1

Sydney laughed so hard her drink almost came out of her nose. It had been a long time since she had laughed this much and she was out of practice. She found herself doing more and more things lately that she hadn't done since high school. She took walks at night again and even had a few close friends. Most importantly, though, she laughed.

It had been almost four years since the last murder, when Sydney had met and killed her older brother, Roman, and it had been over seven years since her life had been thrown in complete disarray by violence and fear. Sydney had spent the best years of her life alone and afraid, always looking over her shoulder. It was that fear that kept her shut off from her friends, people she knew that wanted to help her, but people who she would not put in harm's way. Too much blood was on her hands, and she couldn't have any more.

After hours of therapy and with a lot of help from her fiancé, Mark, Sydney was almost back to normal. She knew that no one was coming after her, and she was getting use to not having a ghost faced killer lurking in the dark corners of her home. The pain of the previous years was almost gone and Sydney Prescott was ready to move on.

_________

A small sedan pulled up to the two story red brick house near Adams College in Woodsboro, California. Four patrol cars and an ambulance sat in the driveway, lights flashing as uniformed officers hurried around them. A man in aviators opened the sedan door, and slightly limped as he stepped out of the car.

"Dewey, get the fuck out of here," called the Sheriff from across the yard.

"No can do, Sarge," Dewey Riley said as he pulled the glasses from his face.

Sheriff Burke walked up and put his arm around him. "Dewey you aren't on the payroll anymore, you haven't been for years. Besides, it's a real mess in there. Don't you have something better to do?" The Sheriff turned to the rookie. "Hey Rodney, can you escort this man out of here?"

Rodney Morris, the new deputy, was 23 with short blonde hair and an athletic build. Young and wide-eyed, he loved listening to Dewey's stories about the Woodsboro murders. He often snuck the ex-deputy into local crime scenes and let him poke around. Rodney didn't really understand Dewey's fascination with random murders, but respected him too much to ask.

"Sorry, Dewey, I've gotta escort you out, Sheriff's orders." Morris said. He leaned in and whispered, "Come back in about an hour or two."

Dewey nodded his head quickly, "Sorry to bother you again, Sheriff." With that he got in his car and drove away to wait at his favorite diner.

6 Hours Earlier

He had waited patiently for this moment. There had been so much planning and organizing for today. Everything had started with Sydney. Finding her hadn't been as hard as he thought; she'd become much lazier about her safety in the past year. He couldn't believe his luck the day he found her living a few miles outside of her hometown. Often times he could drop by her house and just watch. At first he thought her dog would be a problem, but all it took was a pocket full of treats one afternoon while Sydney was away to get the animal accepting of the stranger. Sometimes he would come by and play with Buster when Sydney wasn't home, just to make sure the dog didn't forget who he was.

There had been close calls, of course. That damn fiancée of hers had been a cop and had a heightened sense of things. At times he was almost sure the ex-cop knew someone was stalking them. One night Mark had even looked directly at the silent stalker through a window in Sydney's house. The man knew that with the inside lights on Mark couldn't see him, but it still startled him and reminded him to move with caution.

He was full of anticipation. This would be a test run to see if he could do it. He had chosen a house where he knew young college girls lived. He had followed them and listened to phone conversations. This was the perfect murder to set it off. He had no connection to the victims, making his real trail harder to follow. He was fascinated with the puzzle this murder would create.

Tonight it would be set in motion. With a few well rehearsed moves of his knife he would announce his presence to the world and put those who had come before him to shame. The time would be right soon and he could get moving. He just had to sit a little longer.

Silently, the killer put on his mask and waited. Let the games begin.

_________

Across the street the four girls enjoyed their Friday night. During the summer campus was dead, leaving not much to do on the weekends. Sometimes they'd spend hours making themselves up and drinking the night away at one of the three bars in town. It was late July though, and both the local nightlife and the stock of single men in town had grown boring. Most nights Leslie, Cathleen, Liz and Kasey just stayed home and drank.

"Oh my God, did you really do it with Jonah?"

"I so did!" Cathleen giggled. Jonah was a local and had spent the last few weekends hanging around the girls' house, not particularly caring which he ended up with.

"You slut! I thought we were all just dragging him along so we could get free booze? Besides, he creeps me out," Leslie said as she got off the bed and made her way to the door. "I'm going downstairs to make another drink, does anyone want anything?"

