Disclaimer: I do not own Scream; this is merely a fanfiction.
…
Woodsboro's Town Hall is abuzz that night, as dozens of A.T.R.O.D. members stand outside, banners and signs being waved, chanting repeatedly. Once a small organization, it has swelled in numbers – especially with the Reality TV Murders and the martyrdom of its leader, Mrs. Grady.
But Mrs. Grady's dream to eliminate everything indecent has been taken up by her son, Martin, who stands outside, leading the chants. Under Martin's leadership, A.T.R.O.D. persuaded Mayor Wilcox to ban all horror movies from Woodsboro and establish a town-wide curfew.
Even that isn't enough.
Martin lifts a megaphone to his lips. "The murders have started up again! And what has the mayor's response been? Nothing! Why hasn't he beefed up security – perhaps he doesn't care about his citizen's welfare? Well I say, call in the National Guard!"
The crowd roars with agreement.
Dewey and Judy pass by the screaming masses and head up the steps into the Town Hall. Dewey shakes his head. "Like mother, like son…"
Judy shrugs. "I guess being loud and pushy runs in that family."
Dewey's face is melancholy. "It's like I told you the other night – if the murders started up again, this town would simultaneously combust. The National Guard? Maybe they would help … but at what cost? You exchange one threat for another."
Judy looks at him questioningly. "What do you mean?"
"Maybe they can stop the killer … but bringing the National Guard in, mixed with the mass hysteria outside – you're asking for trouble."
Judy rubs her chin. "Like in Halloween 4."
"Come again?"
"Come on, Dewey. You should've been keeping up with horror movies like I have."
"Err … right, I know … sorry."
"Well let me tell you what happens." Judy clears her throat. "In Halloween 4, Michael Myers returns to his hometown of Haddonfield to kill his niece. The town panics and they form militia groups to hunt Michael down. The problem is, they get too jumpy and shoot at anything that moves. Unfortunately, they gun down an innocent teenager."
Dewey is waving his arms around in exasperation. "Exactly! My fear is that the same thing could happen here!"
"Let's try not to think about that," Judy says. "Let's try to remain optimistic."
"Easier said than done."
The duo enters the mayor's office. Mayor Wilcox is pouring a drink for himself and a guest – another aged gentlemen seated in the office. Dewey recognizes him immediately.
"Governor Hagen!"
Judy is perplexed. "The governor?"
Dewey is flabbergasted and stumbles over himself in his effort to shake the governor's hand and make a good impression. "Governor Hagen, sir, it's such an honor! Sheriff Dwight Riley at your service sir. Well, my name's Dwight, but everyone calls me Dewey; you see -." He says all of this very fast.
Governor Hagen cuts him off. "At ease, son."
Mayor Wilcox clears his throat, embarrassed by Dewey's display. "Please … everyone … sit down."
The Mayor hands the governor a glass of scotch. "The governor and I were just discussing … recent events."
"You mean the killings," Dewey says.
The governor's face falls. "Yes … terrible business, but not at all unsurprising. The last twenty years have been … well, let's just say the wrinkles on my face tell the story."
Judy clears her throat, entering the conversation. "Governor – weren't you once Mayor of Woodsboro?"
Governor Hagen leans back in his chair. "Ah … yes. Years ago … my term actually ended just before the initial Woodsboro Massacre."
"You were lucky," Mayor Wilcox laments. "It's not fun having a killer on the loose, and public opinion turning against you."
"Well that's why I'm here." Hagen sips his scotch. "Normally I would send a letter or a representative … but I feel I should be here in person. To boost the morale of Woodsboro's citizens. Put them at ease – show them that their mayor and governor are working together to stop these killings."
"With all due respect," Judy interjects, "the recent killings haven't happened in Woodsboro."
"Not yet," Governor Hagen replies. "And we intend to keep it that way. There's no telling where the killer might strike next. He might target Woodsboro, he might not. But we're not leaving it to chance. Especially now that A.T.R.O.D. has the whole town in its palm."
"We heard them on the way in," Dewey explains. "Mrs. Grady's son Martin was calling for the National Guard."
Governor Hagen sighs. "Ah, Mrs. Grady. I remember her years ago during my term. She was a plucky thing then – not bad looking back in the day. She was actually an independent journalist at the time. Was always snooping around, looking for any hint of corruption, believing herself the moral superior of others. A.T.R.O.D. was simply nothing more than her manifesting her ego."
"What will you do in response to these things?" Dewey asks. "You guys have banned all horror movies and put curfews in effect – but Woodsboro wants more."
Governor Hagen and Mayor Wilcox exchange uncomfortable looks. "That was exactly what we were discussing before you guys walked in. You see, the Mayor and I … well, our opinion polls are slipping, especially with the last two murder sprees. With this third one starting up, we have to save face – and keep our citizens safe. I say if A.T.R.O.D. is calling for the National Guard – let's bring them in."
Concern spreads across Dewey's face. "Are you sure that's wise? I mean -."
"Look Sheriff, the killing sprees have gotten too numerous now. We have to take action. No offense to your … umm, police department, but you don't exactly have a great track record with catching these psychos. Usually they reveal themselves and then goof up. So, we have to protect our people."
Dewey's eye twitches. "Give me a chance, governor. You'd be surprised how much I've learned since all the previous massacres."
"I'd be willing to take you a little more seriously, sheriff, if you didn't go by the name of 'Dewey'. Isn't that the name of one of Scrooge McDuck's grandsons anyway?"
"His name is Dwight," Judy replies, with a little too much hostility.
