Chapter Two
Sidney Prescott glared out of the window, starring at the passing trees. Sidney sighed, remembering the last time she had gone to Woodsboro, it had been the beginning and finale of the nightmares. Sidney closed her eyes, and at that instant, remembered the horrible Ghost Mask the killer had used. Sidney was also reminded of the very last attack, dealing with Roman Bridges, who was the crazy maniac killer. Sidney had not gone into hiding, for she knew that no matter what, they would always come back, until she was dead. But deep in her hart, she hoped that the attacks would stop, would end immanently after the third attack. "STAB 3: RETURN TO WOODSBORO" had risen Sidney's fears of another attack, since with big box office hits (Number One in the Box Office for more then four weeks strait) that "STAB 4" would bring back a new killer, and this time, the killer would be smarter and lust for blood more then ever, that was what frightened her, but each time a strange event like this happened, she always faced it, and she had always won. Billy Loomis and Stu Macher were the original killers, and Roman Bridges was the third and finale killer. Sidney closed her eyes, the long van riding against good old Woodsboro lane.
Suddenly, the van stopped dead in its tracks. Sidney's body was pushed forward, her head hitting the chair in front of her. 'Ow,' Sidney whispered as she laid one of her arms on her forehead, rubbing against it, loosening the pain. Sidney looked ahead, wondering what was happening. Sidney starred strait forward, only seeing the motionless bodies of the driver and police guard, and on the window, a few pints of blood was scattered all over. Sidney raised her hand, slapping the two guards' faces, attempting to wake them up. A phone rang. Sidney instantly jumped after a fierce scream, hitting her head again. She desperately roamed around in her pocket, searching for the phone. "Hello, who's this?" Sidney asked.
"No more games, Sidney, you know who this is." The voice was familiar; she had heard it too many times. Her eyes deepened with concern, and from one of her jacket pockets, she grasped a knife in her hand, with the phone in the other. Sidney was more then ready to fight one last round. "So, how have things been going these past six months?"
"Oh, you know, the usual stuff, waiting for your sort of bastards to come around," Sidney replied, rolling her eyes. "You? Down to business, what do you wan this time?" Sidney said in sarcasm.
"It's not smart to use sarcasm in this sort of predicament Sidney," said the voice on the phone. "I just want to pay a little visit, see how you're doing, see if I can finally kill you this time." The voice started to sound more relaxed, not that sinister voice she had become to know, but with that same ruthless sent. "I must say, I'm quite astonished you made it through the trilogy, Sidney. By the third one, you were prepared, weren't you Sid? Now, in the fourth film, you're more then prepared, you're ready to fight."
Sidney rolled her eyes again, apparently board from all this chitchat. "Yeah, so, I'm really prepared? I'm prepared to survive, survive through weird people like you, people who loose their minds in scary movies. Now, are we still going to talk or are we going to fight?" Sidney asked, starring around the car, looking for a sign of the all too familiar costume the killer always wore.
"Why are you so anxious to get into the fight, Sidney?" the killer said. "I need to examine you first, know your motives and how you fight, then we will meet. And after the first four rounds, we finally meet, and I'll tell you my motive. It's quite a simple motive, really. Anyway, it appears the only way for you to get home our to safety is to walk. I flattened your tires, Sid, and I'll be watching you. And also, call the police and track the call, I urge you to." With that, the killer hung up.
Sidney opened the car door, still holding the knife tighter then ever. She bent over, looking underneath the car. There was nothing, just the cement and the line of green grass on the other end of the car. Sidney instantly turned around as she stood up, thinking that someone would be right behind her, but only the large set of trees were in front. There was nothing in site, but Sidney was still cautious. Sidney took her cell phone, calling the ambulance. She looked through the car windows, starring at the lifeless bodies of the driver and the police guard that had been transporting her to places for the past six months. Somehow, she knew that it all wasn't over, but at the same time, Sidney was surprised that there would be someone crazy enough to attempt a fourth attack, in this case, fourth film. 'It's all a movie, Sidney,' she remembered Billy Loomis saying. Sid opened the car door, checking the pulse of the driver, dead. She glared at the scare that was on the driver's forehead. The killer had not killed him, instead, the driver's head zoomed up as the car went to a halt and his head slammed into the windshield. She looked at the large crack from the broken glass. Suddenly, a women's voice came over the cell phone. "Hello, this is the Woodsboro Clinic, how may I help you?" the women asked. Sidney glanced at the street sign.
