The early sun cast light upon an otherwise dark and joyless morning as the blood stained campus slowly came to life.
The local campus security office had been converted into a media event;
news trucks, cameras and reporters stood guard while inside the place was packed, no longer just a campus security office.
The place had changed to the local police station as well as FBI headquarters, uniforms and suits swarming the place.
In the back section of the room, Sheriff Hartley and Captain Tyler were in the middle of a huge discussion with Dean Fisher, the headmistress.
It had been a sleepless night for everyone, really.
"We don't know if it's random. We haven't been able to connect the victims," Captain Tyler spoke loudly, scrunching his nose.
"The first two were stabbed without thought. The sorority girl was gutted with autopsy precision."
"Christ!" Daen threw her hands up in the air, raising her voice. "Just do something. I will not have a repeat of Woodsboro. Not on my campus."
Dewey listened in to the exchange, slowly stepping forward. "(Y/N) (L/N), Sir. She's the connection."
They all turned to him, giving him a pointed look. "We know that, son."
"The killer was trying to get to her. That sorority girl was just a distraction," Dewey summed up. "The killer is obviously repeating Woodsboro. I can fill you in on what I know."
Captain Tyler rolled his eyes, pulling Dewey aside. "Look, son. I know you've lived through this, but we got it under control. Why don't you have some coffee?"
Just then, Gale Weathers stepped in the room, guided by two officers.
"Thank you, Miss Weathers, for coming here," the Sheriff greeted her sternly.
Captain Tyler gave Dewey a patronizing pat on the back, sending him off. "We were hoping you could help with the killer's profile."
About ten minutes later, the three of them were standing with a chalk board in front of them. Three names were written on it under the label 'victims'.
'Maureen Evans'
'Phil Stevens'
'Cici Taylor'
Gale pinched her chin thoughtfully between her forefinger and thumb, looking like she was about to crack a detective case. "Maureen Evans– Maureen Prescott, the first victim in the Woodsboro Murders. Phil Stevens- Stephen Orth, the first kid to be murdered. Ten to one, Cici is not the third victim's real name."
"It's Cassandra," the Sheriff filled in for her.
Gale paused, peeking at the man and then glancing back at the board in front of them. "Nickname Cassie, or Casey. The third victim in Woodsboro. She was hung from a tree and gutted."
The room went eerily quiet as everyone came to a startling realization.
"Jesus Christ..." Captain Tyler mumbled, his face becoming more uncomfortable as he rubbed the back of his neck.
Gale pressed her fingers to her lips as a frown crossed her face. "You're dealing with a complete copycat here. The killer is even going in sequence."
Captain Tyler sat up. "Who was the next victim in Woodsboro?"
"In the book or in the movie?"
He stared at her like she had just committed a heinous crime. "Let's try reality."
"Ryan Stewart," Gale informed the man. "(Y/N)'s ex boyfriend."
The Sheriff looked dismayed and flew out of his seat, rounding out of the smaller room to order his men in an authorative tone. "Find me every variation of the name Stewart. Both on campus and the surrounding community. I want names ASAP."
Dean Fisher, who had been watching silently for the entire time while fidgeting with her ring, nodded her head. "I'll get you full access."
The room broke into a fury as everyone jumped into action.
"What about (Y/N)?" Gale sat down in a nearby chair, running her finger over the cup of coffee she was holding. "Is she safe?"
"She's completely insulated," the Captain reassured her. I've got my men on her."
Dewey stepped into the room again, ignoring the unwanted stares sent his way. Gale's eyes found his. "What about her current boyfriend Derek?"
-
"You know, you really look hot with those, babes."
"Seriously, Altieri, you're as sensitive as a doorknob. (Y/N) almost got killed last night and that's the first thing you say to her?"
You were walking towards the Film Department to head towards your first class of the day, with your boyfriend Derek on your left who had his arm around your waist protectively, and Mickey to your right, whose mouth was curved into a wolfish smile.
"Calm your tits loverboy," Mickey rolled his eyes at him as he continued to talk, following his movement of walking in opposite direction. "(Y/N) knows I'm just joking around. Don'tcha?"
You scowled, not in the mood for his banter today. "Of course, Mickey."
For the past thirty minutes, all Mickey had been doing was sneaking in remarks about the several patches covering your once clean skin.
They were painfully fresh reminders of the life and death struggle you'd went through just last night.
Your boyfriend had apperently scared the killer off and stayed with you, which you were extremely thankful for.
When the both of you woke up, Derek kept insisting you should just skip the rest of the week and while you had briefly considered it, what good would being alone do?
You'd even take Mickey's teasing over having no one around, even though he reminded you too much of Stu Macher these days. They were a lot alike.
Anyway, you weren't really alone anymore. Two police officers were following you around wherever you went like guard dogs, watching your every move. They didn't even let you use the bathroom alone.
"Are you going with us tonight?" You asked, not so subtly switching topic. "To the Shakespeare tragedy, I mean."
When Hallie came to you with the proposal earlier, your first instinct was to decline, but the pleading tone in her voice broke the barrier of apprehension you had and since both of you were free in the afternoon, she was going to take you shopping as well.
"Thanks, but no thanks," Mickey shook his head, following closely behind you and Derek, into the classroom. "Not even Hallie can convince me to watch that crap."
When evening finally arrived, you had been contorting your body in all different angles to try pull the zipper up yourself but no matter how much you bent and twisted, to your utter aggravation, you simply couldn't reach it. "Hey Halls. Can you zip this up for me?"
The dress you had bought just hours ago was red in colour and just reached above your knees. It had a halter neck and glitter on the edges.
Overall, it looked really nice on you and hugged your body in the right places.
