Note: Since the vast majority of you have seen the movie, there should be a particular view of Detective Bailey. For me, in the original concept he is not well portrayed, not a person to root for, rude, obnoxious. Maybe it's his occupation, though that does not justify it for me. Therefore, his personality is a little recrafted as you've probably deduced by this point in the story.
Note #2: In front, the pacing/thrust of events will increase from this chapter.
Chapter 6. Face off at the University. Part 1
After the ice had broken. Naturally, the collective emotional reading of the room is unrecognizable to the one that was prevalent just 5 minutes ago; neither couch occupants felt any desire to ask for more details. To the trio who attended the O.K.B. party, this unintentionally, despicably stacked on top of the killing of Larry; in a sense, one could view them as soulmates of destructive nature. Chad felt the most disappointed in his efforts, unreasonably concluding that his interference with Frankie & Tara directly pushed Sam to a unhealthily vulnerable position. Even though it is mostly illogical, the reason is quite rational. Touch in the psychological sense is quintessential to Human life, its sole continual existence influences the well being of the soul/self. Yet, a major issue arises when said touch shatters the illusion of constant warmth & brings the fragility of life back to center stage. Due to the conditioning in the early years, most young people cannot cope with the reemergence of that aspect, so an explanation of any sorts rushes in for a calming of the self. With Tara – her analysis is wonderfully chaotic, small probability of achieving a strong response. That leaves Quinn – the 19 year old, brown eyes, light brown haired, rectangle body type representing female student at Blackmore who has a 'certain' status amongst this friend group. In short, 'sexual overdrive' defines her. This reality helps her quell the overwhelming amplitude of emotions, since she is used to experiencing comatose emotional sphere after a deeply involving sexual act. Add the fact that of not being around the Carpenter sisters prior to this year, it answers the question to the 1st responder.
"Do you believe one of us is behind it?"
"Quinn!" – Mindy shouts.
"That was uncalled for!" – Annika adds.
"Why would you ask something like that?!"
"Well, we need to get to the reason for us being here, Chad." – Quinn replies in a low, relaxed tone.
The male remains puzzled about the turns of events.
"I can see the reason."
He looks at his preferred future girlfriend; her face seems… comfortable with the fact that her sister has been snatched off the street.
"No." – Chloe sternly expresses.
The blonde focuses on Quinn.
"That's not the reason."
"Then what is?"
The public servant notes that there is no tangible disgruntled feeling behind the inquiry; meaning, the brown haired female is open to receiving information.
"Me & the commissioner bet that the best scenario would have you at the department until we're sure that Sam Carpenter is not the end of the perpetrators plans."
Even though this resonated with one of the younger females, she still leaned forward with the intent of asking another question. Though, that plan evaporates when there is a knock on the door. Trusting Jeff, Chloe glances at it.
Only about half a minute passes before a gesture is made.
"Sorry for the interruption. There is special person that wants to joint the conversation."
"Special how?" – the blonde asks, a little displeased, unsatisfied with the transition.
"A special agent…"
Everyone is at least somewhat taken by the passionate, cheerful, triumphing tone. Due to their seating arrangement, Jeff is the 1st to see the mysterious person's face.
"Good morning. FBI Special Agent Kirby Reed."
Immediately, the younger part of the collective unconsciously gawk at the person who just walked into the room. What reactions infamousness can bring out in people! Not a single person who lives frequently in Woodsboro can escape the fame or legend of Ghostface. The town is small, but the character is outrageously huge. To some in the States, both the place & the killer are synonymous with peril. That's why it is shocking, especially for the 20 year old, short, dark haired female, to see someone who was presumed dead in that town. She knows the lore of it and now is facing an integral part of its later years.
"No way. There's absolutely no way your her."
An unintentional gasp of air happens at the end.
"Yes way."
The newly arrived blonde female returns to the triumphing tone, adding a layer of compassion and respect.
"Let's block out the noise." – Erik says before showing a gesture to Kirby.
Soon, the door is closed.