"Hello, my name is Sidney Prescott, I need an ambulance at Rattenberg Street at the corner of the Woodsboro Bowling Center. Please hurry; one cop and a driver are brutally injured, one is dead." Sidney waited for a reply, but none came. Sidney turned off the phone, slowly putting it back into her pocket, and felt two black eyes weighing on her. Sidney turned back instantly, at the forest by the end of the street, searching for the all- too familiar Ghost Mask the killer wore. Sidney saw none; her skin was cold and her body was weary, she had barley had any sleep for a while; and she was more then aggressive-more then ready to fight. Sidney took a gun from her jacket pocket, walking into the small forestland. She held the gun like it was the only thing on the Earth that could keep her alive; Sidney pointed the gun forward, walking slowly, covering as much of land as she could. Sidney pressed the gun in all directions, her breathing becoming higher. Sidney jumped as her cell phone rang. Sid dropped the gun accidentally as she took the phone from her pocket. "Hello?"
"Can you just stop searching for me already?" the blank, emotionless voice said. "I'm not there, I'm here." The voice turned into sarcasm like it did before, instead of the usual haunting sort of voice, not yet revealing the person's real tone of voice from within. Sidney turned around, looking at the van she was in. There was no sign of him. "I'm over here! I'm waving to you! Matter of fact, I can see you as plain as day. How close you are. Your breathing."
"Listen you Psycho!" Sidney yelled, not able to finish her sentence.
"No! Listen to me you pathetic waste of crap! I make the rules, and you follow the rules. Your little bud Randy isn't here to tell you the rules of a fourth film; so I'll be the creator of the rules," The Ghost voice spoke. "I have been waiting for this for a very, very long time, as Billy and Roman attempted so many times to kill you, but now, it's my turn. Now, be a good little goat and run! Take the gun and run! And don't you even attempt to look back!"
The Ghost had hung up, and Sidney held the phone in fear, but at the same time, amused of the heeding words. Sidney sighed, and walked out of the small forestland, confident that The Ghost would not follow. Sidney didn't know the exact motive of The Ghost this time, but she did know a few things on how The Ghost 4 wanted to play things this time around. Besides, not until the very last part of the never-ending battle would the Ghosts' real motive be revealed. Sidney walked out, running towards the Woodsboro College as fast as her legs could move her.
*** Mr. Devon D. Knight sat in his roll around chair alone, in the dark sets of 'Stab 4,' admiring his work, at the same time thinking of a plot. Mr. Knight's eyes were closed, imagining a good ending and good scary moments that would make the audience scream and jump; but so many good ideas have already been used or wasted on something else from the movie or another horror flick. Maybe the death of Sidney Prescott would bring a new twist and love to the series, and reinvent it for a new generation. Suddenly, Mr. Knight imagined a sliver knife slicing through his throat. Mr. Knight's eyes quickly opened in a flash of light, relieved that he was still in his dark office room. Mr. Knight sighed, and leaned back on his chair. The phone rang. Once. Twice. Three times. Fourth time. Fifth time. Sixth time. Finally, Mr. Knight took the phone to his ear and mouth. "Devon Knight speaking."
"Hello Mr. Knight," the cold-hearted voice said on the phone. "I understand that you have just gotten a new script in; I urge you to read it right away. It's in your mail box." The voice was quiet, waiting for a reply from Mr. Knight.
Devon looked at his watch. "I'm sorry, you must have the times mixed up, it's on six in the morning, the mail doesn't come until two in the afternoon." Devon leaned back on his chair again, waiting for an answer from the mysterious voice.
"You're right, how sorry I am, but please, look in your mail box...outside." The voice was cold and silent; the only sound from the phone was a weird static sound. Devon walked out from his dark office room, and walked to his outside mailbox. What he found was a thick script, what should be more then two hundred pages to read. Devon sighed, knowing that he would need to read the script right away. Devon starred at the name. "STAB 4: THE HOMECOMING," but he was more confused by the name of the author, "The Ghost." Maybe this was just some stupid joke someone had played on him, maybe a die-hard fan. But Devon Knight examined the wrapping of the script, it was nicely done with the brown thick color around the back and around the middle of the script. It looked almost like a official submission. Devon walked back into his office, picking up the phone. "Do you like it? Sorry for the wrong naming."
