"Alright. Let's just assume the killer is repeating Woodsboro-" Gale cut herself off as her phone started ringing.
It hadn't taken long for Molly, Randy and Dewey find Gale and Joel. They were sitting under a pavilion, and Gale had been tapping her foot impatiently. Almost immediately, Gale started asking Dewey and Randy questions.
Gale picked up her phone and answered, irritation in her voice. "Yes?" Pause. "I'll have to call you back." She quickly closed it.
"That doesn't explain Molly's attack." Dewey said. "Molly wasn't killed in Woodsboro. That wasn't even their plan."
Randy, sitting next to Molly who had her arms crossed, shrugged. "Wasn't for a lack of trying."
"Besides," Molly muttered. "I did get attacked. Only once. And they let me go. Just like last night."
"The killer's trying to finish what was started." Randy said. "Sidney was stabbed, and should have bleed out back in Woodsboro. She was supposed to die. She's the one the killed really wants to gut."
Molly looked over at Randy with a face of disgust. "Ew..." she muttered.
"Well, Sidney's under protection, right?" Gale asked.
"Yeah." Dewey said.
Gale's phone rang again, and she picked it up, answering more aggressively this time. "What?! Tell Bob I'll call him back!" She ended the call.
"When'd she start smoking?" Dewey asked, leaning towards Molly and Randy. He was regarding the cigarette Gale was holding in her hand.
"Ever since those nude pictures on the internet." Randy answered.
Gale rolled her eyes. "It was just my head." Then she grumbled. "It was Jennifer Aniston's body."
Molly's mouth fell open in surprise. "Really?" She mouthed. Gale nodded. Molly sighed. "Damn." She muttered to herself, looking upset. The boys - including Joel - gave her a look.
"Anyway, you're forgetting something!" Gale said, getting everyone back on track. "In Woodsboro there was more victims before the homestretch." She took a breath. "Tatum," Dewey glanced away. "my cameraman, Himbry-"
"Hey, time out!" Joel cut Gale off, waving his hands. "See, I don't need to be hearing about no dead cameraman, alright? Now, I'm warning you guys: I am a verb away from vacatin' these premises. Now, I'm gonna go get me some coffee, some donuts, Prozac, see if I can find some crack, Special KX, not Malcom," Joel stood up as he ranted on. "and I'll be back when you guys start talkin' about something more Saved-By-The-Bell-ish. Alright?" He looked down at everyone before turning and walking off.
Dewey furrowed his eyebrows. "He seems a little shakey."
Gale glanced back at Joel's retreating form, shaking her head. "Don't worry about him. If the killer is following a pattern, then maybe we can figure out who's next."
"I wouldn't follow the killer's pattern." Dewey said. "We were all involved in Woodsboro. Could be any one of us.
"Okay, so, what do you wanna do, bonehead?" Gale said in annoyance. "You just wanna sit here and wait and see who drops next?"
Dewey shot her a look. "Well, I don't know..." He paused as Gale's phone started ringing again. "...Phonehead!"
Molly slowly looked over at him, narrowing her eyes in a "what the fuck was that?" sort of way.
Fed up with the constant ringing of the phone, Randy quickly picked it up and answered, anger filling his tone of voice. "Gale's not here!"
"I'm not interrupting anything, am I?" Replied a gravelly, deep voice. "You four look deep in thought." Randy's eyes slowly widened and his mouth hung open.
Molly furrowed her eyebrows worriedly and put her hand on his arm. "Rand?"
"Have you ever felt a knife cut through human flesh and scrape the bone beneath?"
Randy took the phone down, putting his hand over the speaker as the voice chuckled ominously. "Its him."
"Who?" Dewey asked.
Randy didn't get to answer. Molly beat him to it. "The killer." She said, her eyes wide.
Her boyfriend nodded. "He can see us."
The other three looked around, suddenly extremely paranoid. Of course they were anxious, now. Why wouldn't they be?
The four of them jumped up from their seats and exchanged glances.
"Just keep him on the phone." Dewey told Randy.
Randy shot him a look. "What do want me to say?"
