A/N: Hello, I hope everyone had a good Christmas, as well as New Year's, and with it comes a brand-new chapter. This time, I'll focus on Chamberlain.

A heads-up warning: the beginning of this chapter might be scary. *evil smile* I want to thank CriticalSix4677 from the KI forums for helping me suggest a few ideas. Anyway, enjoy it.

Update: Due to a large word count contributing to edits, a portion of this chapter will be taken and transferred to a new one. Do not worry: things remain the same.

Disclaimer: I need to put a sign that says that I do not own Killer Instinct or Carrie.

The moon shone over Memorial Park as fog billowed. Owls hooted, and crickets chirped in the forest. Three teens strolled along a trail, using their flashlights to guide them through the dark. Each carried a backpack on their shoulders. Skimming through the slabs, they found their intended target. They studied the marker, with "CARRIE WHITE BURNS IN HELL" in bright red words.

A boy with short, curly brown hair and a blue windbreaker scratched his head. "Does it need more, Phil?"

Another boy drank from a beer can and belched. A baseball cap matched the red and gray jacket he wore. He placed the can on the stone and extracted a mallet from his knapsack. "Trust me, Sam. Everyone will talk about it! Is the camera with you, Tim?"

"Yeah, yeah." The third had blonde hair and wore a black leather jacket with earrings. He removed his backpack and picked up his camera, pressing the 'On' button. As he glanced around, he shivered. "Is it me, or are graveyards at night creepy?"

Sam scoffed. "You should stop watching those horror movies, dude."

"I can't help it! Plus, another Ring movie is coming out soon."

"No one cares, and if you're leaving-"

"Save your debates for later, guys," Phil said. "Mr. Hargensen paid us for this job. We'll upload it to YouTube after recording."

Tim thumbed the record button while Sam and Phil positioned themselves near the slab. They wore ski masks to hide their faces. "Three. Two. One." He pressed 'Record.'

"Hi, everyone! Fucktastic Phil here!"

"And I'm Virginspoiler!" Sam added.

"Welcome to another episode of 'Wrecked'! Boy, tonight is a treat! We're standing before the grave of the Black Prom murderous bitch, Carrie White. This episode is for Mr. Hargensen. Thank you for the pledge, my man! Remember to subscribe to our channel as we demolish this frightening sight."

Phil clutched the hammer and hoisted it. Before he slammed it down, a sudden haze rolled through the graveyard. "What the hell? Didn't the news mention fair skies?"

"They could've made a mistake." Tim scanned the area until he paused. "Uh, guys… what is that?"

"What?"

"That!"

The boys followed Tim's line of sight and froze.

A woman lingered beside a fresh grave, facing them. Long black hair concealed her face. A tattered rose-pink kimono with flower prints clung to her petite frame. She held a long wooden pole with a blade and a shredded red cloth tied around it.

"What the hell…?" Sam uttered. "Guys, are you seeing this?"

"Yep." Phil waved at her. "Hey, Sweet Cheeks, how would you like to give me a blowjob?"

Tim and Sam laughed.

"You wanna sucky sucky? Me give you five dollars, me love you long time!" Phil called in an offensive mock imitation of a Japanese accent, pointing at his groin. He stuck his tongue in his cheek, followed by slurping noises. While Phil continued with catcalls and lewd remarks, his buddies doubled over, holding their stomachs. He humped the air while grabbing his crotch. After that, he smacked a booty he imagined.

Sam wiped his eyes. "Man, you're hilarious!" The woman never reacted nor moved except to stare. "What is that bitch's problem? Hey, Tim, ask her why she's here."

"Are you nuts? Look at her – she's emitting Ring/Grudge vibes."

"Sounds like your kind of girl!" Sam smirked while nudging him. "Stop being a pussy and ask!"

"Ugh, fine." After passing the camcorder to Phil, Tim approached the woman. "Uh… miss, excuse me?"