Out in the city. An engine is performing at its optimal level (rpms not on the higher end), the suspension is dealing well enough with the non-equal asphalt. Both factors help the travelers process their thoughts effectively. Logically, everyone approaches the morning topics later in it differently; some choose to fixate on a certain one if its contents are too crucial, perceived by said people, to the extent that the idea is represented to the analytical firm in a reoccurring manner.
"So we're actually going to see Cody after yesterday's travesty?"
A male shows an ambiguous, unclear, yet encouraging grin.
"My gut says that is the best course of action."
A similar look back.
"We cannot pretend that what happened yesterday was normalcy."
Even with foresight, the sting to the still beating heart is hard, disbalancing.
"He has the lowdown."
"True. He almost certainly has the list of every special guest at the O.K.B. party." – a person adds from the backseat.
"How certain are you that the person was one of them?"
"Simple. The high requirements for this scheme. It looks too preplanned for it to be a drunk teenager."
"Get that. This killer probably did not drink at all."
"Or drank just enough to eviscerate any suspicion from the mass."
The two listeners are moderately intrigued by the use of the word 'eviscerate'; in most cases, people would have stopped at 'dispense'. Honestly, there was no need to add a vicious layer on the already negative outlook.
Out of nowhere, a mobile phone starts ringing. Understandably, all's attention shifts towards the incoming call.
"Yeah."
The driver chooses to multitask: a third focusing on the conversation to the side, two thirds of the mind concentrating on the drive. Obviously, this is a precarious choice, given the tragic reality of what a car crash does to the Human body. On the positive side, the more experience one collects, the easier such a task is; not to mention what wonderous help is a harmonious emotional sphere.
"We need to make a detour."
"Another unpredicted development?"
"Somehow they've all meshed up together."
"This Halloween is getting out of hand."
"Can't argue with that, Ray."
A swift sip of mineral water.
"Address." – the driver states calmly.
[…]
"Honestly, I'm not of the mindset that you should take people's words at face value. Especially, when their statements begin to appear contradictory."
A fast, precise overview of the surrounding area.
"She helped me enormously, lifted me back up to a decent person. That's undebatable. Yet, recent events do pose intriguing, uncomfortable questions that are aimed at her overall view on them; whether positive or negative."
Within the Police Department. It would be reasonable to say that the detectives task of integrating the late teen/young adults into the investigation, encouraging their involvement in their current case was commendable. Of course, such a 'collective' outlook on a crime is a rarity; out of the 2 groups one is indisputably more experienced, capable of than the other. All fine, but what occurs when the situation oozes unorthodoxy, extreme fragility in the sense of time? Then one can reasonably argue that bringing in civilians who've come into contact with the victim is positive leaning. To the incredibly self-aware, this type of decision resonates, since they understand the nature of most them in life – enhancing the positives and limiting the negatives.
"…How are we on that front?" – Tara asks carefully, in a restrained manner.
"Due to our ever shrinking time interval, me & my colleagues ruled out any suspects that were living out of the city's limits."
"That still leaves us with a hell of a lot of people." – the sexually experimenting female points out.
A somewhat mischievous smile appears on the most recent arriver's face.
"Not necessarily. That is just one of the constraints on our suspect list."
"You've got more?"
"Correct, Detective Bailey."
The FBI agent takes out a basil green, standard (A5) format notebook out of a woman's sized handbag; a soft finger brisk brush on the edges of several pages is enacted.
"As far as I'd managed to narrow it down before being too overfocused, our abductor is probably a person who was at the O.K.B. party. Am I right about the event's name?"
"Yes. That's how it was called." – Chad replies respectfully, alluding to a rise in trust of the agent.
"You believe the person, who kidnapped my sister, followed her from there?"
"Exactly. My gut tells me that there had to be an incident where Mis Carpenter placed herself in the spotlight."
"Assuming she wasn't infamous up until such a thing." – Erik voices, dread seeping out.
"What are you hinting at?" – Annika asks with an ambiguous grin.
The male carefully locks eyes with his female partner, not obviously inquiring about the idea of presenting the reason to all of them. Luckily for him, the blonde shows a completely focused, unfazed face which he treats as a decisive viewpoint.
"As soon as I knew that the abductee is Sam Carpenter, I immediately asked my younger colleagues to look into internet forums/groups about the tragedy of Woodsboro."