"You wrote this?" Devon asked. "It looks quite good." Devon opened the plastic wrapping, and starred at the title and the first few pages, skimming around. "I like the name, HOMECOMING, just sounds good. Maybe something along the lines as 'STAB 4: TORMENT' or something really evil, ghostly, or nasty. Like, 'GHOST FACE.' Yeah, that's it, GHOST FACE!" There was no response from the creepy voice on the end of the phone. The person had hung up. "Hello? Oh well." Devon threw the phone back on its crattle and started to read the script. From the very first line, Devon was entranced into the story, and how the characters were developed. Minutes and hours passed as he kept reading the entire screenplay. Finally, at eight in the morning, Devon Knight read the concluding page:
"INTERIOR - WOODSBORO COLLEGE - NIGHT
"SIDNEY ran by the chairs, running frantically, THE GHOST quickly progressing to her, knife in its hand. SIDNEY falls, and THE GHOST rises in the air, with SIDNEY only seconds to deflect the blow that is coming, but instead refuses, knowing she would die. THE GHOST's KNIFE ZOOMS DIRECTLY TO ONE OF HER EYES! SIDNEY raises one of her hands to catch the knife, before it REACHES her EYE. The KNIFE is only CENTIMETERS away from SID's eyes. SIDNEY pushes THE GHOST back with her feet and runs to the stage. There, THE GHOST throws its knife and hits SIDNEY directly in the BACK, with her crying in pain, screaming, her life passing before her."
"THE GHOST walks over, and takes the knife from SIDNEY's back, and SLASHES her OVER and OVER AGAIN, until finally, her entire body is soaked in blood. SIDNEY is more then DEAD! THE GHOST walks away from the LIFELESS body of SIDNEY, and runs away from the WOODSBORO COLLEGE.
"THE GHOST turns back to the camera's DIRECTION one last time, RAISING his right hand, slowly taking off the GHOST MASK, we see a inch of white skin. THE GHOST MASK is raised up, more, more, more...then...
"BLACK OUT
THE END"
Devon was in awe over the finale page of the script, his mouth was more then open. Devon's eyes were wide open, and he walked out of his chair, starring out of his window, looking at the hundreds of workers who were working on the 'STAB 4' set. Devon got up, and walked towards the window, opening the door. Almost all the workers stopped what they were doing, waiting for an announcement or something to come from Mr. Knight. Finally, he spoke, "I have in my possession the finest script in the entire world. We are going to be using this script for now on as reference, and this is going to be the script that is filmed. I don't give a damn about what the rest of you think, 'Stab 4' will be made, and this script is what will BE FILMED!" He yelled, holding the script in his hand, raising it around like it was pure gold.
***
Sidney ran through the school halls, glancing through the small windows that were on most doors. Sidney was surprised at how much college had changed since she had been in it, but due to uncontrollable events, she had to drop out from college. Sidney stopped by a brown door. The name of the teacher sounded familiar. Sidney starred into the room, spying on Ray, who was listening to Mrs. Riley. Sidney opened the door, starring at Ray, then the teacher. "Excuse me Mrs. Riley, I need to burrow Ray for a moment," Sidney said.
"You're Sidney Prescott, aren't you?" the teacher said, in surprise, but at the same time admiration. "I'm a big fan of you! I'm so happy you're alive! Oh! How have you been doing?! I heard that you must have died since they haven't found a body or any new information about you in like, a very, very long time, but look! Here you are! All alive-and-stuff. Anyway, how have you been? Oh, wait, Ray, oh yes, Ray darling, can you come here please?"
Ray stood up from his desk and walked over to Sidney. "Thank god you got me out of here, I thought I would barf!" Ray whispered in Sidney's ear. Sidney smiled, and turned back to the teacher.