The woman cracked her neck while raising her head, stunning Tim. The sclera was dark, but her irises were white. Her pale image flickered with green light as though warped by a videotape.

"Whoa, what the fuck?" Phil stepped back. "What the fuck was that?"

The woman lurched towards the boys until she blurred and vanished. They exchanged looks, expecting an answer, but nothing made sense.

"Fuck this, guys. I'm out of here!" Tim spun to leave but screamed. His friends shifted towards Tim and shrieked. The woman stood before them.

"What do you want?" Sam asked. The woman pointed at the headstone, speaking Japanese with snarls and hisses. "I think she wants us to stay away from the marker."

"Yeah?" Phil said. "Well, we're wrecking that thing."

The woman raised her weapon as if she understood his words, stopping him.

"Uh, guys, we should leave! We don't want to piss her off," Tim advised. "Let's. Go."

"If you're too pussy to do the job, leave. I'm not afraid of this shit. This bitch is only wearing make-"

The woman slashed Phil across the chest before he could finish his sentence.

"Phil!" Tim cried.

Phil staggered before standing still. From neck to navel was a horrible bloody gash. He assessed the injury before falling to the ground.

Tim, alongside Sam, screamed upon seeing their friend lying dead. Before they reacted, the woman unhinged her jaw, revealing rows of razor-sharp teeth. As she roared, her form flickered and crawled toward the boys. The woman's limbs snapped and twisted with each movement.

"Jesus fucking Christ!" Tim yelled.

The boys hurried through Memorial Park. As they turned a corner, the woman emerged, phasing into Tim's body. A ghastly green tinge surrounded Tim as he groaned and dropped to his knees.

"Tim, what's wrong with you?" Sam asked.

Tim coughed up blood, clutching his chest as if having a heart attack.

Sam grabbed his friend. "Come on, man, stay with me! I'll get you to a doctor-"

Tim screamed as a supernatural force lifted him, escaping Sam's hands. Blood gushed from his mouth like a stream. His limbs twisted and snapped, laced with tears and pops. With one final crack, Tim fell limp.

Sam trembled, and his pants became warm and moist. The body floated like meat hanging from a metal hook. Once it fell at Sam's feet, he fled. Sam glanced over his shoulder as the woman ripped through the corpse. Blood smeared her long claws. Her teeth remained sharp and animal-like. Her hair flowed in all directions, and her eyes gleamed.

"JESUS CHRIST! JESUS CHRIST!"

Sam mumbled prayers and whimpered, never caring that he pissed himself. Frightened tears smeared his face while hiding behind a tree. Panting, he examined his surroundings as he held onto something. Sam gasped at the camera, still recording. After a quick fumble, he pointed the device at him.

"If-if anyone finds this, please help me! My name is S-S-Sam Collins. A monster attacked my friends and me at Memorial Park! Send help!"

Sam's heart stopped after hearing a soft snap to his left. He swung in that direction, only to find nothing. After turning, he faced the woman who snarled at him. His scream rang through the night as birds flew from the source.

Clouds shrouded the sky, pouring tears on Chamberlain. Though the Black Prom massacre faded into history, its ripple effect lingered. Like a ritual, Sue arrived at Memorial Park carrying a white rose. Passing by her friends' graves, she approached Carrie's splotched stone. She whispered silent prayers, wishing Carrie peace in the afterlife.

While lowering the flower, a decaying hand emerged, grabbing her wrist. Sue screamed for help, unable to break free from its grip.

Awoken with a start, Sue checked her hand, panting. Her body trembled from the image of the dead hand and its cold, clammy grip.

"Hey, are you okay?" a voice asked. A woman sat at the edge of Sue's bed, her concerned green eyes glistening. Her ruffled ginger hair almost fell to her shoulders.

Sue surveyed her room, processing what had happened. A dream, and yet, Jesus Christ, I'm shaking!

"Is everything alright?" the woman asked.