"I-I don't know, just keep him talking." Dewey beckoned Gale and Molly. "Come on."
"What are we doing?" Gale asked.
"Looking for someone on their phone." Dewey said. "Come on!"
Molly held a hand out. "Hey, wait, I'm not leaving Randy alone." She said.
"No, Molly. Its fine." Randy told her. "I'll be fine."
Molly stared up at him, frowning. "You don't know that." She whispered. "This bitch is around here somewhere, Randy! He's killed four people in the span of twenty-four hours! You're on the phone with him, he could get you next!"
Randy put a hand on her shoulder. "Which is exactly why you shouldn't be standing with me." He told her. "Molly, go with Dewey and Gale. Please? You'll be safer."
Molly's eyes started burning as tears formed in them. "The first fucking rule of horror movies is don't split up." Molly said, her voice cracking. "Breaking it is breaking formalities."
Randy stared down at her. "Screw formalities."
Molly sighed. "Oh, God," She leaned up and kissed Randy, ignoring her involuntary tears. "I love you." She whispered as she pulled away, so that only Randy could hear it.
Randy swallowed the giddiness in his throat. "Love you too."
Reluctantly, Molly ran off with Dewey and Gale, and Randy was left alone with his thoughts and the killer's voice in his ear.
"Aw, that was cute!" Said the killer. "Y'know, I've heard that people don't get why she's dating a twit like you, but I can see it. Madam Mollicent and Sir Randall." The killer chuckled while Randy frowned, not knowing how he knew about their old nicknames for each other. "I think it was meant to be."
Randy cleared his throat. "Uh, thanks...I guess."
"Oh, you're welcome! How long have you been together?"
"Seven months...'bout to be eight...."
"That's sweet...Too bad it's about to be cut short."
"Uh, okay." Randy said. He looked around himself nervously. "So, uh...what's your favorite scary movie?"
"They'll never find me." The killer said, regarding the other three that had run off.
"Yeah, what do you care?" Randy said. "Let 'em have their fun." He glanced at where his friend's had disappeared to. "So uh...what's up?"
"What's your favorite scary movie?"
As Randy looked around, eyes skimming the yard for anything sketchy, he caught sight of a girl sitting on a picnic blanket with her friend nearby, talking on her phone.
"Showgirls." Randy answered, starting to run towards the girl. "Absolutely frightening. What's your's?" He reached the girl and grabbed her phone, only to realize it wasn't her.
The girl smacked his arm. "Ugh! What's your problem?!"
"Sorry." Randy said, backing away. He spoke to the killer again as he looked around. "Wiat, let me guess. The House on Sorority Row? The Dorm That Dripped Blood? Splatter University? Graduation Day? Final Exam?" He named mockingly. "Am I close?"
"Closer than you think."
Just then, someone rammed into Randy's shoulder, causing him to jump and shout in surprise. He spun around to see it was only a student running to catch a football. Randy sighed deeply.
"Too slow, geek." The killer said. "Do you want to die?"
"Is that the best you can do?" Randy patronized, suddenly very annoyed with this mysterious person over the phone. "Because Monty and his tweeps were much more original."
As Randy talked to the killer over the phone, Dewey, Molly and Gale had been running around the yard, picking on every person they saw on a phone and checking to make sure Randy wasn't on the other line.
Gale was the most aggressive of them all.
She snatched a girl's phone out of her hand, and held it to her own face. "Who's this?!" She asked quickly.
"Uh, who's this?" Said the annoying voice of a girl.
Gale made a face. "Gale Weathers, author of The Woodsboro Murders?" She introduced, as if it were obvious.
"Who?"
"Gale." Molly said. The woman glanced at her and took the phone away, tossing it back to the girl she took it from.
"Okay, he's gotta be around here someplace." Gale said, breathing heavily from running. "He's just playing with us."
As they looked around, Dewey spotted a man further off, talking on his phone. He quickly looked back at Gale.
"White male suspect, nine o'clock." He said.
"Who's clock?" Gale asked.
"Yours."
