When your brother and his girlfriend are gutted by an anonymous killer in the small town of Woodsboro, your group of friends set out to uncover this masked murderer.
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Scream 1996, 1997, 2000
Billy Loomis x Fem! Reader x Stu Macher
(This book i...
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Tuesday, October 31, 2000 8:05 pm
Woodsboro, California.
If there were ever a time to return to Woodsboro, it would be during the month of October. The small-town celebrated Halloween by throwing an annual fundraising event which rolled in thousands of dollars for whichever charity the sponsors decided on for that year.
This year's most voted event was a grand, but very creepy haunted house that allowed all ages. Apparently, it takes twenty minutes to get through the entire thing, and once you made it to the other side, there was a spooky carnival awaiting, full of dull games and even duller rides. But at least there was a Ferris wheel — which was the best part about carnivals or fairs.
Currently, you were sitting in the backseat of Dewey's bat-mobile — aka, his cop car. Dewey had pretty much healed from the injuries he's acquired over the years, so after moving back to town with Gale, he was able to get his job back at the police station as a deputy.
According to the newlyweds, you needed to step outside the realms of your parent's house and get some fresh air for once. But that was quite hard as you've spent the past five weeks in mourning, grieving over the loss of Mark and every other soul taken during the scary movie trilogy — as Randy liked to call it — that was your life.
So, much to your dismay, you were now out, and it was Dewey's idea to go to the haunted house near town square. But during the ride, you had to listen to him and Gale bicker about something as irrelevant as who's the better cook.
"Remember when I made you that spaghetti fra diavolo?" Dewey asked, glancing from the road to Gale, then back to the road again.
"Oh, you mean the angel hair pasta that tasted like slime?" Gale questioned while fixing her grown out bangs in the sun visor mirror.
Dewey gave a small gasp. "You said you loved it."
"I was being nice," Gale admitted, flipping the sun visor shut. "Can't you tell the difference between my nice face and my fake nice face?"
Dewey took a moment to consider his answer. "To be honest, no..." he spoke slowly. "They both look the same."
Their petty argument seemed to have ended when you began to shift uncomfortably in the back seat.
"You all right back there, Y/n?" Dewey asked, glancing at you in the rearview mirror.
"Can we stop at the market. I need to pee," You announced, your foot rapidly tapping against the floorboard the more your bladder filled. "And I want goldfish."
"Sure," Dewey said, the car slowing as he took a left turn. "We're already pulling into town square."
"Oh, can you get me a coke while you're in there?" Gale abruptly asked. "Preferably diet."
