Author Notes: I originally wasn't going to post this prologue, due to the fact that I haven't finished the story yet…but beside that, I wanted this up for a web design project, and I kind of wanted to see what people would say about it. This doesn't go by the anime, but since I don't have all the manga myself, I'm going to be using it as a reference. However, this doesn't really start at any particular manga/anime episode, but Sunako will be turning sixteen in the first chapter (not the prologue).

Remember, this is a Scream/The Wallflower crossover. I'm not so big on the Kyohei/Sunako pairing, so we're going for something completely fresh and new – Ghostface/Sunako! If you've never seen the movie(s), than I suggest going to Wikipedia or Google and looking up "Scream trilogy" – Ghostface's history will be mentioned in this story (most likely a lot), but I think it would be better if everyone knew the background anyway. And if you're too lazy to do that, that's okay, too.

Author Note –MUST READ: I know that Sunako lives in Tokyo with the others, and as far as I know, there isn't a little run-down section where no one but she (and Ghostface) would wander in, but that's why this is fiction. Let's just pretend there is. Also, I do not own Scream or The Wallflower – they belong to their respective owners. I am merely borrowing these characters for my own, twisted enjoyment.

This prologue is told from Sunako's point-of-view, but the story later on will be in third person.

Prologue

It seems like some beautiful, haunting dream. It would be something of a nightmare to other "normal" people, but to me it's something that I will cherish forever, even if I can never see that creature of the darkness again.

I don't know why I decided to take a shortcut and drift through the alleyways between the run-down buildings that particular evening. I wasn't worried – no one lived there anymore. It was something of a ghost town, were few people wandered into in fear of getting lost in the decaying abyss. Not even gangs or crooks wandered through there anymore, save the foolish ones that ended up disappearing mysteriously. I, however, had been through there countless times. It's such a dark, deserted place, where no other human dares to cross. It's my special place.

It was there that I first saw him, standing on the roof of a two-story building. I thought I was hallucinating, at first. No one ever came around here. And after all, a fellow creature of the darkness…is so rarely seen.

I never saw his true face, as the ghostly mask blocked it from view, but I didn't mind – I rather preferred to see it. His mask suited him, intensifying that dark aura around him tenfold. It was stuck in an endless scream, its eyes, mouth and rather skeletal nose an endless void of black.

I was standing in his rather large shadow that somehow drifted down below to where I stood. As if he felt a presence, he caught my stare rather swiftly, and there was a deep silence about us. A light gust of wind blew, tossing his black robes into the air, and I noticed that they were extremely tattered, as if someone had slashed them repeatedly – perhaps he was a ghost out for revenge against the ones who wronged him.

I felt like I could look into that mask's deep sockets forever – they were so hypnotizing, so alluring… They pulled me in, and I felt I could not, would not look away. I could feel his eyes staring straight into mine.

Although I could not see his eyes, I felt an unspoken understanding between us in that moment. "We are alike," I whispered, giving a small smile – odd, as I haven't really smiled at something outside of my movies in a long while. To my surprise, he gave a nod. A strong breeze blew my hair over my eyes, temporarily blinding me.

Then I heard a sudden swish of clothing, and just as quickly as I had seen him, he was gone.

It took me a lifetime to destroy all of my childhood dreams, and as soon as our eyes locked, I suddenly felt them rush back at full force. My soul was at the bottom of a pit, and I felt as if he had pulled it forth and healed it with a mere glance at me.

When I tried to drift off to sleep later that night, his mask seemed to worm its way into my conscience. It seemed as if everywhere I looked, he was staring at me through those endless back voids that were the eyes of his mask.

And when I did fall sleep, he was there in my dreams, a hunting knife in his hand. He stood on the roof, next to the clock tower, of a gothic-style church overlooking a small town. The wind blew, tossing the robes into the air. His right hand, holding the knife, was a blood red, as if he had dipped it in someone's wound; his other had a black glove covering it.

He looked over the little town with what seemed to be anticipation and pride. "You're one microscopic cog in his catastrophic plan…" He laughed then, his deep, raspy voice seeming to echo in my head.

Was everything a dream? Maybe Kyohei's right – I am crazy. Or if not before, I am now. Somehow, he seems so familiar. Where have I seen him before…?

I kept waking up at odd times during the night, and each time, woke with feelings that I was close to the answer. I nearly laughed when I saw that I had woken up at exactly three a.m. After that, I couldn't go back to sleep. No matter what, all I could see was that man on the church's bell tower in my dreams, looking over the town with a sense of eagerness and content at once.

Why do I feel like I know him?

To be continued…

Author Notes: If you noticed, I added some hints at Nick Cave's "Red Right Hand". I hope you enjoyed this, and I'm really sorry about all the notes at the beginning, but I wanted to clear things up before I started. Please read and review!