"Um, thanks. Have a nice day, call you tomorrow," Sidney lied, desperate to leave the room. As she opened the door and left, she rolled her eyes in disgust. "How do you survive that class?"
"I sleep," Ray answered. "So, what do you need?"
"I need help on how to survive a fourth film, or what the rules are. You were a great friend to Randy, you should know this," Sidney told him. Sidney was more then desperate, she was bagging!
"Well, Sid, this is quite odd; I mean, I never knew there were rules for a fourth film. Sure, there was FRIDAY THE 13TH Part Four, and a NIGHTMARE ON ELM STREET Part Four, but still, the rules have never been stated. At the moment, my mind's drawing a blank. From what I know, the killer is calling the shots, bending things at his or her will. Why? What's going on?" Ray said.
"I'll tell you later, anyway, do you know what the killer's motive would be for a fourth film?" Sidney asked.
Ray laughed out loud. "Sid, please! Now that's a joke! No one knows the motive of the killer until the end. He or she, usually the psycho boyfriend or the psycho female friend, give a few hints of a motive and then...POOF...no more hints or anything of the sort. But if the killer were more then desperate to finally make the final act, then, I would say, there would be more hints, just for the hero or heroin to know who the killer is. So, final word is, the killer makes the rules, just try to survive, Sidney." Ray starred at Sid.
Sidney was thinking about the hints Ray had given her. "The killer makes the rules then, is that what you're saying? So I'm powerless against him?" Sidney asked.
"Well, basically yes. You could use guns, knives, and some other weapons to defend yourself, but seriously, from the third movie, the killer turns almost superhuman. I mean, look at Michael Myers. In the original and in Number Four (HALLOWEEN 4: THE RETURN OF MICHAEL MYERS) he takes six shots all over his body, but still survives (then Enter: HALLOWEEN II and HALLOWEEN 5), incredible really, but that's just a movie. Anyway, yeah, knives and guns, that's what I would use."
"Thanks, Ray, thanks for your help," Sidney said, and turned away, and walked towards the doors.
"Hey, Sid," she heard Ray say.
"Yes?"
"Be careful, alright?"
"Promise." Sidney walked out of the Century College doors, ready to consult an old friend.
Sidney Prescott glared out of the window, starring at the passing trees. Sidney sighed, remembering the last time she had gone to Woodsboro, it had been the beginning and finale of the nightmares. Sidney closed her eyes, and at that instant, remembered the horrible Ghost Mask the killer had used. Sidney was also reminded of the very last attack, dealing with Roman Bridges, who was the crazy maniac killer. Sidney had not gone into hiding, for she knew that no matter what, they would always come back, until she was dead. But deep in her hart, she hoped that the attacks would stop, would end immanently after the third attack. "STAB 3: RETURN TO WOODSBORO" had risen Sidney's fears of another attack, since with big box office hits (Number One in the Box Office for more then four weeks strait) that "STAB 4" would bring back a new killer, and this time, the killer would be smarter and lust for blood more then ever, that was what frightened her, but each time a strange event like this happened, she always faced it, and she had always won. Billy Loomis and Stu Macher were the original killers, and Roman Bridges was the third and finale killer. Sidney closed her eyes, the long van riding against good old Woodsboro lane.
Suddenly, the van stopped dead in its tracks. Sidney's body was pushed forward, her head hitting the chair in front of her. 'Ow,' Sidney whispered as she laid one of her arms on her forehead, rubbing against it, loosening the pain. Sidney looked ahead, wondering what was happening. Sidney starred strait forward, only seeing the motionless bodies of the driver and police guard, and on the window, a few pints of blood was scattered all over. Sidney raised her hand, slapping the two guards' faces, attempting to wake them up. A phone rang. Sidney instantly jumped after a fierce scream, hitting her head again. She desperately roamed around in her pocket, searching for the phone. "Hello, who's this?" Sidney asked.
"No more games, Sidney, you know who this is." The voice was familiar; she had heard it too many times. Her eyes deepened with concern, and from one of her jacket pockets, she grasped a knife in her hand, with the phone in the other. Sidney was more then ready to fight one last round. "So, how have things been going these past six months?"
"Oh, you know, the usual stuff, waiting for your sort of bastards to come around," Sidney replied, rolling her eyes. "You? Down to business, what do you wan this time?" Sidney said in sarcasm.