Before Sue replied, her stomach tightened. Bile rose in her throat, forcing her to cover her mouth. On wobbly legs, she hurried to the bathroom. Shutting the door, she lifted the toilet seat lid. Sue puked inside the bowl, pausing between breaths. After flushing the commode, a loud knock on the door reached her.

"Sue?" the woman called.

"I'm fine, Rita." The girl groaned, her head resting on the seat. "I guess the baby didn't enjoy dinner last night."

"Oh, dear. I'm cooking breakfast, so I'll call you when it's ready."

"Alright." Sue sat on the floor, rubbing her belly. While recovering, she reflected on her dream. Despite being expected to have vivid dreams, the latest one scared her. Minutes later, Sue cleared the latrine when Rita's voice thundered through the house.

"Sue, something happened at Memorial Park!"

The girl rushed into Rita's living room, finding the woman watching TV. On the screen, police cars and emergency vehicles surrounded the entrance, now marked with yellow tape. Medical personnel wheeled two black bags on stretchers.

"It was a quiet morning when police discovered the bodies of Phillip Carter and Tim Hart at Memorial Park," the reporter stated. "Police have sealed off the scene and haven't released an official statement about foul play."

"It's too early to determine what transpired here," a police officer said. "However, we're doing everything we can to solve this mystery. We have a potential suspect at the hospital, treated for shock. We have informed his family and are seeking information. Until we complete the case, Memorial Park will remain closed. Contact us with information regarding this event as soon as possible."

"Twenty-year-old Tyler Avery found the scene with Buddy, his dog," the reporter added.

The camera shifted to a man holding a Golden Retriever on a leash. "I was taking Buddy for a walk when he started barking. I assumed a squirrel wanted his attention until I found the dead bodies. The scary part was that they were a few meters from Carrie White's mound. It was as if her spirit hadn't finished destroying this town."

Heat flushed around Sue's body as a tiny vein pulsed in her forehead.

"The third guy was terrified. He was in the undergrowth, sobbing," the man continued.

"Did he explain what happened?" the reporter asked.

"His gibbering made no sense. He said, 'Don't ruin Carrie's burial site, or she'll kill you.'"

"I've heard enough!" Sue stomped into the kitchen.

Rita shut off the TV. While getting up, she found Sue sitting at the table. "Are you alright?"

"No, I am not. Even after Prom, everyone still blames Carrie."

"I know, hon."

"Do you miss her?"

Rita rested her hands on the girl's shoulders. "Every day. How about we walk around town to clear our heads?"

"Sounds good to me. I could use some fresh air."

Rita and Sue strolled through the almost deserted town. Along the way, they discovered several moving vans parked in most houses. Dozens of "For Sale" signs dotted the yards.

"Jeez, so many people are leaving," Sue remarked.

"Yeah," Rita said. "You can't blame them, though. The Black Prom incident is still fresh in everybody's minds. There is so much anger and pain. How does one cope with tragedy? If this continues, this will become a ghost town."

A voice reached the women as they rounded a corner. Sue's eyes softened as a young boy approached them. His tanned complexion paired with his short jet-black hair. He had his hands in his pockets and walked with a lowered head.

"Hi, Sue, Ms. Desjardin," the boy said.

"George!" Sue smiled. "How are you?"

"Doing alright. I just returned from visiting Erika at the hospital. She's still distressed from the Black Prom massacre, but okay."

"Can you send her our regards when you meet her again?"

"I'll keep that in mind. Erika told me she'd move once released. My parents and I are moving too. What about you and Ms. D?"

"We're considering it," Rita said. "Where are you moving to?"

"They say Florida's a pleasant start despite hurricane season," George joked with slight joy. "I saw the news about Memorial Park. Everyone keeps saying that Carrie's spirit has arisen to 'finish the job.'"

Sue pinched her nose. "Ugh! I wish these bastards would leave Carrie alone!"

