𝐆𝐇𝐎𝐒𝐓𝐅𝐀𝐂𝐄 𝐑𝐄𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐍𝐒 ³

Chapter 8

You were with Detective Kincaid. Despite your birth Mom being so-called best friends with Maureen, You still were in disbelief. Is this why you heard your birth Mom's voice? "What do you know about trilogies? You asked.

"You mean like, movie trilogies? Kincaid replied. "You seem to like movies, Detective, You reply, shrugging. He sighs." Call me Mark, would you? Cause I'm gonna keep calling you (Y/N)." "I'll call you Mark when you catch the killer, Detective, You say. You hoped he would find this killer.

With your experience though, you knew more than Kincaid did, Well, bigger perspective of this case specifically involving Ghostface. You knew for sure Billy nor Stu were involved. "All I know about movie trilogies is in the third one, all bets are off, Kincaid spoke.

You noticed nearby a large file. "Did you request this case?" "No, they tend to put me on the ones that deal with the business. I grew up here, and I know my way around the studios, Kincaid explained.

"Must be exciting, Beautiful place, beautiful people, You say sarcastically. "To me Hollywood is about death, Kincaid said. You give him a weird look. "Excuse me?" 

"I'm a homicide detective, remember? Kincaid reminded." When you see what I see day in and day out, the violence that people do to each other, you get haunted. I think you know about that."

"What do you mean? You ask, confused. "I know what it's like to see ghosts that don't go away. To be watching a scary movie in your head, Kincaid spoke." Whether you want to or not, watching it alone."

"Ghosts are tough, you can't shoot ghosts, You sigh. "Can't arrest ghosts. But the best way to stop being haunted is to be with people, Kincaid explained." You're here, you're not hiding, you've done the right thing, Miss Macher."

You kept your maiden name for some reason, well, Meeks just didn't fit you well enough. "Hmm, You mumble, you didn't even realize you were mumbling. Kincaid sighed." Here's the deal, I'm off to search the soundstage, That's good news."

You look even more confused. "How is that good news?" "Because, that means that we're dealing with an ordinary, flesh and blood killer. And I know how to handle guys like that, Kincaid explained.

"Oh yeah, how? You ask, crossing your arms. Ghostface Killers were difficult. But if you could kill them, so could He. "Catch him, or kill him, Kincaid said casually. He seems like he is about to leave when you asks,"Hey Detective? What's your favorite scary movie?"

"My life."

"Mine too."

________________________________________________________

You shiver in the wind, even in your jacket which is covering you. "(Y/N)? A familiar voice spoke, which belonged to none other than Roman Bridger, who you knew in High School. Popular, but was who you considered a player.

"Oh Hi, Roman, You say. "Long time, no see. How is your career?" "Good, Roman gritted his teeth, probably upset over Stab. He adds, "So you married the dorky Randy Meeks? How ironic." You sigh. "You're still pissed about me rejecting you? Roman..."

"No, I've moved on, but just really confused, Roman shrugs. "You deserve better. I was thinking why not have dinner some time?" You groaned. "I'm married, I have kids with my husband. So No. Not interested."

"As old buddies, (Y/N). Nothing more."

You sighed. "Fine. One Dinner." You were relieved you rejected him in high school, imagine if you married Roman, Yikes. You exchange phone numbers, before finding your car. Your phone rings, unknown number.

"Hello?"

"I missed you, (Y/N)."

"Oh, Billy. Hi."

"You're having dinner with that asshole Roman? You remember how he was in Highschool?"

"Jealous much? I do remember, Billy. We're going as friends, nothing more. Besides, I'm in Los Angeles, how did you know..."

there was a deep chuckle, one not belonging to Billy. 

"I'm not Billy, (Y/N)."

His voice, was identical. Nobody could replicate so good. Usually, there was some error. Nope, none here. You hissed. "I knew you were watching me. So, You're jealous, Mr. Ghostface?"

"You could say I am, beautiful. You should know, You're mine."

"In your dreams, copycat number two."

You hang up. Even if you weren't on the phone with Billy, you knew he was nearby, watching your moves, and daughter. Gee, how many guys liked you so obsessively? 

--

Milton's walking down the hallway. It's dark. Desolate. camera tracks along the paisley velvet carpet as a phone rings. It's his cell. He answers it, pushes the elevator 'up' button anxiously. "John Milton, He says into his phone.

"Wanna play a game?"

"Who is this?"

"You tell me. You bankrolled three movies about me."

"It's you. The saboteur whose been fucking up my movie! I swear to God if you don't stop I'll find you and have you killed! I shut down production on that piece of shit STAB 3! We had a no talent director and the lousiest (Y/N) Macher on the planet but that was besides the point! You still killed MY movie! A John Milton film! And if you ever try and cross me again you'll be sorry. My next movie is gonna be a grandiose step up from this slasher shit! It's a film written and directed by John Sayles."

"Oh poor John. There's not gonna be another film. Well, at least not for you."

The elevator door opens with a ping. A flash of silver and in an instant, John's throat is slashed open, spilling blood. His corpse thuds to the ground. A pair of gloved hands drag him into the elevator. A moments pause and then Ghostface storms out, disappearing down the hall.

In His office, Gale's trying to get a locked drawer on Milton's desk open. It won't budge. Dewey steps into frame, flashlight in hand. He shines the light down on the lock. "Hold on Gale, I'm a pro at this, Dewey spoke, leaning in, bumping his head with hers.

"Oh Dewey I'm sorry, Gale said. Dewey laughs sweetly.  "Here Let me... Gale begins, before Jennifer budges in, heavily annoyed. "Excuse me Gale! What the hell do you think you're doing?" 

Dewey and Gale were busy gazing into each other's eyes.