"Get me some cookies, hoe!"

"Get your own cookies, bitch" she laughed," I'm just making another vodka Seven."

Downstairs, Leslie made her way through the house towards the kitchen. Most of the lights were off, but she knew her way around so well it wasn't a problem. In the kitchen, Leslie threw open the door to let the light inside fill the room. She bent over to search for the last soda in the back of the fridge when an odd sound caught her attention. Leslie's head shot up and her eyes strained to look around the dimly lit room. It sounded like breathing, but after seeing nothing, she resumed her search for the mixer.

With her head back in the refrigerator, something caught Leslie's eye. Below the open door were two black objects on the ground. They looked almost like a pair of boots.

In one swift motion the door slammed on her head, leaving her too stunned to react as a warm sensation began filling her throat. Leslie tasted copper and had trouble breathing. Feeling like she was suffocating, the young girl reached up to her throat, only to find a large gash running across the middle of her neck, pouring blood over her hands. Leslie wanted to scream but couldn't make a sound as the world grew black around her.

The dark figure wasn't satisfied with the kill but knew he had to be quiet and not alert the girls upstairs. Opening the door fully, the young girl fell to the floor, a soft gurgling sound coming from her mouth.

Upstairs the girls could hear their friend banging around in the kitchen.

"Does she even know where the drinks are?" Kasey asked, rolling her eyes.

"I guess someone should go check on her," Liz halfheartedly offered, not really wanting to get up.

"I'll do it," Cathleen said. "I'm sure she'll forget my cookies if I don't get them myself anyway."

Jogging down the stairs, Cathleen made it to the kitchen quickly. With all of the lights out, she couldn't see a thing. Feeling around for the switch, Cathleen turned on the lights, stopping dead in her tracks. As she comprehended the bloody scene and a scream built in her throat, the kitchen door slammed hard in her face.

Cathleen fell backwards with a thud and looked up to see a big black boot coming down on her. Everything went fuzzy as she felt her nose break. Tears uncontrollably poured from her eyes and she tried to make sense of it all. No words came out as the foot was lowered again, harder. Cathleen couldn't think straight. What was happening? All she could comprehend was the pain. The man lowered his boot harder and felt her face give way. Pushing harder, the boot squished below him.

The commotion downstairs was unavoidable; something was happening down there. Kasey reached for a coat hanger lying beside her. She knew it wouldn't offer much protection, but she needed something in her hands as a weapon. Whoever was down there was coming up the stair quickly, and there was nowhere to go.

Liz jumped to her feet and slammed into the door, locking it as it closed. She felt someone throw their weight against the door on the other side and heard a scratching sound by the knob. As it began to turn, she grabbed it with both hands and braced against the turning knob. He was too strong for her though and forced the door open, throwing Liz to the ground. Seeing the large black figure in the room, Kasey flew towards him, swinging the hanger wildly. Ducking to the side, the killer was hit in the face by a phone Liz had pulled from the desk and thrown at him. While he was dazed, Kasey shoved him to the side and attempted to run by. With a slash of the knife, he caught Kasey's ankle, sending her tumbling down the stairs.

Picking the phone up from the ground, the killer positioned himself between Liz and the door, slowly moving towards her. She cried wildly and stood to confront him. The man lunged for her, but was caught by surprise with a kick to the stomach. He doubled over, barely hooking her with his arm as she tried running by. The young girl screamed as he used the arm to throw her at the bed, toppling over it. Lying on the floor dazed, she watched as he wrapped the phone's cord around her neck, tightening it. Her arms swung wildly, connecting with his shoulders and strong chest. Removing a knife from his belt, he plunged it into her stomach again and again. Using the cord, Liz was lifted up to her feet and taken into his arms. Swinging the small girl around wildly, the man let her loose, crashing through the window and falling to the driveway two stories below.

Surveying the situation, he felt nothing but pride for his first kills. Despite their large number, he'd sustained no real injuries and took his time savoring the scene. He slowly walked down the stairs to the injured girl below. After her ankle had been slashed, Kasey had fallen down the stairs, banging her head and body hard. Unable to walk, she attempted crawling away on a badly broken arm. He heard her crying softly as he walked up behind her, knowing he was in the room with her. In a final plea she called for her mother as he grabbed her hair, raising her off the ground. He was a new man, and was filled with satisfaction as he plunged the knife into the back of her neck.

He was ready.