The light brown haired female is 1st to process the implications that such knowledge brings.
"You mean you knew what had happened to her & her friends a year before?"
"Don't be so surprised, Quinn. It's been a year since that incident. Far more than enough time for the information to travel across the entire country…"
He puts his palms on the side of his waist.
"…Especially when the 2 serial killers craved media attention which they uncontrollably got."
"It appears to me that it is not a one-off." – Fortune finally interjects.
"True. The Bureau has noticed a distinct rise in the appeal of psychopathy, the insane, unordinary for about at least a decade. The pandemic only enhanced such an appeal."
"That means our chances of finding him or her is difficult."
"Fairly so, Tara." – Kirby says compassionately, unhappily.
"It's all good that we can recognize the cultural shift, applauding towards the explicit, unmoral, destructive kind. As far as I can tell, this might just be a perfect cover up for a completely unfathomed agenda."
"Or it has everything to do with the previous Ghostface killings."
Unexpectedly, it is Chad who chooses to counter his twin's position on the matter at hand.
"Great understanding. Let's get back to your limiting factors, Special Agent Reed."
The female detective is internally satisfied with the current trajectory of this uncommon crime solving group; healthy discussions, an immersive frame of mind – both hint towards saving Sam Carpenter.
"No problem."
All participant receive a short boost of joy when hearing a cheerful retort from their recent arriver. Obviously, everybody this was not the time to be picky, unreasonable about the 'correct' emotional content.
Inching closer to 10 o'clock. The sane, healthy people automatically desire a pleasant return from dreamland; the advancements in the 'Developed World' engraved this thinking in their psyche through several generations. Of course, the chances of the awakening being lethargic, exhausting are unavoidable. Yet, lethargic does not equate to grim – not even slightly.
"Hmm."
A person's conscious understanding returns; bizarrely, it is followed by a troubling lack of warmth around the body.
"What is going on? Why do I feel so… cold?"
The ending of the question is far less joyous, encouraging than the start. It takes less than 10 seconds for the mind to notice one especially disgusting detail of the current situation.
"Hmph."
That being – some type of object is stuck into the mouth; it stretches the mouth's width to a point where it is impossible to speak, scream effectively.
"Ha!.. Ha!.. Ha!.."
Another demoralizing knock out – hands & legs immobilized; probably chained to the table/flat object where the body laid.
"Oh no!.. Oh no!.. Oh God!.."
[In a calmer ambience]
Soon, wheels stop rolling, masterfully separate from the curb; further, the engine is turned off. The passenger peculiarly swivels the head to gaze at the sky from the side window.
"I'd assume you won't be long. We have to be proactive if we're to identify Larry's killer."
"No worries, Vik. I'll be clear & direct with her."
"That'll be best."
"Should I scope the premise?"
A couple of head shakes.
"Don't see no harm."
In a seemingly synchronized manner, both passengers exit the vehicle. Since one exited on the side of the road, avoidance of a negative scenario is commendable.
[Nearby]
"The diner should be on the right."
Somewhat surprisingly, the pacing remains constant. Main reason – the person's face extrudes anxiousness, anticipation.
Only a minute past 10. I'd wish the young male had entered to a public eating space that was somehow inconspicuous, then the interior could be elaborately detailed. This was not the case, given that when one is aimed at running a successful business, being palatable, not weird is enormously beneficial. Not to mention – weirdness has gained a negative connotation in the past decade around several people groups. Back to the person, who agreed to a meeting, he casually walks over to the table where he sees both a recognizable & a unrecognizable face.
"Good morning." – he calmly states while sliding onto a plush diner type sofa.
Legs slide under the table, body stops at a point where it is in direct opposition to another person. Said person methodically processes the recent arriver's facial expression, conjures up a list of most likely reasons for it. The other person rests mutely, consciously chooses for the outside to transition into a more favorable position; hints of an upcoming conversation filled with tension are quite dominant.
"Good to see you safe, Adam."
"Well, I'd probably stay home if I was ill, Monica."
"You should order something."
"Why? I've got some important issues to solve."
