Prelude
When dealing with a horror franchise as famous as Scream, you're just not going to please everyone. Of course, this is not unique to the Scream franchise; it is more so a fact of life, but I still feel the intuitional urge to mention it here. Back to the story that you are about to read, I've watched the last installment – the 6th movie – and the experience/interpretation cannot be anything other than mixed. Therefore, there might be more of the original material left than you'd assume from a fanfiction's position. One thing is a must – the tension aspect has to be a major priority. Only time will tell if I get it right. So without further ado… on with a reimagined 6th installment.
Scream VI Redone: A Devilish Cocktail
Chapter 1. We must be patient
Late evening. With a city the size and population of New York, there is always a buzz in the streets; I mean, it is referenced, labeled the 'City That Never Sleeps' on multiple occasions. Being outgoing – a quintessential character trait of young people, particularly those in their late teens and early 20's. More often then not the 'stay at home' types are frowned upon by the 'Developed World's' culture. The night is in control of the atmosphere already; the young people are walking in groups to several events. Well… there is one who is going in a direction that is invokes a sense of privateness than openness. Yet, the same person darts through a group, recognizes someone in it and utters:
"Oh… hey, Tara.
The addressed person immediately turns around.
"Jason?"
Takes a couple of steps forward.
"Are you and Greg gonna come to the O.K.B. party?" – she asks with an intrigued, thoughtful grin.
"If he finishes his Spanish project in time, yes. We will." – he replies nonchalantly.
A sudden question comes to mind.
"Is your sister coming?"
"No, Sam wouldn't be caught dead in a frat party."
An expression confidence followed up with a smile, showing the top immaculately white teeth. A somewhat sheepish face is made by the male.
"There's a 1st time for everything."
Tara begins walking back to her group when retorting:
"Not tonight, though."
"Can I convince her?" – he asks spontaneously.
"No, that's not my problem – it's yours."
Another switch in the approach is enacted.
"Get me a drink."
"Alright. I'll see you."
Tara turns to one side, while Jason turns to the other and they spear onward in opposite directions. In a suspicious way, the male's facial expression transitions to a surveillant, diligent one. Perhaps, the reason is the time of day. Although, you can argue that it is deliberate and pointing to an intriguing turn of events, where he'll be the catalyst. Since when there is only a reason for an action.
At least a dozen minutes later. Casual sound of unlocking a door is heard.
"Honey! I'm h-o-o-me!"
After the cliché is out of the way, the door is understandably shut.
"SSSH!"
A person jingles keys in an easy-going fashion; takes a few seconds & steps to inquire:
"Greg?"
"In here!"
"Where?"
"The kitchen, Jason."
Massive relief overflows the newest arriver's emotional sphere. Now in a preferred state of mood the senses can easily latch onto the sound of steam.
"We're going to have to talk about your disappearance right before… The Time!"
The end of the sentence – highly unorthodox, mysterious.
"Well,… there were some difficulties I needed to deal with."
"Safe to say they're done?"
"Pfff! Yeah."
Jason opens half of a high closet, the other part is unlatched instantly. Within the confines of said closet reside memorabilia of a movie franchise called 'Stab': posters, bags; also, a mannequin shaped, coal black head is found, which is level to Jason's chest. Carefully, respectfully, a black object is taken out of his backpack and place onto the mannequin. The fit is made exquisite. Jason boosts himself up by admiring the placed object.
Soon.
"WHOOOOO! Replay! Replay!"
The other person within the enclosed space presses play on the music he craves to hear once again.
"YEEEOW!"
Predictably, Jason enters the kitchen to find his known male, dancing sporadically, wearing a parakeet green, monotoned apron.
"You look well."
"I'm ecstatic that we're almost done with our preparations."
A smile shows itself. In the next minute, the newer arrival walks over to make some coffee, while the other grabs a wooden spoon and starts stirring once again.
"Runnin' with the Devil!"
The orange-yellow lined lamps gives the room light and evokes a certain type of atmosphere within the people occupying it.
"Smells delicious."
"I'd hope that."
Greg adjusts his field of view.
"I've read 3 recipes for it and decided on the best one."
"Honestly, man. You have such a passion for cooking."
"I know. A fantastic dish can bring out the life in me."
