Scream: The Storybook

rueling week of classes and after-school activities. The house was quiet, save for the rhythmic thud-thud-thud of kernels exploding in the microwave and the distant, muffled soun

ith her parents out at a local fundraiser, it wa

n ghosts – a seasonal touch her mom insisted upon. The red glow of the microwave display counted down the last few seconds: 0:05.

g to her lip. She expected a familiar voice, perhaps her boyfriend, Steve Orth, calling to say h

with an unnerving lack of inflection. It wasn't Steve. It w

unease rippling through her. "Who i

ves, drifted through the receiver

etorted, her voice tinged with irritat

something sly creeping into its tone.

rn of phrase, sent a shiver down her spine despite the warmth of the popcorn. "That's not funny," she

cat-and-mouse quality that made the hairs

n the quiet house. She glanced around, as if expecting to see someone materializ

ts tone hardening almost imperceptib

g held her back – a strange curiosity, a desire not to appear rattled. "Alright," s

the voi

ng games," Casey said, h

its playful pretense, becoming sharper

a prank. This wasn't a wrong number. This was... something else entirely. "Look,

its authority chilling. "Because you

t, to slam the phone down, but a morbid fascination, mingle

a hint of amusement returning. "

me? Her eyes darted around the kitchen, then to the darkened living room beyond. Th

e?" he pressed, as if oblivious

teve, maybe? No, Steve wouldn't. Tatum? No way. "Halloween," she blurted out, th

e approved, a hint of a smile in his to

r voice shaky. "Drew Barr

e of taunting entering his voice. "She

ctress, was in this movie that was about to unfold. He was playing a game, and she was the first victim. Her breath caught in her thr

voice dropping to a low, chilling growl. "And i

d running cold. "What are you t

here outside the house, she heard a muffled, agonized gr

hud, scattering buttery kernels everywhere. Her eyes were wide, darting towards the back door, then to t

med, its tone laced with cruel satisfa

owards the patio door. Her hand, slick with sweat, gripped the cold metal handle. Slowly, agonizingly, she slid it open a c

she s

s branches skeletal against the night sky. He was bound, gagged, his head bowed.

w, for the game. Basic horror movie trivia. You answer wrong, Steve gets a littl

ay out. Her parents would be home soon. But how soon? "Wh

oyfriend dies," the killer announced, ignoring

. Jason, right? But wasn't it... someone else in the first one? Panic

fraid not, Casey. The correct answer is Pamela Voo

Casey's own scream was trapped in her throat, a choked, guttural sound of pure agon

d and clinical, yet tinged with a preda

a chilling buzz. Her legs, stiff with terror, propelled her towards the back door. She fumbled with the deadbolt, her fingers clumsy, slick with

e neighborhood. She ran blindly, her eyes scanning the dark yard, the outline of the

rustle in the bushes, then the distinct sq

a jumbled mess of fear and instinct. Get to the car. Get to the phone. Get away. S

voice, closer than befo

tted against the dim glow of the streetlights. The Ghostface mask, a elongated, distorted scream frozen in pla

t. She fell hard onto the porch, scraping her knee on the rough concre

the relentless march of death. Casey scrambled backwards, desperate,

ears streaming down her

, the silent mask an unfeeling void. Then, with

sed, a desperate dance with death. The cold October air was suddenly filled with the coppery tang of blood, mingling with the scent of freshly cut grass. Her vision blurred, t

ker, returning from the local charity gala, chattered idly about the evening's rather dull speeches and Debbie's surprisingly successful bid on

e mused, reaching for her purse in th

aches of a long day. As he reached to open Debbie's door, something caught his eye, hanging from the sturdy branch

perhaps? But it was too large, too human-shaped, swaying gentl

ked, following his gaze,

learer, horribly so. A human figure, suspended, arms outstretched, like some macabre ornament. And then, as the

yes widening in horror. A piercing, raw scream tore from her throa

ing him. His daughter. Hanging there. Lifeless. He

ail escaping her lips, stumbling across the lawn t

ngers trembling too much to dial. He dropped it. Stumbled to pick it up, his eyes never leaving the grotesque

e lights flashed, painting the quiet suburban homes in an eerie, pulsing glow. Neighbors, roused by the screams and the sudden

n off the area with yellow tape, turning the once-welcoming home into a crime scene. Paramedics rushed to Debbie, who had coll

ing ever happened. Until now. The news would spread like wildfire through the small community, leaving behind a ch

hiding in plain sight. And the game, as far as anyone knew, had only just begun. The Halloween decorat