SCREAM - THE GHOST OF LONDON

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

Charlie looked up at them, his eyes wide with shock and disbelief. "You?" he croaked, his voice raw from the pain in his stomach. "You're Tyler's family?"

Joe chuckled darkly, stepping closer to stand beside Olivia. "Oh, we're more than just his family, Charlie," he said, his American accent now fully clear and unmistakable. He crouched down, getting on Olivia's level, and looked Charlie straight in the eye. "We're his legacy."

Olivia nodded, her eyes still fixed on Charlie. "You didn't think Tyler was just some random psycho, did you?" she sneered, tilting her head slightly as she pressed the knife against his throat a little harder. "No, Charlie. We were always watching. We knew exactly what he was doing, and we were ready to step in the moment you took him out."

Charlie's mind reeled. The events of Chicago came rushing back, the terror, the loss. He had thought Tyler was just another Ghostface wannabe, another deranged killer looking to make a name. But this? This was something else. His heart sank with the realization that this was personal, far more than he could have ever imagined.

"Why do you think we came here, huh?" Joe continued, his voice filled with venom. "Why do you think we became your friends? We had to get close, gain your trust, just like Tyler said. You were supposed to be a game, Charlie, just like you were to him."

Olivia's smile faded, her eyes turning cold and distant. "Tyler talked about you all the time," she said quietly, almost as if lost in her own memories. "How you ruined everything for him. How you were the one who got away." She leaned in even closer, her breath hot against his skin. "But we won't let you get away this time."

Charlie could feel his pulse racing, the adrenaline surging through his veins. "You're doing this... for Tyler?" he asked, his voice shaking. "This is all just some twisted revenge plan?"

Joe laughed, standing up again as he casually kicked a chair out of the way. "It's not just for Tyler. It's for us," he said, pacing the room like a predator circling its prey. "You see, you surviving made him weak. It made him a joke. We're here to finish what he started, to show everyone that you can't escape Ghostface."

Olivia traced the knife down Charlie's throat to his chest, where it hovered dangerously close to the wound he'd received earlier. "And once we're done with you," she whispered, her eyes gleaming with malice, "everyone will know what happens when you mess with our family."

Charlie swallowed hard, his eyes never leaving Olivia's as she hovered the knife over his chest. His breath was ragged, each inhale a sharp reminder of the pain coursing through his body. "I did what I had to do," he said, his voice trembling but firm. "I didn't know Tyler. I didn't even know why he was doing it. All I knew was that he was killing my friends, and I had to fight back."

Olivia smirked, but her eyes showed no sympathy, only a chilling satisfaction at his words. "Oh, we know," she whispered. "He told us all about it. How you fought, how you managed to survive while everyone else died."

Joe crossed his arms, watching Charlie with a cold, detached interest. "And you think that makes you a hero?" he scoffed. "Because you survived? Because you killed him?" He shook his head, almost amused. "That just makes you a killer too, Charlie. Just like us."

Charlie felt a lump rise in his throat, a mix of anger, fear, and grief. "I didn't want to kill him," he admitted, his voice cracking. "I didn't want any of this. But he left me no choice."

He closed his eyes for a moment, the memories of that night in Chicago flashing through his mind—the screams, the blood, the sheer terror of not knowing who would die next. "Tyler took everything from me. He made me fight for my life, and I did. I fought. I didn't have a choice."