𝐟𝐢𝐯𝐞, 𝙩𝙧𝙞𝙡𝙤𝙜𝙮 𝙧𝙪𝙡𝙚𝙨

Comincia dall'inizio
                                    

This new killer was taking credit for Maureens murder.

"So, if this is a trilogy you're dealing with, here are some super trilogy rules! One, you got a killer who's going to be superhuman. Stabbing him won't work, shooting him won't work. Basically by the third one you have to cryogenically freeze his head, decapitate him, or blow him up. Number two, anyone including the main character can die. That means you, Kim, Sid. I'm sorry, but it's the final chapter. It can be fucking Reservoir Dogs by the time this thing is through. Number three; the past will come back to bite you in the ass! Whatever you think you know about the past, forget it! The past is not at rest. Any sins you think were committed in the past are about to come out and destroy you."

Kim wished she wasn't on the verge of tears as the tv flickered.

"So, in closing, let me say good luck, godspeed. And, for some of you, I'll see you soon, 'cause the rules say you ain't gonna make it. I didn't, not if you're watching this tape."

Kimberly sniffed as the tv cut to black. She just missed her best friend.

-*-

Kimberly held up a hand to wave off Detective Wallace, gesturing towards the bathroom. She entered the room, Sidney, Dewey, and the detective waiting outside.

Her first stop was not in a stall, but instead she gave herself a sharp look in the mirror. She felt as though she would puke again. She bent down, turning the water on and giving it a good splash. Her hands were shaking.

This bathroom was to be used for the movie, and it was an exact replica of the upstairs bathroom of her old high school. It gave her flashbacks.
"You can barley see it!" She remembered Tatum dabbing foundation at a bruised spot on her neck. A hickey. Addressed to her the night before by the one and only Stu Macher.

By that point, Sidney had just come out of the stall and began washing her hands. She stared as Tatume worked her makeup magic. "You're completely different tones," she dabbed her hands clean with a paper towel. "That is definitely not your shade, Kim."

Kim scoffed. It was their junior fun day, which meant every junior in the school had been out doing festive activities, including water balloon fights. Kim had covered the bruise up when she woke up that morning, but she had not been planning on getting doused in filtered water, which washed the makeup off almost instantly.

Tatum rolled her eyes, shutting her compact closed as she wiped her finger down Kim's chin, attempting to erase her makeup line.

"You can barely tell, you'll be fine," now, Tatum was leaning over the sink and getting near the mirror, fixing up her own mascara. "Besides, there's only two hours left, and we'll be outside the whole time. Just stay away from the water balloons."

With that, Kim gave herself one last reassuring glare in the mirror, and then the three were out the door. Kim could still remember like it was yesterday. And, although the memory slightly shattered her heart, it made her smile.

As if she'd been in the clam before the storm, her stomach began to roar. She whipped around in a swift move, kicking open the first stall door. She tried her hardest to hold back her hair as she dropped her knees to the white tiles. Vomiting, two days in a row. She didn't feel sicker than usual, especially given her circumstance.

She spat out a good three or four times before reaching up and flushing her stomach acid down the toilet. She still felt exhausted, though, and needed another minute to gain her energy.

THUD!

Her breath caught in her throat as she stood up suddenly, dipping her hand into her pocket and pulling out a mini canister of pepper spray. Slowly, her own stall door creaked open, and she was revealed to see who was in front of it.

"Angelina?"

Sid's double wore a blue button top, and a long back skirt that reached her ankles. "Kimberly?" Her voice sounded almost shrail. "I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to interrupt or scare you."

Kim looked down at her hand, realizing her pepper spray was still aimed at the small brunette. She mumbled a sorry, plunging the weapon back into her jacket pocket.

She shook her head, wiping her mouth again. "No, no, you're fine."

Angelina scanned the older girl up and down, examining. "Are you okay? Did you just—" Kimberly cut her off, pushing Angelina over gently so she could exit the stall. "No, no. Just, jitters, being back here again."

Angelina flared up and down at her, as if she were a puzzle she just couldn't figure out. Her eyes were squinted, he eyelids narrow. The sparkle in her brown eyes made Kim's stomach churn. Something about it was frighteningly familiar.

final girl, stu macherDove le storie prendono vita. Scoprilo ora