"Yeah. Did you hear about the Memorial Park update?"

"No, why?"

George pulled out his phone and clicked on YouTube. "The guys who got killed had a YouTube channel called 'Wrecked.' Their latest video streamed everything, and now it's number one."

Rita furrowed her brows. "Wrecked?"

"I know that series," Sue said. "Why would they record at Memorial Park?"

"You won't like it, but everything will be clear once you see it." After scrolling, George found a trending video and tapped play.

News stories mention the camera found at the site. With law enforcement permission, they could access the recorded video. A "viewer discretion" message appeared before airing.

The video began with the boys at Carrie's resting place, one wielding a mallet. Sue squinted while forming a fist.

Rita became still as swarms of dark red clouded her vision. "How does anyone enjoy this?"

"You got me," George said.

The two boys gave shout-outs to those who subscribed to their channel. However, one name, in particular, left them speechless.

"Mr. Hargensen?" Sue said. "I didn't know he followed this series."

Rita folded her arms. "I don't think he does. Last I checked, Mr. Hargensen was fired from his job. The law firm he once worked for received evidence of misconduct."

As the clip continued, the boy holding the mallet lifted it. The women grind their teeth as if they expected the stone's destruction. Fog poured out of the grove and engulfed Memorial Park, stopping the boy. The cameraperson scanned until it focused on a woman.

"Who is that?" Sue asked.

"Not sure, but she's scary," George said.

As Sue studied the woman, she could tell this wasn't Carrie. In appearance, she could be Asian, perhaps Japanese, but the pregnant mother couldn't shake off the dreaded vibe.

The woman stayed put, unfazed by the lead boy's sexual gestures and words. She moved only when the cameraperson approached, and a green light flickered from her frame. She lurched forward until she distorted and vanished. After some time, she appeared closer to the boys.

Rita, Sue, and George gazed as everything unfolded onscreen before them. What started as morbid curiosity turned into stomach-clenching terror. The woman pursued and attacked the boys. One by one, they fell victim to the woman's wrath.

Sue wanted to dismiss the whole thing as some horrible prank. Despite wanting to stop, she kept watching. Sue used to think the supernatural was ghost stories. The Black Prom massacre changed that perception; even now, she wasn't sure.

Once the footage ended, the trio remained still until they remembered to breathe.

"…My God, that was frightening." Rita patted her chest. "Please tell me it's fake."

"If it is, kudos to whoever did the visual effects," George said. "After Prom, nothing surprises me now. Still, the 'Wrecked' series has ended."

"As it should," Sue said. "Those bastards tried to sully her grave. I'm willing to bet they spray-painted the headstone."

"Well, justice is served if they did it." George shuddered. "That woman scared me."

"I agree. I feel sorry for the families of those boys, though," Rita said. "Also, I can see why people mistake the woman for Carrie's spirit."

"Yeah," Sue said. "Who was that woman? Why did she save Carrie's grave?"

"No idea." Rita clicked her tongue. "What are you thinking?"

Sue stared at the sidewalk as she debated her next course of action. "Maybe we should visit."

"No, Sue."

"But Rita-"

"I said no!"

"All I want are answers!"

"What makes you assume she won't attack you? Let the police deal with her."

"I need to do this, Rita!"

"Why?"

"For peace of mind. The world appears to be turning insane. The Black Prom massacre was supposed to be a one-off event, but it may have triggered something, like a prelude to something awful. This feeling will worsen if left unchecked."

The trio stood mute, chilled by this turn of events. George cleared his throat to break the silence.

"I should leave. Besides, my family might need my help moving things. You two take care, okay?"

"You too," Rita said. As they headed their separate ways, she waited until George was alone. "So, Sue, where shall we start?"

A/N: That's it for this chapter. Do you think Sue might be onto something after watching the video? Would she find the woman responsible for the murders lurking in the graveyard? It's time for my brain to rest, so I'll see you later.