Echoes of the past

The trap

Eve's heart pounded as she drove through the darkened streets of Woodsboro, her mind racing with fear and anger. Ghostface had Noah. She could still hear that distorted voice on the phone, taunting her. It felt like a nightmare—except this one was all too real. She hadn't told her mom, Sidney, or anyone else where she was going. She couldn't risk it. They would try to stop her, and Eve knew this was something she had to do alone.

The old fairgrounds came into view as Eve turned off the main road. They had been closed for years, overgrown and forgotten. The perfect place for a trap. But Eve had no choice—Noah was in danger, and she couldn't leave him to face Ghostface alone.

She parked the car a short distance away, the night air cold and heavy around her. Pulling her jacket tighter, Eve made her way toward the entrance, her every step slow and cautious. The wind rustled through the tall grass, the only sound in the otherwise eerie silence. Her phone buzzed again, startling her. She pulled it out, half-expecting another threat.

Instead, it was a text from Noah.
"Inside. Be careful."

Her stomach dropped. If Noah had his phone, maybe he was okay. But Eve wasn't sure. She glanced around, her instincts screaming at her that something was wrong. Ghostface could be anywhere, watching, waiting.

Steeling herself, Eve entered the fairgrounds, moving through the broken-down gates and past the rusted rides. The Ferris wheel loomed in the distance, casting a long shadow in the moonlight. Everything about this place felt wrong, like it was holding its breath, waiting for something terrible to happen.

As she ventured deeper into the grounds, Eve's phone buzzed again. Another text from Noah.

"In the funhouse. Hurry."

The funhouse was at the far end of the grounds, its entrance dark and foreboding. Eve swallowed her fear and headed in that direction, her senses on high alert. Her fingers brushed against the pocket where she had stashed a small knife—her only form of protection. She gripped it tightly, feeling the cold metal against her skin.

As she approached the funhouse, the air grew colder, the wind picking up. Eve stopped just outside the entrance, staring at the cracked and peeling sign that read "Hall of Mirrors." The doors were slightly ajar, a faint light flickering inside. She hesitated for a moment, her pulse racing. This was it. The trap.

But she couldn't back down now.

With a deep breath, Eve pushed the doors open and stepped inside.

Sidney sat at the kitchen table, Gale and Dewey across from her. The tension between them was palpable, the weight of their shared history pressing down on them. Dewey had brought over all the files from the latest investigation, and they were poring over them, trying to make sense of it all.

"There's something we're missing," Sidney said, frustration creeping into her voice. "This new Ghostface isn't just some random copycat. They're too methodical, too personal. It's like they know every move we're going to make."

Gale nodded, flipping through the files in front of her. "They've been studying us, that's for sure. But I can't shake the feeling that this is all leading to something bigger."

Dewey looked up, his face lined with worry. "We need to figure it out fast. Whoever this is, they're not stopping until they get what they want."

Sidney's phone buzzed, interrupting the conversation. She glanced at the screen and frowned. It was a text from Eve.

"Mom, I'm going to the library with Lila. Be back later."

Something about the message felt off. Sidney had been on edge for days, and Eve had been distant since the attack at the library. She trusted her daughter, but with Ghostface back in Woodsboro, trust wasn't enough.

"Everything okay?" Gale asked, noticing Sidney's expression.

Sidney hesitated before answering. "I don't know. Eve says she's with Lila, but I've got a bad feeling."

Dewey stood up, his protective instincts kicking in. "Let's go check on her. Just to be safe."

Sidney nodded, grabbing her jacket. "I'll call Lila and see if they're really together."

As they headed for the door, Gale's phone buzzed. She glanced at it and froze.

A text from an unknown number.

"You're next."

Eve moved cautiously through the funhouse, the flickering lights casting eerie shadows on the walls. The mirrors distorted her reflection, turning her into a ghostly figure with too many faces. Every creak, every whisper of wind sent her heart racing. Ghostface was somewhere in here. She could feel it.

"Noah?" she called out, her voice barely more than a whisper.

No answer.

She gripped her knife tighter, moving deeper into the maze of mirrors. Her footsteps echoed around her, making it impossible to tell where the sounds were coming from. Panic bubbled in her chest, but she forced herself to stay calm.

She reached a dead end and turned back, her nerves on edge. And then she saw it—a figure in the mirror, standing behind her. Eve's breath caught in her throat as she spun around.

Ghostface.

The masked killer stood just a few feet away, the glint of a knife in their hand. Eve's heart pounded as she backed away, her mind racing. There was nowhere to run, no way out.

"You think you can save him?" the distorted voice taunted, muffled by the mask. "You can't save anyone."

Eve's hand tightened around the knife in her pocket. "Where's Noah?" she demanded, trying to keep her voice steady.

Ghostface tilted their head, almost as if they were amused. "You're asking the wrong questions, Eve."

Eve took a step forward, her fear giving way to anger. "I'm not playing your games."

In a blur of motion, Ghostface lunged at her, the knife slicing through the air. Eve ducked just in time, the blade grazing her arm. She stumbled backward, her back hitting the mirror with a loud crash. Pain shot through her as she scrambled to her feet, her mind racing for a way out.

Ghostface moved closer, their knife raised.

Eve had no choice. She pulled out her own knife and swung wildly, her movements desperate. The blade connected with Ghostface's arm, and they let out a muffled cry of pain, staggering back.

This was her chance.

Eve bolted, weaving through the maze of mirrors, her heart pounding in her chest. She could hear Ghostface's footsteps behind her, growing louder, closer.

She rounded a corner and froze.

Noah was there, tied to a chair, his face bruised and bloodied. His eyes widened in panic when he saw her.

"Eve, get out of here!" he shouted, his voice hoarse.

But it was too late. Ghostface was right behind her.