TREPIDATION | sᴄʀᴇᴀᴍ 1996. (DISCONTINUED)

TWENTY ONE

𝙘𝙝𝙖𝙥𝙩𝙚𝙧 𝙩𝙬𝙚𝙣𝙩𝙮 𝙤𝙣𝙚 :
is this a party?

﹏︎﹏︎﹏︎﹏︎﹏︎﹏︎﹏︎﹏︎﹏︎﹏︎

     EVEN THOUGH THERE was a curfew, and no one was supposed to be outside their dorm, the lights to the Windsor's theater were on. The closer she got the louder the faint music that was playing inside grew. This is what led her to enter.

     "Hello?" She called out as she stepped into the building. Only a quiet met her call though. "Is there anyone in here? Hello?" She ventured further, through the hall and into the open doors leading to the stage.

(F/N) made her way into the giant room, down the steps as she carefully looked between every row of seats for any danger. She stopped a bit before the stage, looking around for any sign of life in the theater, but it was difficult. That was until the door to the side of the stage opened and a figure dressed in black burst out.

Upon recognizing the costume of Ghostface, (F/N) immediately backed away, but the killer didn't advance. So, she made the mistake the hesitating once the killer reached up and gripped the mask at the top of their head. The girl watched as the killer ripped the cloth off with seemingly no hesitation.

(F/N) felt her eyes widen at the person who was revealed underneath. The man raised the device in his hand, one she recognized from Woodsboro. "Surprise, (F/N)." The familiar voice of none other than Ghostface came out. Mickey raised the voice changer like it was a mic and dropped it.

     The girl dropped her shoulders, holding her breath from shock. She stared at Mickey, whose gaze didn't falter, wanting to scream in rage and betrayal. Again? It had happened again? It was the third time now that one of her closest friends decided to try and stab her in the back, literally.

     (F/N) wanted to ask why. Why was he doing this? What did he have against her? But the only words that came out were frustrated and uncontrollable, "Are you fucking serious right now?"

     Mickey pulled out a knife from behind him, the tip of it covered in vivid red blood. "Do I look like I'm joking?" His pitch went up near the end of the sentence, making him sound playful. But maybe the boyish grin on his face was helping.

     (F/N)'s eyes carefully scanned the area around them, not trying to take her eyes off of him for a moment. Mickey didn't seem to mind, only basking in the attention. Since she couldn't see anyone else in the room with them, she asked, "Are you alone?"

     "Do you think I am?" Mickey inquired, eyes widening like it was the most interesting topic ever. (F/N) didn't reply, not knowing what to say, but that wasn't the response that Mickey wanted as he prodded, "Come on, (F/N). I gotta have a partner. I couldn't have possibly done this alone."

     The two stared at each other for a moment, both of them waiting for the other to move. It felt like a duel and not one she wanted to lose. (F/N) took a slow step back, but Mickey didn't advance. She wanted to look behind her but knew she didn't have the time, Mickey could leap off the stage and catch up to her in what, a few seconds? Mickey was too athletic, it made her angry.

     She took another bolder one, about to turn around and bolt when suddenly Mickey's voice rang through the room, "Ah! Ah! Ahh! I wouldn't do that if I were you!" He said in a sing-song voice. One glance at him made her freeze. In his hand was a pistol, aimed right at her (a part of her wanted to scoff, what had she done to deserve this?).