He giggles a bit, smugness follows suit. The 2 stay silent for the interval between Jason pouring in hot water, mixing, adding milk and coming back to the previous spot.
"That's what we'll need if we are going to succeed."
A devilish face appears.
"Good to know we're back on topic. So…"
His face now pertains to curiosity.
"…Why did you disappear before The Time?"
Jason cautiously goes over possible answers, settles on the best one.
"I needed to scout some more."
"Scouting the perimeters is a noteworthy act, bro, but… I remember that I checked our shrine. Your mask was gone." – Greg counters, wickedness, a high pitch meshing at the end.
"I had some… issues that I needed to resolve."
"Issues, yeah?"
Abruptly, the apron wearing male senses a rise in the desire to punish his acquaintance; that thought warms his mind. An expression of insanity may as well be the label. Jason's emotional sphere reeks of uneasiness, discomfort towards the future.
Just when a cataclysm is about to erupt, a song starts and Greg instantly dives back into a positive groove:
"Great song."
Another different grin, this time in the realm of considerate, understanding.
"Now tell me explicitly. Why did you take the mask, Jason?"
The tone is substantially calmer than anything previous.
"After we eat."
He sips his coffee.
"That will be more appropriate."
"Higher stakes at that point. Can't say I do not relish it."
In several seconds, one of them leaves the kitchen, while the other finishes making dinner.
20 minutes pass. The male duo are now diving into their meal, opposite of each other, with an obscure, nice, medium sized lamp standing at one side. Logically, thoughts were running through both minds on multiple topics; a lively, energetic person is a thinking one – no way around it. Now the depth, seriousness, quality of said process is up for debate, spreads out to a massive spectrum.
"Now. 3rd time, bro. Tell me where you've been & why did you take the majestic tool?"
Jason finishes his bite, visibly takes a deep breath.
"I'm sorry, Greg. Ok? I got cold feet, so I had to practice."
His acquaintance calmly finishes his chunk, maintains the same face.
"Who was it? Someone familiar?"
"Very. A female teacher from our university."
Excitement rockets within Greg; thus, the distrust towards Jason is either decreased or discarded.
"Blonde?"
"Yes."
"So you took care of Laura Crane, right?"
"Right. Don't panic, my friend. I blocked at least 2 lines that could trace it back to me or us."
A beverage leaves a cup.
"Let's hope that gives you the will to follow our plan through."
His palm rests on top of the obscure lamp to his side; consequently, this triggers an immense pink spark within the lamp's confines.
"Remember, we've got to get her in 3 days."
"I'm fully aware, Greg. His legacy is dependent on that."
"It's as much his as it will be ours."
The palm leaves the lamp; automatically, the immense sparks disappear.
"I'm just saying that we should be patient, absolutely certain when to eliminate her."
"Without a doubt. Our shrewdness has to be extreme."
A chuckle comes out.
"It is, after all, a glorious opportunity to finish his vision."
"Pleased to hear that. Wonderfully for us, Tara is attending the fraternity party on campus tonight."
"That is great news."
Jason looks at his phone, focuses in on the current time.
"The party begins in 15 minutes."
"Will she be there?"
"I see that happening."
"Elaborate."
"Fine. She's most likely busy right now, but we'll come back in the next hour home. Once she realizes that Tara is at a… Public, Dangerous… setting, she'll come rushing in to protect her."
"The elder sister protecting her younger sister due to the traumatic event of last year."
"Exactly, man."
"Ah,… how I love predictability. Their personalities will be their downfall."
"If we are fully engrossed in the task, then we'll win out."
"Agree."
The male duo stop talking and finish their respective meals. Going over their physical appearance, Greg is taller than Jason, shoulder broadness is similar, both exhibit decent physical strength. Face wise, Jason's appears more 'fleshed out', each part is more noticeable than Greg's. Umber brown, big eyes, wide eyebrows, dark mustache & beard, peanut brown skin medium length black hair hangs behind Jason's head. Greg's face is of cream white hue, similarly colored, sized eyes, no facial hear, wider mouth. Decently shorter, less thick dark brown hair rests on the back of his head. What is also true is there commitment – they act consciously, with authority within the living space, talking and taking different stuff; all is done with the intent of leaving in the mentioned time interval. Safe to say that the party might be more… intense then most late adolescent teens could imagine.