"Coffee might be a wise option." – the last person mentions, thereby joining the conversation.
The male peculiarly shifts his vision to the side.
"It might, but I already had one this morning."
"You could order a small cappuccino."
"That does sound wise."
Both humans maintain a low profile while exchanging looks with each other. By no means, they appear to be disdainful towards one another; more so – they are inclined to familiarize in different degrees.
For the upcoming several minutes, the seated trio, yet unspoken, conclude to wait for Adam's small cup of coffee. There is a negligible noise around them, which is to be expected for any diner. Looking from the male's position, he clearly arrived at a table where people uphold a high physiological standard: no one was obese, expressively layered with fat, all expressed well proportions. Where Monica's jet black hair befriended Adam's, the other females was blonde, less thick than either's. Monica had wonderful, emotion blasting cobalt blue eyes, a not overwhelming nose, masterfully elegant lips; all in all, her face flowed with deep understanding, care and ability to stabilize a person's emotional sphere. The female sitting next to her upheld a tidy hairstyle – long hair being glued into a ponytail down her back. Being barely shorter, still fit, her face tilted towards innocence, softness; in a way, one could attribute abstractness, since the way she angled her arctic blue eyes, less vibrant lips, still wonderfully chiseled cheek bones at Adam did not really steer blatantly to positivity or negativity.
"Thank you." – he warmly says after receiving his coffee.
[…]
Confidence or self-assurance spreads out, unsurprisingly, to a spectrum; meaning, one should not stamp a clear gap between a 'confident' & an unconfident person. Though, this character trait was not present in the person walking up to the diner. Moreover, it plummeted again after a fairly lucky vigilant scan.
"Oh wait!"
A step back is taken which gives ¾ of cover from the spot, where the assumed danger lays.
"That finely maintained blue sedan. I know I've seen it recently."
"So far so good." – someone says after discretely shifting one's eyes to both sides.
[…]
A delicate, overly thoughtful blowing of cold air above the light brown liquid's top. The male observes his contemporary sitters; goal being fairly loose – any significant hint towards an unfathomed situation.
"Alright…"
The small, porcelain white cup lands on the table.
"…Let's finish our pleasantries."
A mysterious viewpoint shift.
"What's your name?"
The blonde is completely unaffected by the male's dubious maneuver and softly, calculatedly answers:
"I'm Angeline."
"Great to meet you, Angeline."
A lean forward.
"I'm eager to hear what kind of crucial thing pushed you towards persuading my sister to bring me here?"
A warm split second eyelid closing & opening.
"What gives you the impression that it is me that wanted you here the most?"
"Two things. One – I've heard about your close relationship with Monica. It's already measured in years, so your ability to accentuate her care could lead to this scenario. Two – she is up to date on my personality. Therefore, she would not drag me out to a diner on a Sunday morning if it was not of extreme importance." – Adam calmly explains.
A short pause comes forth in the World; the trio's minds circulate separately on the idea of how to continue the ongoing conversation. Most would still attribute a respectful atmosphere to this situation.
"I want your input, perspective on the horrific incident of yesterday."
One's view on how much such a grim turn can impresses on a person's face is dually dependent – it has a significant amount resting on both the perceiver and the perceived. More expectedly than not, the jet black haired male only amplifies his serious look. It would be extremely demanding to find another impactful transition.
"What gives you the view that I have my attention on it?"
Combatively, she leans forward too.
"Just as you've analyzed my & Monica's bond, I noted some of your traits from our conversations in my mind. One… is not leaving a tragic event up to the… incompetent."
Adam wastes little time in connecting the soft, enthusiastic tone of the first & lost words with an underlying thrust or push for his personal view on Larry's swift end.
"Fine, Angeline. But you're going to have to put your mobile phone on the table. Right now."
"You can't be honestly assuming I'd…"
"No worries, Monica." – the blonde female disrupts her friend's sentence.
A look to convey genuineness, appreciated concern is received.
[…]
"Hmph!.. Hmph!"
The honestly stunned, maybe petrified person is engulfed in a heightened briefing cycle; mind blazingly moving across its ungraspable area. The intent – refocus, reshape the being back to a state where movement, mostly progress, can occur.
