Scream 1: "Behind The Mask"

Part 1: Nightmare In Woodsboro

Nestled amidst the picturesque landscapes of California, the small town of Woodsboro exudes an idyllic charm that belies the dark secrets that lay dormant within. Before the terrifying events that would forever mark its history, Woodsboro epitomized community, tranquillity, and the quintessential American small-town dream.

Located in the heart of the state, Woodsboro boasted a population that hovered around the 10,000 mark. It was a place where neighbours knew each other by name, where children played freely on tree-lined streets, and where the annual Woodsboro High School football games brought the entire town together in raucous displays of unity and pride.

Woodsboro was picturesque, with its quaint storefronts, charming houses, and an inviting Main Street that bustled with life. The town was a microcosm of Americana, complete with a cozy diner, a local video store, and a beloved high school that stood as a beacon of hope for generations of young minds.

The residents of Woodsboro were typically warm, friendly, and deeply rooted in their community. Families had lived there for generations, and newcomers were quickly welcomed into the fold. It was a place where everyone felt safe, where the biggest concern might be the occasional teenage mischief or rumours whispered across white picket fences.

Little did the unsuspecting residents of Woodsboro know that their peaceful existence would soon be shattered by a series of brutal murders that would grip the town in fear. The arrival of a masked killer, known as Ghostface, would plunge Woodsboro into a nightmare of terror, turning its familiar streets into a treacherous landscape where no one could be trusted.

But before the chilling screams echoed through the night, before the blood-soaked tragedy stained its sidewalks, Woodsboro was a place of innocence and simplicity, blissfully unaware of the horrors that awaited just beyond the horizon.

1996:

William POV:

Lost in the rhythm of tossing a ball in the air, I found solace in the melodies pouring into my ears through my trusty walkman. Nestled comfortably on my bed, I was blissfully unaware until the creaking of the door interrupted my reverie.

With a sigh, I removed my headphones and sat up, greeted by the presence of Mr. Prescott standing in the doorway. "Just checking in on you, Kid?" he inquired, his voice laced with concern.

"I'm doing alright, Sir. Just enjoying some music," I replied, crossing my legs and switching off the walkman.

Leaning casually against the doorframe, Mr. Prescott addressed me with a hint of urgency. "Keep an eye on Sidney, will you? I need her to start acting more responsibly."

"I'll certainly do my best," I assured him, watching as he turned and exited the room, closing the door behind him.

In the morning, I found myself in the kitchen, pouring cereal into a bowl and adding milk to it. As I reached to return the milk to its place, a distinct crunching sound caught my attention. I turned around, only to discover Sidney holding my bowl.

"Uh, Hi," Sidney greeted me with an anxious wave, clearly aware of her transgression. I crossed my arms, a mixture of annoyance and hunger creeping into my expression.

"You better start running," I warned her sternly, my determination to retrieve my breakfast overpowering any mercy I might have had. Without wasting another moment, I set off on a chase after her, determined to reclaim what was rightfully mine and ensure I had enough fuel to face the challenges of the day ahead.

As I sipped my coffee, driving down the street, I noticed how everyone was acting odd and very peculiar and as i pulled up to the highschool, There six police cars, Four news vans, flashing cameras, and crowds of people gathered just off campus.