"Told you I'd make a movie someday, huh, (Y/N)?"
"Oh my God..."
It was with glossed over eyes and a splintered heart that you were watching a pre-recorded tape of your favourite horror geek, Randy Meeks.
Karen, Randy's sister, had ushered you and Gale inside. A young and scrawny goth girl wearing heavy make up and had contacted Gale, saying that she had something urgent to show you in particular.
And now that you were seeing Randy's face on the screen of the TV, your heart was aching so much you couldn't even bring it under words. It was unlike anything you'd ever felt before.
Randy was the person least deserving to die. He was so innocent and an amazing soul through and through, and it made you livid that he died in such a useless and cruel way.
What fucking point had there been in killing him? It was something you'd forever loathe Hallie and Derek for. You'd kill them yourself for it if given the chance.
You did no effort in trying to wipe the hot tears slipping down your red cheeks, and the sweet gesture of Gale holding your hand didn't help.
She, too, looked uncharacteristically distraught and was completely silent.
"Well, if you're watching this tape, it means as I feared, I did not survive these killings here at Windsor College. Anyway, the reason I am here is to help you, (Y/N), so that my death will not be in vain."
Oh, Randy... Fucking hell.
Each word he spoke felt like another dagger to the chest, you missed him so much. There was just something so beyond disturbing to listen to a recording of a dead friend.
And what made it so much worse was that he had already seen his own death coming.
You balled your hands at your sides to try to hide their shaking, holding your breath as if making a sound would distract Randy from talking.
"–That my life's work will help save some other poor soul from getting mutilated. If this killer does come back, and he's for real, there are a few things you gotta remember.
Is this simply another sequel? Well, if it is, same rules apply. But here's the critical thing. If you find yourself dealing with an unexpected backstory, then the sequel rules do not apply.
Because you are not dealing with a sequel, you are dealing with the concluding chapter of a trilogy."
For some reason, that last sentence sent shivers down your spine. You repeated in a broken voice, "A trilogy?"
Of course, you had heard of trilogies before. You had been a movie nerd yourself in the past but just weren't as invested as Randy had been.
You ignored the urge to just run out of the room but your (E/C) puddles were glued to the screen, no matter how much you wanted to look away.
His next words felt like they were being totally drowned out by your pulse in your ears and you quietly gasped as the boy directly responded to your question.
"That's right. You know what they are (Y/N), but I'll explain it anyway. It's a rarity in the horror field but it does exist, and it's a force to be reckoned with. Because true trilogies are all about going back to the beginning and discovering something that wasn't true from the get go."
You tried to soak in the information but it was just so hard, every bone in your body begging Randy to come back... You could scream at how much seeing him hurt.
The agony of having him there on the screen, but not next to you in person.
You'd never have that privilege again.
"So if it is a trilogy you're dealing with, here are some super important trilogy rules.
One, you got a killer who's gonna be super human. Stabbing him won't work, shooting him won't work, you gotta cryogenically freeze his head, decapitate him, or blow him up."
The broken smile on your face was pathetic. This boy really was obsessed with horror, wasn't he? But in the end, it graced him and made him the person he was.
There's something else you happened to notice through the blur of your tears. The entire time that Randy was speaking, he stared straight into the camera with those bright eyes of his as if he saw you.
As if he saw you sitting there on the couch. It made you want to crumble to pieces.
"Number two: anyone including the main character can die. This means you too, (Y/N). I'm sorry, it's the final chapter.
And 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 comitted in the past are about to break out and destroy you."
The past.
Oh yes, you had done some sinful things. If Randy knew how true his words were, he'd undoubtedly never live it down with a I told you so.
To think he had been right about Billy and Stu all along.
"Number four: Never, ever under any circumstances go running off by yourself, cause if Friday the 13th has taugh us anything, it's that the next time we're gonna see you, you're gonna have a fence post jutting out from your back.
So in closing, let me say good luck, God speed... And for some of you, I'll see you soon, cause the rules say, some of you ain't gonna make it. I didn't, not if you're watching this tape."
You would have preferred to have never heard him say those words, it stirred something in you. Something dark.
The hurt that was ripping your chest apart was only pushing up your throat and breaking out in a tearful sob.
"Randy... Come back..." You pleaded, your words barely understandable from how broken they were as the screen turned black.
He wasn't coming back. That tiny realization was soul destroying.
Gale and Karen both looked at you im sympathy and compassion as you stared at the wall, almost through the wall.
There was this rage festering inside your heart through the pain, almost consuming you whole. You were starting to get so angry you felt your body physically heat up.
That, right there, should not have happened.
You were doing your best to stay as level headed as a person could be about this with how jumbled your brain was.
There was no doubt in your mind that if Hallie or Derek were in the same room as you, you'd do unspeakable things to them.
It was definitely fucked up but the same couldn't be said of Billy and Stu. Even though it was the very same thing they'd done, they just meant too much to you.
You should be scared of them, especially because they almost blew you to pieces, but you were just not.
At least, not when they were just being themselves.
The persona that was Ghostface on the other hand made your blood boil, pressing a heavy weight on you that you couldn't remove.
Like there was this sick feeling crawling over your skin whenever you thought about that costume that you couldn't get rid of.
You wanted to see Ghostface as a seperate being and in a sense, it was. Everyone could be it, which made it scarier than your classic horror movie villain.
Voorhees, Myers, Krueger— with those you knew who you were dealing with and they were purely fictional characters.
All you needed to do to be Ghostface was buying robes and one of those masks that you could find anywhere. In other words, he was as real as you and me.
"Want to go for a walk?" Gale's worried voice fractured the quiet.
"I'll be okay," you assured her, but not entirely sure if you believed it at the second. "Can you bring me back? I'd like to take a shower."
Maybe it could wash away the pain.
Gale nodded and after saying your goodbyes to Karen, drove you back to the hotel.
Upon entering your hotel room you let out a drawn out sigh, your fingers instantly gripping the hem of your top as the fabric went over your arms and landed on the floor once it was over your head.
The rest of your clothing quickly followed suit while you entered the bathroom.
You pushed the glass doors open and stepped under the warm water, starting to wash yourself like you were washing away the stress and grief from your body.
While it did help somewhat, you still felt heavy and like you couldn't escape those heated feelings from before, they lingered.
You rested your head against the wall with your (H/L) wet hair sticking to the sides of your neck, feeling the water stream down over your shoulders and back.
Pinching your eyes shut, you rubbed at them with your thumb and forefinger as you made an effort to relax the endless thoughts rushing around in your brain, wanting to enjoy the feeling of the hot water spraying over you.
Swallowing down the dryness that had become sudden in your mouth, you turned off the water when you realized it did little to erase the images of Randy from your mind.
The air was thick with steam and as you grabbed a nearby towel to wipe
the condensation away from the mirror, you were nearly startled to death.
That same figure causing all the misery in your life stared back to you from the reflection of the mirror, looking so real you automatically whipped your face around to make sure that it wasn't.
But just like last time, it moved exactly as you did, its hand moving to the mirror slowly at the same time as you.
Just as the tips of your fingers briefly touched the hard surface, you instantly jerked your hand back as if you had recieved an electric shock.
You swore you could feel the warm leather of those pitch black gloves touching youe skin.
Staring at it dumbly, you didn't know what to make of it.
(A/N: I nearly sobbed writing this lol :( RIP Meeks...)