Gale took a quick look, seeing the same man.
"I'll go around the back." Dewey said as they watched the man turn and start to walk behind a lifted area.
The girls nodded and the three of them took off running.
Randy was still walking around senselessly, as it seemed more safe than standing in one place.
"Why are you even here, Randy?" Patronized the killer. "You'll never be the leading man."
It took Randy a minute to comprehend the killer's words, and when he did, he scowled deeply. "Fuuuck youuu!" He said into the phone loudly, full of disdain. As he neared Gale and Joel's news van, he saw a man with a phone to his ear walking past.
"No matter how hard you try, you'll never be the hero."
Randy ran towards the man and grabbed him by the shoulder turning him around. He wasn't the killer. "Shit!" He let go of the man and focused back on the conversation with the killer.
"Wrong guy, dead boy."
"Oh, yeah? Well, let's redirect a moment, Mr. I'm-So-Original." Randy said. "Huh?" He walked away from the van.
Molly and Gale were running side by side down the hill towards Dewey's white male suspect.
Molly was the one to snatch the phone away this time. Dewey jumped from the lift above, tackling the confused student with a little battle cry.
"Who is this?!" Molly exclaimed into the phone as Dewey struggled with man.
"I-I'm sorry who is this? Where's my son?!" Came the angry voice of a woman.
Molly groaned to herself. "Sorry." She mumbled, turning to Dewey and the utterly confused boy. "Not him."
Dewey immediately let the boy go. "Sorry."
The boy snatched his phone back and glared after as the three of them walked away.
"Where's renovation, huh?" Randy was saying to the killer as he circled the street where the van was parked. "Why copycat three high school loser-ass dickheads?" He questioned heatedly. "Stu was a pussy-ass wet rag! And Billy Loomis was a homo-repressed sex addict! And Monty Lipton?! Monty Lipton?! What the fuck!? Jesus! What a rat-lookin', shit-dick, psychopathic, bitchy momma's boy! Why not set your goals higher, huh?! You wanna be one of the big boys?! Huh?! Manson, Bundy, O.J. S-"
Randy cut himself off with his own shout as someone came up from behind and clamped their hand over his mouth. He was pulled back into the open news van, and his silent cries for help were cut off as a person in a Ghostface mask slammed the van shut.
Molly Birist was close to hysterics after they let Dewey's white male suspect go. Especially after they looked around and realized Randy was no longer in their sights.
"RANDY!" Molly screamed as she and the other two frantically run from the lift. She spun around, but her boyfriend was nowhere in sights.
As they neared the street, Joel approached them with a box of donuts. "Hey, what's going on?" He asked, seeing their state.
Molly turned to him, and then her eyes widened. Behind him was his and Gale's news van. The window in the back was broken, and a crimson liquid dripped down from under the closed door.
Her heartrate accelerating, Molly ran past Joel to the van.
"Ayo, who broke my window?!" The cameraman said.
Dewey pushed past Molly as they ran after her, and he slid the door open. As soon as he did, he wished he hadn't.
At the sight of Randy Meeks laying in the van, blood covered, throat slashed, stomach stabbed six times and blue eyes staring at nothing, Molly Birist and Gale Weathers screamed as loudly as they ever had.
Molly's hand covered her mouth as she sobbed, muffling her senseless "R-r-raa-andy!" as she began to hyperventilate.
A Ghostface mask sat in the driver's seat, the door of which was hanging open.
Dewey pulled Molly away, forcing her to look from Randy's body. The girl cried hopelessly into his chest, wailing uncontrollably. Tears from her face soaked his shirt, but neither of them bothered to care. Molly's sobs became more choked when she felt Gale hold her from behind, seeming like she was crying herself.
As Joel fainted after taking a look inside his van, Dewey's arm shot out to close the door again. And as Molly stood weakly sandwiched between Gale and the former Deputy weeping, Dewey whispered.
"Don't look at it, Molls. Just don't look."
Molly's only response was a loud, sorrow-filled wail.
Randy was dead.
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AUTHOR'S NOTE
I'm so fucking sorry-