"It's not smart to use sarcasm in this sort of predicament Sidney," said the voice on the phone. "I just want to pay a little visit, see how you're doing, see if I can finally kill you this time." The voice started to sound more relaxed, not that sinister voice she had become to know, but with that same ruthless sent. "I must say, I'm quite astonished you made it through the trilogy, Sidney. By the third one, you were prepared, weren't you Sid? Now, in the fourth film, you're more then prepared, you're ready to fight."
Sidney rolled her eyes again, apparently board from all this chitchat. "Yeah, so, I'm really prepared? I'm prepared to survive, survive through weird people like you, people who loose their minds in scary movies. Now, are we still going to talk or are we going to fight?" Sidney asked, starring around the car, looking for a sign of the all too familiar costume the killer always wore.
"Why are you so anxious to get into the fight, Sidney?" the killer said. "I need to examine you first, know your motives and how you fight, then we will meet. And after the first four rounds, we finally meet, and I'll tell you my motive. It's quite a simple motive, really. Anyway, it appears the only way for you to get home our to safety is to walk. I flattened your tires, Sid, and I'll be watching you. And also, call the police and track the call, I urge you to." With that, the killer hung up.
Sidney opened the car door, still holding the knife tighter then ever. She bent over, looking underneath the car. There was nothing, just the cement and the line of green grass on the other end of the car. Sidney instantly turned around as she stood up, thinking that someone would be right behind her, but only the large set of trees were in front. There was nothing in site, but Sidney was still cautious. Sidney took her cell phone, calling the ambulance. She looked through the car windows, starring at the lifeless bodies of the driver and the police guard that had been transporting her to places for the past six months. Somehow, she knew that it all wasn't over, but at the same time, Sidney was surprised that there would be someone crazy enough to attempt a fourth attack, in this case, fourth film. 'It's all a movie, Sidney,' she remembered Billy Loomis saying. Sid opened the car door, checking the pulse of the driver, dead. She glared at the scare that was on the driver's forehead. The killer had not killed him, instead, the driver's head zoomed up as the car went to a halt and his head slammed into the windshield. She looked at the large crack from the broken glass. Suddenly, a women's voice came over the cell phone. "Hello, this is the Woodsboro Clinic, how may I help you?" the women asked. Sidney glanced at the street sign.
"Hello, my name is Sidney Prescott, I need an ambulance at Rattenberg Street at the corner of the Woodsboro Bowling Center. Please hurry; one cop and a driver are brutally injured, one is dead." Sidney waited for a reply, but none came. Sidney turned off the phone, slowly putting it back into her pocket, and felt two black eyes weighing on her. Sidney turned back instantly, at the forest by the end of the street, searching for the all- too familiar Ghost Mask the killer wore. Sidney saw none; her skin was cold and her body was weary, she had barley had any sleep for a while; and she was more then aggressive-more then ready to fight. Sidney took a gun from her jacket pocket, walking into the small forestland. She held the gun like it was the only thing on the Earth that could keep her alive; Sidney pointed the gun forward, walking slowly, covering as much of land as she could. Sidney pressed the gun in all directions, her breathing becoming higher. Sidney jumped as her cell phone rang. Sid dropped the gun accidentally as she took the phone from her pocket. "Hello?"
"Can you just stop searching for me already?" the blank, emotionless voice said. "I'm not there, I'm here." The voice turned into sarcasm like it did before, instead of the usual haunting sort of voice, not yet revealing the person's real tone of voice from within. Sidney turned around, looking at the van she was in. There was no sign of him. "I'm over here! I'm waving to you! Matter of fact, I can see you as plain as day. How close you are. Your breathing."
"Listen you Psycho!" Sidney yelled, not able to finish her sentence.
"No! Listen to me you pathetic waste of crap! I make the rules, and you follow the rules. Your little bud Randy isn't here to tell you the rules of a fourth film; so I'll be the creator of the rules," The Ghost voice spoke. "I have been waiting for this for a very, very long time, as Billy and Roman attempted so many times to kill you, but now, it's my turn. Now, be a good little goat and run! Take the gun and run! And don't you even attempt to look back!"
