Scream | Ethan Landry

008

"LOOKS LIKE YOU'RE DOWN another brother." Sam crooned to Quinn from above, as Vienna's body began to shake with laughter as she flung aside the knife aside, blood splattered against her body and face as her laughter grew uncontrollably.

Quinn screamed. Overcome with rage and grief, she charged. Sam charged too, meeting the girl in the middle as she jammed the girl's arm outwards and twisted the knife out of her hand. Before twisting Quinn's arm back and shoving her forward. The girl stumbled, and a bang rang out in the room. Quinn's head snapped back. The girl's eyes were wide with surprise as she slumped forward—a hole in her head.

Tara looked at the girl's dead body grimly, her arm raised with the gun. "One more down." Her eyes flickered behind her sister, as she aimed the gun again. Sam turned around.

Detective Bailey stood shocked, his face a mixture of grief and rage and disbelief as he stared down at the body of his only daughter. His last child. His hand shook, arm dangling at his side, the gun in hand forgotten.

A cruel look donned Sam's face. "One left to go...and then we've got the whole family."

Pure rage crossed the detective's face, but he stood in place, not daring to make the same mistake his daughter did. Tara took aim—and fired.

...But it appeared the gun was empty of bullets, and panic set onto her face as she clicked the trigger uselessly. "Oh, fuck." 

Sam hissed, "Of fucking course we run out of bullets," before letting out a scream and charging the man. Detective Bailey charged too, aiming his gun. But in close quarters, Sam easily knocked the weapon aside—and it shot into the air uselessly—and latched onto the man's shoulders. And holding him tight to her body, she threw him off the side of the railing, and they fell to the floor together.

___

 DETECTIVE BAILEY WOKE UP, his head ringing with irritating noise and his vision swimming in the darkness. He was in the theatre, still laying on top of the broken remains of the shattered wooden, glass tabletop. He got up weakly, ears still ringing as he looked around.

Sound from the projection played faintly in the background as the movie Richie made continued to roll. He stumbled around, limping, his gun still in his hand. His phone rang suddenly, beeping and buzzing in his pocket.

He huffed, breathing heavily, as he reached into his pocket and winced at the action. He pulled out the phone and put it to his ear, answering.

"Hello, Detective Bailey."  The familiar voice of Ghostface sneered. "I got one question for you."

"Oh, yeah?" The man scoffed, limping up the steps. "And what's that?"

A smirk, on the other end. "What's your favorite scary movie?"

The Detective chuckled. "Favorite scary movie..." Stupid teenagers, he thought. As if I'd be afraid of that.

"I'm asking, because you're in one now. You're in my movie." 

Two gunshots rang out as the Detective aimed and fired his gun, hitting nothing but the mannequins around the room. He looked around, gaze halting on one naked mannequin, without a cloak and mask.

The Detective laughed. "Oh, I see you've put on your true face, huh? Your birthright. Poetic, that you're gonna die in it."

"This is what you wanted, isn't it?"

The detective fired again, when he heard the sound of rustling to one side. But hit nothing but a mannequin once more. "Now you know the truth, huh? Murder's in your blood." He scanned the room, growing more and more angry. "Now stop fucking around and show yourself!"