It took a lot of convincing from your friend to wear it, as you felt highly awkward with the white patches on your arms and face.
But Hallie merely threatened she'd kill the person staring at you. While you knew she was obviously overexaggerating, you appreciated her protectiveness.
When minutes passed and you still hadn't made any progress, you gave up and approached the mirror where she was leaning with her nose less than an inch from her reflection, staring in deep concentration at her own face.
"What? Oh, sure."
Hallie effortlessly closed the zipper and immediately returned to the mirror, drawing lines and blotting colours all over her skin.
On the table layed a disorderly mess of brushes, powders and creams.
"Thanks," you said, peering at the collection of brushes. "Why are you putting all that make up on? We're just going to a play and Mickey's not going."
"Oh, shut up. You think it's too much?'
You winced. Her eyelids had been coated in a dark blue substance and her cheeks a deep shade of magenta.
"Well, it's..." You paused, searching for the right words. "It's a lot. More than you usually wear."
With a heavy sigh, Hallie slumped over the table with her head in her hands. "Ugh, you're right. I look like a fucking clown."
"That's not what I meant," you assured her, desperate to remedy the situation while there still was time. "I just think you look fine without it."
If anything, you were the one to be worried with how you looked, you thought to yourself.
She looked into the mirror, taking some time to re-examine her appearance. Defeated, she reached for a small bag and a bottle of clear solution. "You're right. I look worse than a clown."
She went to work, dragging the cloth over her skin to easily remove all the colour, before turning and tilting her head at you with concern. "You okay?"
"Yeah," you shrugged, mindlessly fiddling with a decorative button on the front of your dress. "I guess I'm just nervous."
You forced yourself to turn around, shuffling toward the closet to dig out your shoes and slipped them on.
"What are you thinking about? You look like you're doing advanced maths or some shit."
"Uh," you stammered, rushing to come up with an answer. You didn't want to tell her about what Dewey and the Sheriff explained to you.
It was for her own good. Pulling people into this mess would only bring them in harm's way. "Nothing."
She gave you a 'I don't buy it for a second' look, squeezing your arm. "Whatever. Let's go."
You took several more coaxing breaths before finally heading into the hallway where you bumped into Derek almost straight away.
"Sorry, I was just–" he cut himself off with a gasp, giving you a slow once over. "Wow. You look great, baby."
Your heart drummed in your chest so forcefully that it knocked the wind out of you as you blushed a deep shade of red. "Thank you."
The heat rushed across your skin, radiating all the way to your face at the warmth of his fingers linking with yours.
Your little moment was cut short by the sound of a throat clearing behind you, where Hallie was impatiently tapping her foot on the floot. "Come on, lovebirds."
With the two guards on the rear, the five of you walked outside, making your way for the theatre.
While Hallie and Derek were chatting about something you couldn't be arsed to keep up with, you were alone with your thoughts, walking a few paces behind them.
You couldn't think about the play. The only thing you could think about was the event of yesterday, forever etched into your brain.
On top of that, there was also this sudden indescribable sensation you had of being watched.
At first you told yourself it was just the two cops, but they had been watching you all day and it didn't feel remotely the same to what you were feeling now.
The world was not so much spinning on its axis as it was tossing from side to side, and the vertigo was making your head hurt and your heart beat faster.
Your knees gave out and you collapsed to the ground, dark spots flashing in and out of your vision.
"(Y/N)!"
You could hear several pairs of footsteps rushing toward you and people calling out your name.
You felt a hand on your back and as you reopened your (E/C) orbs, you watched the stones beneath you gradually stop bubbling and rolling.
Soon, the ground was still and you found everyone standing around you with their eyes glued to you.
You began to shake as you covered your head, praying they would all leave.
"Babe, are you alright?"
It was Derek's worried voice. He was kneeling in front of you.
You finally lifted your head as your vision cleared, extremely aware of the embarrassment you felt at having caused a scene.
"I'm sorry," you whispered, dropping your head again. "I just got dizzy, is all... I'm okay."
Hallie sank to her knees in a hurry, rattling off a series of questions. "(Y/N), are you okay? What happened? Do you want to go back?"
"I'm fine," you answered groggily.
"People who are fine don't collapse out of the blue–"
"I'm fine, Hallie, please!" You snapped, weary of the incessant badgering. Regret set in immediately and you reached out for your friend, shaking your head. "I'm sorry..."
Your words trailed off when your voice broke, and Derek turned to Hallie. "It's alright, I have her. You go ahead."
Hallie's concerned expression didn't relax, not even a little. "Fine."
As Derek helped you to your feet, you couldn't do anything but look away from him.
"There's something bothering you," Derek observed, gently cupping the side of your face with his hand. "Talk to me, (Y/N). What's wrong?"
Hundreds of memories of Ryan fired through your mind, so fast and fierce and intense it made you want to cry. You could care less about the two guards nearby, hearing and seeing the whole thing.
You needed to do this. There was no other choice, no matter how torn you felt.
With a heavy heart, you choked your next words out. "I- Derek... We can't do this anymore."
Derek's brows creased. "What do you mean?"
Whatever deity was out there wasn't keen on giving you a break.
You choked against your hands, the sob you seemed to have been holding back now finally getting the better of you. "We're... We're over. I'm sorry, it's for your own safety."
You stared at him after dropping the bombshell, feeling every fibre in your body shattering at the broken look he gave you.
The hurt 'you can't possibly be serious' was almost too much.
After realizing that you weren't joking, it changed to devastated, heartbroken and crushed all at once.
Even in this moment, you still couldn't shake off the same dreadful feeling of being watched but no matter how much you peeked around into every direction, no one except for your four companions came into view.