The Ghost had hung up, and Sidney held the phone in fear, but at the same time, amused of the heeding words. Sidney sighed, and walked out of the small forestland, confident that The Ghost would not follow. Sidney didn't know the exact motive of The Ghost this time, but she did know a few things on how The Ghost 4 wanted to play things this time around. Besides, not until the very last part of the never-ending battle would the Ghosts' real motive be revealed. Sidney walked out, running towards the Woodsboro College as fast as her legs could move her.
*** Mr. Devon D. Knight sat in his roll around chair alone, in the dark sets of 'Stab 4,' admiring his work, at the same time thinking of a plot. Mr. Knight's eyes were closed, imagining a good ending and good scary moments that would make the audience scream and jump; but so many good ideas have already been used or wasted on something else from the movie or another horror flick. Maybe the death of Sidney Prescott would bring a new twist and love to the series, and reinvent it for a new generation. Suddenly, Mr. Knight imagined a sliver knife slicing through his throat. Mr. Knight's eyes quickly opened in a flash of light, relieved that he was still in his dark office room. Mr. Knight sighed, and leaned back on his chair. The phone rang. Once. Twice. Three times. Fourth time. Fifth time. Sixth time. Finally, Mr. Knight took the phone to his ear and mouth. "Devon Knight speaking."
"Hello Mr. Knight," the cold-hearted voice said on the phone. "I understand that you have just gotten a new script in; I urge you to read it right away. It's in your mail box." The voice was quiet, waiting for a reply from Mr. Knight.
Devon looked at his watch. "I'm sorry, you must have the times mixed up, it's on six in the morning, the mail doesn't come until two in the afternoon." Devon leaned back on his chair again, waiting for an answer from the mysterious voice.
"You're right, how sorry I am, but please, look in your mail box...outside." The voice was cold and silent; the only sound from the phone was a weird static sound. Devon walked out from his dark office room, and walked to his outside mailbox. What he found was a thick script, what should be more then two hundred pages to read. Devon sighed, knowing that he would need to read the script right away. Devon starred at the name. "STAB 4: THE HOMECOMING," but he was more confused by the name of the author, "The Ghost." Maybe this was just some stupid joke someone had played on him, maybe a die-hard fan. But Devon Knight examined the wrapping of the script, it was nicely done with the brown thick color around the back and around the middle of the script. It looked almost like a official submission. Devon walked back into his office, picking up the phone. "Do you like it? Sorry for the wrong naming."
"You wrote this?" Devon asked. "It looks quite good." Devon opened the plastic wrapping, and starred at the title and the first few pages, skimming around. "I like the name, HOMECOMING, just sounds good. Maybe something along the lines as 'STAB 4: TORMENT' or something really evil, ghostly, or nasty. Like, 'GHOST FACE.' Yeah, that's it, GHOST FACE!" There was no response from the creepy voice on the end of the phone. The person had hung up. "Hello? Oh well." Devon threw the phone back on its crattle and started to read the script. From the very first line, Devon was entranced into the story, and how the characters were developed. Minutes and hours passed as he kept reading the entire screenplay. Finally, at eight in the morning, Devon Knight read the concluding page:
"INTERIOR - WOODSBORO COLLEGE - NIGHT
"SIDNEY ran by the chairs, running frantically, THE GHOST quickly progressing to her, knife in its hand. SIDNEY falls, and THE GHOST rises in the air, with SIDNEY only seconds to deflect the blow that is coming, but instead refuses, knowing she would die. THE GHOST's KNIFE ZOOMS DIRECTLY TO ONE OF HER EYES! SIDNEY raises one of her hands to catch the knife, before it REACHES her EYE. The KNIFE is only CENTIMETERS away from SID's eyes. SIDNEY pushes THE GHOST back with her feet and runs to the stage. There, THE GHOST throws its knife and hits SIDNEY directly in the BACK, with her crying in pain, screaming, her life passing before her."
"THE GHOST walks over, and takes the knife from SIDNEY's back, and SLASHES her OVER and OVER AGAIN, until finally, her entire body is soaked in blood. SIDNEY is more then DEAD! THE GHOST walks away from the LIFELESS body of SIDNEY, and runs away from the WOODSBORO COLLEGE.
