Echoes of the past

The Party

The music thudded through the walls of the crowded house, vibrating the floors under Eve Prescott's feet. She leaned against the kitchen counter, nursing a red solo cup filled with watered-down punch as her eyes roamed over the sea of costumed bodies. Halloween parties had always felt strange to her—too much noise, too many people. But Lila had insisted, practically dragging her out of the house.

"It's Halloween, Eve," Lila had said. "You can't stay cooped up every year!"

Eve had relented, even though deep down, she hated Halloween. Growing up in Woodsboro with a mother like Sidney Prescott had a way of coloring the holiday in a different light. For her, Halloween wasn't about fun costumes or candy; it was a reminder of the countless times someone had used the Ghostface murders as a cheap joke, a way to get attention. Her mom had survived it all, but that didn't mean the memories faded.

Woodsboro had scars, and Halloween felt like reopening the wound every year.

Eve scanned the room, recognizing a few familiar faces. Jake Crawford, one of the school's star football players, was parading around in a knockoff Ghostface costume, brandishing a plastic knife and making exaggerated slashing motions. His buddies egged him on, laughing like it was the funniest thing in the world. Eve rolled her eyes.

"Can you believe these idiots?" she muttered to Lila, who stood next to her, a bottle of beer in hand.

Lila grinned, adjusting her cheap witch hat. "It's Woodsboro. What do you expect?"

Eve sighed, taking another sip of her drink. No matter how far they got from the original murders, there was always someone who thought it was funny to bring up Ghostface. It was like a curse that haunted this town, one they couldn't shake no matter how hard they tried.

Her phone buzzed in her pocket. Pulling it out, she glanced at the screen and saw a text from an unknown number.

What's your favorite scary movie, Eve?

Her stomach twisted. It wasn't funny. Not to her.

She showed the message to Lila, who barely glanced at it. "Ugh, it's probably Noah," she said. "You know how obsessed he is with all this horror movie crap."

Eve frowned. Noah Parker had a reputation for being the biggest horror fan in school—an encyclopedia of slasher trivia, a walking fountain of useless knowledge about every horror trope in the book. He was the guy who always knew too much, and though Eve found him interesting in a quirky way, this crossed a line.

Another buzz. Another message.

Turn around.

Her breath caught in her throat. Slowly, she looked over her shoulder. Nothing. Just more dancing bodies, more people lost in their own worlds of cheap booze and bad decisions. But something felt off.

The house was too packed to see clearly, but Eve's pulse quickened. She couldn't shake the feeling that someone was watching her.

"Lila..." she started, but her voice was drowned out by the music.

Lila was too busy chatting up a guy in a vampire costume, her carefree laughter cutting through the air like nothing could touch her. Eve tried to tell herself it was nothing, just some stupid prank—Noah trying to mess with her. Yet her instincts told her otherwise.

Her phone buzzed again. This time, it wasn't a text—it was a call. The unknown number flashed on her screen, and for a moment, she considered ignoring it. But curiosity got the better of her, and she answered.

"Hello?"

A low, distorted voice crackled through the line. "Do you think this is a joke, Eve?"

Her blood ran cold. "Who is this?"

"Wrong question," the voice replied. "The right question is: how fast can you run?"

Her eyes widened as a scream suddenly cut through the music, freezing the room. People stopped mid-dance, their laughter dying in their throats as they turned toward the front door. Eve's heart raced as she followed their gaze.

Jake stumbled inside, clutching his chest, blood pouring through his fingers. The plastic knife he'd been waving around earlier was gone, replaced by a very real, very sharp blade stuck in his abdomen. His eyes were wide with shock and pain, his lips moving, but no words came out.

Lila screamed. Chaos erupted.

Eve stood frozen, her mind struggling to process what she was seeing. This was supposed to be a joke. Jake was the idiot who always thought he could get a rise out of people by dressing as Ghostface. But this—this was real.

Someone shoved past her, and the spell broke. The house was in full panic now, people rushing for the exits, pushing and tripping over each other in their desperation to get out. Eve's mind raced as she stared at Jake, who had collapsed near the doorway, his breathing shallow and ragged.

She barely registered Lila grabbing her arm. "We need to go! Eve, we need to get out of here!"

But Eve couldn't move. Her phone buzzed in her hand again, and she looked down at the screen.

It's your turn, Eve. Run.

She dropped the phone, her heart pounding so loud she could hear it over the screams and chaos around her. This wasn't just a prank. This was Ghostface. And whoever it was, they were coming for her.

Lila yanked her toward the back door, pulling her through the screaming crowd. "Come on! We have to get out of here now!"

Eve's legs finally obeyed, and she stumbled after Lila, her mind racing. This couldn't be happening. Not again. Not to her.

As they burst through the back door and into the cold night air, Eve's breath came in ragged gasps. The dark streets of Woodsboro stretched out before them, but in her mind, she was back in the stories her mother had told her. Stories of being hunted, stalked, and attacked by a masked killer who seemed to know everything.

Her phone buzzed once more in her pocket, but she didn't have to look at it to know what it said. This was just the beginning.

Ghostface was back.