"Nevertheless, I am no longer relying on you guys to stop these murders. We need a powerful force that can save lives!"
"Give me a few days," Dewey replies, anger under his voice. "Just a few days, and I promise I'll catch this bastard. And if not … I'll turn in my badge."
Judy looks up at him sharply. "No …"
"Dewey nods. That's all … it was … nice … meeting you, Governor. Come on, Judy."
The two leave, slamming the door behind them.
The governor finishes his scotch. "What's got his goat?" He stands up, throwing a jacket over his suit. "Well, I must be on my way. We'll continue this conversation tomorrow?"
Mayor Wilcox follows him to the door. "Of course." He looks at Hagen very seriously. "And … stay safe, governor."
"Likewise."
Two bodyguards in suits appear, ready to take the governor to his limo. One bodyguard produces an envelope. "This was left on the limo anonymously. It's addressed to you."
"Okay, I'll read it in the limo. Goodnight." He shakes the mayor's hand one last time before departing.
The mayor shakes his head, pouring another glass of scotch for himself, preparing for the days ahead.
…
The governor sits in his limo as it speeds down the streets of Woodsboro. He opens the envelope up, pulling out a sheet of paper. His eyes scan the contents – his face contorts in shock.
The letter isn't written in ink.
It's written in blood.
And it is only one sentence long.
I know your secret!
The mayor shifts his eyes, before folding the letter up, putting it back into the envelope, and tearing it into pieces. He rolls down the window, tossing the pieces of the ripped letter out onto the street.
The ripped pieces of paper land in the hat of a hobo bumming for change. The bum shakes his fist at the limo. "This won't buy me vodka!"
…
Sidney is in her house, washing dishes, when the doorbell rings. Drying her hands on a towel, she goes over to the front door, answering it.
Kirby is standing there, a look of concern on her face.
"Kirby!" Sidney draws her into a hug, and then leads her into the house. "I was just about to make some tea, would you like some?"
"Sure. I just came over to check on you after your … accident."
"I'm fine, Kirby. I'm more concerned about your cousin and his friends. Are they okay?"
Kirby bites her lip. "They found a total of four dead bodies, Sidney…"
Sidney's eyes tear up. "No … who?"
"An Omega Beta Zeta girl who was home alone … her elderly neighbor across the street … and a member of Delta Lambda and a girl he brought home. As for the other partygoers, they were alright. Although your boyfriend thinks the killer might be one of them."
"One of them?"
Kirby sits down on a couch, sipping the tea Sidney had just given her. "Look … I know what you're thinking. Alan's a good kid, Sidney. He's not capable of killing bacteria – let alone a person."
Sidney sits in an armchair across from Kirby. "Look, I don't want to implicate your cousin, or any of them. It's just … don't be too shocked at the outcome of all this. Jill was my cousin too, remember that."
Kirby nods. "And … my best friend – or so I thought."
There is an awkward silence.
"I still think about Jill," Kirby says suddenly.
Sidney looks up at her. "What?"
"You weren't around Jill that much. She had a whole … different side to her than just the psycho-killer part you saw."
Sidney sips her tea. "I feel bad … the girl certainly had mental problems … sometimes I feel that if I had been active in her life … a lot could have been different. Remember, I used to council desperate girls when I was off-grid. Maybe I could've helped her."
"We can't blame ourselves for other people's actions, Sid. It's true, I wish things could be different. I wish it every day of my life. But Jill chose her own path. It's painful to think about. For a while, I didn't want to think about her – I wanted to erase all parts of her from my mind. But now, I realize that she was a different person before she snapped. The Jill that killed all those people was not the Jill I knew. The Jill I knew was killed by the Jill she became. Almost like how Obi-Wan claimed Darth Vader killed Anakin, even though they were the same person. Know what I mean?"
"Sort of. I feel that way about Billy sometimes. Before he snapped, he was the sweetest boyfriend ever. He would do … cute little things. Bring me stuffed teddy bears for no reason … come through my window just to surprise me. I like to remember that Billy … not the Billy that killed my mother and my friends."
Another awkward silence. "Let's be honest, Sidney. If you had to hazard a guess … who do you think the killer is this time?"
"I wouldn't know where to begin. It could be so many people … so many motives. I don't know. Dewey once told me that if there's a killer after us, he's probably already in our lives. We probably know the killer already."
Kirby nods. "I think you're right. But who?"
"Let's just hope we can figure this thing out before he strikes again."
Riing! Riing!
Sidney's house phone begins ringing, and she places her tea on the coffee table. Kirby watches with interest as Sidney answers it.
"Hello?"
"H-hello, is this Sidney?" A woman's voice. She sounds nervous, as her voice is cracking.
"This is Sidney Prescott. May I ask who's calling?"
"This is so … difficult."
"That's okay, take your time."
"Sidney, it's me. It's your … mom."
Revulsion crosses Sidney's face. "Excuse me?"
"It's your mother, Sidney. I've been … trying to find you for the last twenty years."
"No, that's impossible! My real mother is dead!"
"No Sidney, I'm your real mother. Look, I know this is unbelievable, but … but it's true!"
"How did you get this number?"
"Your friend Gale gave it to me … encouraged me to call you."
"Well she and I are going to have a little talk later."
"Sidney, please … I know this is difficult for you, but just hear me out."
"No! Don't ever call this number again!"
"Sidney, please -."
"You are NOT my mother!"
Sidney SLAMS the phone down, breathing deeply through her nose. She glares at Kirby, whose eyes are wide open in shock. Kirby takes a quick sip of her tea, putting on a cheesy smile, trying to mitigate the discomfort that now permeates the room.
