Scream 3 [✓]

Chapter 9

Gale shook her head, pulling you against her. "Don't you put this shit on her and for the love of God, calm down! There were five different versions of the script given out. And what, I die in STAB 3?"

You were flattered by the woman stepping to your defense the way she did, before she promptly marching over to where Jennifer was sitting to
snatch the script from the girl's hands. "AND I DIE NAKED? UGH! Who wrote this piece of crap?"

Jennifer leaned back again as she wiped at her eyes, seeming to have calmed down at least a litte bit. "I know right? It was kinda weak. The script was written by some new guy."

A teary-eyed Angelina Tyler rose up from the couch, approaching the four of you. "What are you talking about? Because of this shit I'll probably never act in a Hollywood film again."

These people weren't just clowns, in your book. They were the entire fucking circus.

Seriously, there were killers out there finishing them off in order and they were worried about not getting some stupid role in a movie again?

Tom casually snaked his arm around Angelina, squeezing her tightly. "Hey, good looking. If you play your cards right, I may be able to sit you down on my casting couch and try you out for a few films my production company is working on. How do you feel about a Deep Throat remake?"

Angeline squealed in disgust and elbowed him before racing out of the house, followed by a groaning Tom. "I'll be right back."

You let go of an on-edge breath as your eyebrows dropped. That Tom fellow was everything you could possibly hate in a person.

-

Tom walked out of the darkness, peering around. "Angelina! Where the hell are you? I was only playing! Hey look, I can really get you a part! Just come out, alright?"

But the only thing he was met with was an eerie silence. Sighing, Tom whipped out a joint and lit it, sauntering around the side of the house before a noise entered his ears.

A low, muffled squealing.

"Angelinaaaa?" Tom sang to the guest house, seeing the door hanging half open with darkness spilling out.

The entire small interior of the guest house was blackened by the night as Tom cockily meandered about, not noticing one of the black shadows peeling off the wall.

"Angelina?" Tom stopped in his tracks when he stepped in something wet and looked down.

Lying in a pool of blood at his feet was Angelina who had her throat slit, her eyes wide open, lifeless and empty.

Tom yelped and recoiled from the gruesome sight, staggering backwards right into the arms of the intruder behind him.

"You motherfucker!" He let the obscenity fall from his lips and was unable to say much else because without hesitation, the killer slashed open his arm.

Screaming in pain, Tom backed up into the kitchen, before he was harshly grabbed by the throat and being choked mid-air, slowly lifted off his feet by just one arm.

At this point the actor couldn't even scream as his voice-box was being crushed, blood starting to poor out of his mouth and dripping onto the floor.

"F-fucker!" Tom managed to gag out, right before the knife was brought down and plunged into his heart. His body was still kicking around for a second before going limp as Ghostface dropped him to the floor, taking a moment to admire his work before wiping the blood off between his fingers.