"THE GHOST turns back to the camera's DIRECTION one last time, RAISING his right hand, slowly taking off the GHOST MASK, we see a inch of white skin. THE GHOST MASK is raised up, more, more, more...then...
"BLACK OUT
THE END"
Devon was in awe over the finale page of the script, his mouth was more then open. Devon's eyes were wide open, and he walked out of his chair, starring out of his window, looking at the hundreds of workers who were working on the 'STAB 4' set. Devon got up, and walked towards the window, opening the door. Almost all the workers stopped what they were doing, waiting for an announcement or something to come from Mr. Knight. Finally, he spoke, "I have in my possession the finest script in the entire world. We are going to be using this script for now on as reference, and this is going to be the script that is filmed. I don't give a damn about what the rest of you think, 'Stab 4' will be made, and this script is what will BE FILMED!" He yelled, holding the script in his hand, raising it around like it was pure gold.
***
Sidney ran through the school halls, glancing through the small windows that were on most doors. Sidney was surprised at how much college had changed since she had been in it, but due to uncontrollable events, she had to drop out from college. Sidney stopped by a brown door. The name of the teacher sounded familiar. Sidney starred into the room, spying on Ray, who was listening to Mrs. Riley. Sidney opened the door, starring at Ray, then the teacher. "Excuse me Mrs. Riley, I need to burrow Ray for a moment," Sidney said.
"You're Sidney Prescott, aren't you?" the teacher said, in surprise, but at the same time admiration. "I'm a big fan of you! I'm so happy you're alive! Oh! How have you been doing?! I heard that you must have died since they haven't found a body or any new information about you in like, a very, very long time, but look! Here you are! All alive-and-stuff. Anyway, how have you been? Oh, wait, Ray, oh yes, Ray darling, can you come here please?"
Ray stood up from his desk and walked over to Sidney. "Thank god you got me out of here, I thought I would barf!" Ray whispered in Sidney's ear. Sidney smiled, and turned back to the teacher.
"Um, thanks. Have a nice day, call you tomorrow," Sidney lied, desperate to leave the room. As she opened the door and left, she rolled her eyes in disgust. "How do you survive that class?"
"I sleep," Ray answered. "So, what do you need?"
"I need help on how to survive a fourth film, or what the rules are. You were a great friend to Randy, you should know this," Sidney told him. Sidney was more then desperate, she was bagging!
"Well, Sid, this is quite odd; I mean, I never knew there were rules for a fourth film. Sure, there was FRIDAY THE 13TH Part Four, and a NIGHTMARE ON ELM STREET Part Four, but still, the rules have never been stated. At the moment, my mind's drawing a blank. From what I know, the killer is calling the shots, bending things at his or her will. Why? What's going on?" Ray said.
"I'll tell you later, anyway, do you know what the killer's motive would be for a fourth film?" Sidney asked.
Ray laughed out loud. "Sid, please! Now that's a joke! No one knows the motive of the killer until the end. He or she, usually the psycho boyfriend or the psycho female friend, give a few hints of a motive and then...POOF...no more hints or anything of the sort. But if the killer were more then desperate to finally make the final act, then, I would say, there would be more hints, just for the hero or heroin to know who the killer is. So, final word is, the killer makes the rules, just try to survive, Sidney." Ray starred at Sid.
Sidney was thinking about the hints Ray had given her. "The killer makes the rules then, is that what you're saying? So I'm powerless against him?" Sidney asked.
"Well, basically yes. You could use guns, knives, and some other weapons to defend yourself, but seriously, from the third movie, the killer turns almost superhuman. I mean, look at Michael Myers. In the original and in Number Four (HALLOWEEN 4: THE RETURN OF MICHAEL MYERS) he takes six shots all over his body, but still survives (then Enter: HALLOWEEN II and HALLOWEEN 5), incredible really, but that's just a movie. Anyway, yeah, knives and guns, that's what I would use."
"Thanks, Ray, thanks for your help," Sidney said, and turned away, and walked towards the doors.
"Hey, Sid," she heard Ray say.
"Yes?"
"Be careful, alright?"
"Promise." Sidney walked out of the Century College doors, ready to consult an old friend.