Scream 3 [✓]

Prologue

"I think you got the wrong number, buddy," he told the person, starting to have difficulty concentrating on the rows upon rows of cars in front of him.

There was the distinct sound of shuffling fabric in the background, followed by static. "Do I?"

Cotton frowned. "Yeah. Look bro, my battery is running out. Really wish I could chat but I can't, later–"

"Tell me Cotton. How did it feel to have everybody believe you to be a cold hearted murderer?"

Not sooner that the words were spoken did the color drain from his face. Suddenly taken aback, Cotton forced out his next words through his open mouth. "What did you just say, asshole?"

"Nothing. Since you're such a talented actor, let's see you act your way out of this one," the voice threatened in a completely different tone.

His breath lodged in his throat as the hand holding the phone involuntarily began shaking, his heart hammering in his chest. "What do you mean?"

"I mean that I'm standing right outside at the Plaza Theater watching your dear Christine and guess what?" They laughed coldly.
"I got a knife in my hand."

Cotton turned pale, instantly feeling sick with worry as he switched the phone to his non-dominant hand, his fear alternating with anger. "Listen, you sick fuck. Is this your idea of a joke?"

"I call it a game," the voice replied smoothly, completely unaffected by Cotton's sharp reply.

The sound of heavy breathing made him even more unnerved. "What kind of game?"

"You're familiar with the STAB movies. Here's how we play. I ask you a question. You get it right, your girlfriend lives. You answer wrong, she dies."

Fear nearly paralyzed him. "I swear to God if you lay a finger on her I'll fucking kill you!"

"Very poor choice of words, Cotton. She's counting on you. Name your girlfriend's character in STAB 2."

Cotton groaned, banging his head against the steering wheel as his brain went into overload. If only he'd have paid attention to Christine he might have known this.

"C'mon, don't you know?" The voice urged him on.

"It's Cici! Cici's the name of the character she plays in the movie!"

"Correct. Now for round two."

Surpressing a shiver, Cotton's lip twitched. "What? I did everything you said to do, you punk!"

"That's right. But we're taking the game to a whole new level. Meet me beneath the Hollywood sign in ten minutes if you want to see her alive. I'll be waiting."

*Click*

The line went dead.

Cotton flipped open his phone again as panic surged through him and dialed for Christine, only to get the same tormenting voice growling at him from the other end. "You're not playing by the rules, Cotton. Do you want her to die?!"

His hand grew cold and clammy over the steering wheel. "I swear to God if you lay one hand on her–"

"No! You listen to ME. If you're not where I want you in fifteen minutes, I'll hollow her out. Do you understand?"

Cotton winced from the sudden anger in the voice over the phone and his fear spiked when he heard Christine's screaming in the background.

Without offering another word, the killer hung up again. Cotton stared ahead of him and put the SUV into gear, peeling out the nearest opening as he narrowly avoided collision, the car screeching down off the ramp.