly to himself at how awkward this ending will be to the viewers.

Danny spots the baggage sign a few feet away and decides to take a short detour first to the men's room. He checks his phone as he makes his way, a quick peek at the "likes" and new subscribers, the common comments asking if he is Drew, asking when he will make a new song and a few odd ones asking if that is Drew dressed as Ghostface behind him. He just assumes its a Woodsboro joke and pulls up his text messages, expecting a couple from Kurtis and Drew, announcing their arrival. In previous years the three would have arrived at Tubecon together, they'd always scheduled a tour inline with this convention to take advantage of the hype and travel discounts provided by the host company. But ever since the Jenna thing last year the guys haven't spent much time in the same room. They still stay in touch through messaging, wish each other well during key events throughout the year, but their relationships were tenuous. Danny hoped this convention would provide an opportunity to reconcile and reunite.

The washroom situation at the airport is always tricky. He tries to find a safe spot for his carry-on that is not too close to the urinal, but not so far from him that it can easily be stolen. One item in the bag has him particular concerned, he refused to pack it in his checked luggage and inspected it several times during the flight.

To add to this uncomfortable situation, a few people have already joined him in the small space, one guy actually decides to situate himself at the urinal right beside him and begins asking for a photo. "Umm... not right now!" Danny replies with raised brow over his blue eyes. He immediately regrets the decision to take this bathroom break before picking up his luggage, but the uncertainty of how long it will be before he gets to the hotel made this seem like the best option. The fan did not take "no" for an answer, rather he holds the phone up, back camera clearly aimed and Danny. "I said not right now man, do you mind?" Danny's voice less welcoming this time, he shakes his head and gives the fan a slight scowl, feeling uneasy with his pants undone and situation in hand. In the midst of his refusal he feels the arm of someone else creep around his left shoulder, and before he can see who this is or shove him off he hears the click from the cell phone camera as his mind connects the dots on what has just happened.

He feels something soft slide off his shoulder and turns to see someone in a familiar costume standing behind him. "Thanks man" the fan says, dressed in a ghost face long black cloak and white plastic mask. Danny's irritation and shock silence him as he quickly secures his pants, steps away from the two guys and heads to the sink. He vigorously washes his hands, as if the weak faucets water will wash away the violation. He hears the two congratulate themselves as they leave, the long sleeves of the cloak that had just been around Danny's body, now trailing out of view of the mirrors reflection.

Danny knew he'd encounter a few people dressed as Ghostface while in Woodsboro. The series of serial killers made this town famous after all and the costume is "sold at every five and dime in the state" according to the Stab movies, so its inevitable the local residents and visiting attention seekers would try their hand at scaring visitors and friends.

He remains in the bathroom for a few more minutes, starting to calm from the encounter. He fixes his hair, straightens his clothes and does his best to look less like someone who has been on a flight for a few hours.

His cell vibrates and its exactly who he expected, Drew's name and photo flashes on the screen. "Hey man," Danny answers, making his way out of the men's room. "Hello Danny." He recognized the voice not as Drew's but the voice he's heard in so many Stab movies, giving him that formal and familiar greeting. He offers the obligatory laugh and nod, acknowledging the prank. "Yeah, yeah" he replies to the caller, "what's my favorite scary movie, right? No question, its My L..." His breath catches in his throat as he feels sharp pressure at his side. He turns to see the same mask and cloak from a few minutes ago facing him. Another jolt of pain plunges into his side and he follows the line of the costumes arm to the knife being pulled from his body. The attacker wipes Danny's blood off in its gloved hand, as the mask calmly says, "Welcome to Woodsboro Danny." Adrenaline floods his body and he stumbles backward, the carry-on dropping to the ground as he trips over it. His hands slip and slide, slick with blood as he tries to get to his feet, eyes scanning for security, or anyone who can help.

"Oh my god, how is there no one around." He thinks, grabbing the side of his shirt into a bunch, pushing it firmly into his wound to help slow the blood loss as he makes a run for the doors leading to the baggage area, but Ghostface beats him to the exit and he needs a new plan. Danny swerves to a staff door he spots at the left of the baggage area. It takes him to a long, stoic hallway and he follows it thankful he didn't need an access pass to enter, and hoping for more unlocked doors. As he hears the door behind him shut he feels his throat tighten and tears begin to form against his will and makes the mistake of wiping his eyes, a smear of thick blood now sticks mercilessly to his face.

The hallway forks into three directions and though he is feeling lightheaded and dizzy, he makes the quick decision to take the option to the right. Just as he does he hears the staff door quickly open and close again, heavy footsteps echoing.

Sweat is dripping into his eyes, bringing diluted blood with it, stinging him, as he makes his way to a door with a huge exit sign. He audibly prays it doesn't have an alarm attached to it as he pushes his way out, knowing he can't move as quickly as his pursuer with his injuries.

The sky is pitch black when he feels the warm Woodsboro air, mixed with the smell of airplane exhaust. He spots an air-traffic marshal directing a taxiing plane in the right position, waiving glowing red batons in coordinated gestures. Danny shouts for help, but his throat is so tight now, he needs water and he's struggling to catch his breath. He musters all his strength to call out again, but realizes quickly that it is no use. The grounded plane's engine drowns out his voice completely, and the marshal is focused on the plane, not the injured guy standing on the airport apron looking for a savior.

Danny checks behind him, Ghostface may have gone straight when Danny turned right, but he also could be close behind. His mind is so foggy now and all he wants to do is curl up on the ground and rest, but he rallies whatever will to live he has left and mentally surveys his options, deciding his best bet is to make a break toward the marshal and hope Ghostface will not want to be seen and will give up the hunt. Plus the marshal will have a walkie talkie to call for help. He turns back toward the marshal to make a run for it, but halts as he realizes he is face to face with his demise. Somehow the killer dressed in the daunting costume has appeared before him, a slight tilt of the hooded head, Danny's eyes follow the knife being raised above both their heads and shuts his eyes, resigning himself to the worst.