"Can't really validate her statement with that guy and that car standing so close to the diner."
Out of nowhere, a devastating idea comes to mind.
"Oh hell!"
A lightning quick angle to the sidewalk which went parallel to the mentioned diner.
"They might be the ones behind that yesterday's incident."
An almost identical return of eyesight to the prior point.
"Calm down. Calm down."
The voice drops at least three times in thickness, loudness. A possible break through, poise for resurgence has become incredibly viable.
[…]
"Okay." – the male says while putting the blonde's phone on the table, in front of her.
They exchange facial expressions.
"Why are you concerned about his death?"
"Simple. I believe it to be a continual act."
"I can see that. If I recall correctly, you are a nurse."
"On the money."
Both thrusters reposition themselves as restrained ones; the confirming fact being their more orthodox sitting. Also, the dialogue is running on far higher revolutions than before which is a little ponderous. Is it mainly the remembering of straightforwardness for a 'short' conversation by Adam or is it Angeline's raw desire to achieve a more balanced, informed view on the matter at hand?
"To my understanding, this… atrocity is a part of a larger scale idea."
"You agree with my view of a stretched out plan?"
"Yes. The criminal behind this is aiming for a grander scene which I'm not clear on. Since you crave my input, I'll elaborate on it."
He moves his head forward to a point where the nose's end is straight down to the middle of the table.
"Whoever he or she is, the assumed methodical nature tells me there was a moment where he or she met Larry. Most likely – on the University's campus. In that moment, something far reaching occurred within the mind that led to a malicious scheme being put in motion."
The female's were eager, attentive to process the incoming monologue, given its sizeable lowering of voice from any previous sentence.
"Given the magnificent opportunity of the long Halloween weekend, the carnage will continue; thus, the scheme will be accomplished. Successfully or not."
"So it would be wise to avoid the University for the next two days?"
"Most definitely."
Immediately, Adam returns to the common sitting position before casually, confidently standing up.
"That's all I've got to say on the matter. I've got some upcoming plans that I can't put off."
The male looks around, aiming to intake anyone's suspicious look as a hint towards multiple attackers/criminals.
"Monica."
Then he looks at the blonde.
"Angeline. Take care of yourselves and choose your next moves wisely. There is a decent enough list of acts to get burned by."
A spry grin appears.
"Have a good day."
"You two, Adam." – the females bizarrely retort at the same time.
The trio gradually disintegrates into the monumental, always flowing substance of time.
[Outside the diner]
Fortunately for the male trio and other walkers of New York, the sky remains mostly clear, only half a dozen fluffy white clouds could be observed from the current area.
"Hooray." – Raymond says spontaneously, cheerfully.
"I share it."
The male duo reenter the automobile in seconds.
"More complicated than perceived?"
"Yeah. Unexpected eagerness."
They responsibly clip in their seatbelt buckles.
"We're still good on time?"
"Yes. Cody told me that he'll be leaving at 12."
"Alright. We've got about 90 minutes till then."
[Back inside]
"…Nevertheless, I worry about you, Angela."
"I'm no stranger to blood, Monica."
The arctic eyed woman carefully, understandingly puts a palm on Adam's sister's upper thigh.
"I know, but this is not a stationary, static instance."
The reply – an admirable, caring grin.
"I value your care. I really do, Monica."
A light brush along the thigh.
"But some things I just cannot put off."
"A fight might be unavoidable." – the black haired female voices, trepidation clearly evaporating, confidence making a reappearance.
Unexpectedly, the other female shows a wide smile, pristinely cared for teeth becoming visible.
"Well than its good that I've got muscular arms."
A good amount past 11:00. To the encroaching, ever nearing small group. the sight on Blackmore's ground seems rational, predictable. Given the fact that most young people attend parties around the holidays and go bonkers at them, the traction or flood of students around the buildings right now resides on the minimum.
"Park it closest to the exit."
The blue sedan slowly turns in to a parking lot; the driver takes in the surroundings before admirably parking the vehicle backwards into a ¾ marked rectangle.
"Hmmm. That is interesting."
TO BE CONTINUED…