InsaneJournal

The darkness had never really bothered her. She spent her life in the dark - dark rooms, editing bays, projection booths, theaters - and for a year and a half, it seemed the entire town of Lakewood had been shrouded in a perpetual, if only emotional, darkness. That wasn't the problem. It was the constant, oppressive weight of anxiety just sitting on her chest and shoulders that made her feel like she wanted to scream and lash out at something. She'd done her best so far to hold it together, but something was bound to break, and she'd already pushed her luck where it came to avoiding those things. No less than four people had told her not to go to work that evening. Just stay home and wait it out. But she was a final girl, she wasn't about to hide when she had a life to live. If there was something waiting for her in the shadows, she was going to face it down and she'd do so with a knife tucked down in the back of her pants (even if she knew it was utterly useless, it was still a knife, and every final girl needed her weapon).

Whatever magic-cum-science Cisco had managed to pull out of his genius brain that morning seemed to have pushed the visitors away from the building, though. And even the subway lines felt a little lighter than they had on Saturday. She made it all the way to her stop on Broadway idly flipping songs into one of two playlists before wrapping her headphones around her phone and shoving both into her back pocket to make the few block walk down to the theater where she worked. The streets were nicely bustling, the air smelled gross and hot like New York was supposed to, and she wasn't feeling really all that bad until something cold brushed her shoulder and she heard the words - the voice - that she never in her life wanted to hear again...

Hey there, killer.

Audrey whipped around and swiped a woman with a Starbucks cup who glared her down with a "Watch it, freak." But her heart was already pounding in her throat and her hand instinctively went to her pocket to get her phone. She hadn't heard it ring. Why would she? Kieran was dead. Kieran was dead but there was still one more killer out there and he was out for her blood specifically. She could expose him in every possible way, take from him everything he loved, run him into the ground, and he knew that she wouldn't hesitate, so he had tried to destroy her first. And now a tingle of fear and a lump in her throat warned her that he was there to do just that. Kevin Duvall was there to get his revenge.

But she wasn't about to make it easy for him.

She strummed her fingers on the side of her leg and tried to still her breathing, letting the cold wash across her, feeding the fire with her anxiety, and turned away from the crowd into a wide alley. There were a couple of dim lights from store windows spilling into it, scaffolding up across the gaping mouth, and a dumpster half propped open on one side. It wasn't private, but it was good enough. She'd done a lot more with a lot less, after all. She could handle a middle-aged man with a god complex and no concept of when to fucking stop. So she ducked into the alley and shifted her bag behind her, reaching up under her shirt to unsnap the strap that held the Buck in place, and slowly withdrew it from its sheath. Pick up a weapon and gain sight, she thought, just as she saw the black robes shift into view.

"Fucking cliche," she said as it moved in on her and she flipped the Buck around in her hand, then quickly thought don't monologue, keep it quippy. "Hasn't anyone ever told you that you never wear another killer's mask?"

She struck out with both hands just as the figure came within reach - one hand with a knife, the other reaching for what she saw as a white face with hollow eyes and distorted mouth. But she'd no sooner come in contact with it than a shock rolled through her, cold and hungry and hard. Everything went black. Someone screamed.

All of this is all about some messed up daddy issues?

Nice mask. Big plans later?

That bitch talks too much.

You broke my heart! I loved you, okay?

Shoot him, shoot him, Emma!

Piper is dead. That movie is over.

The only one left is the raccoon-eyed, weird girl who only wears black.

Nina was a stone-cold bitch who got what she deserved.

She came to on her knees on the ground, her own voice still ringing in her ears, waves of fear and revulsion and nausea running up her spine and settling hard in her chest. For a long time, she couldn't move. She could barely even breathe. But she felt the metal of the Buck under her hand and, like a lifeline, clung to it as she curled back onto her heels and slowly rolled to the side and put her back to the brick wall. She was alive, which at the end of the day was the only important thing. She was alive and there was blood on her shirt from where she'd cut her hand when she fell, but it was barely even superficial. She wiped her palm off and dragged her knees up tight against her chest, settling her bag next to her as she took a few hard, deep breaths. Then she reached for her phone. Her whole body felt numb, her mind didn't feel like it belonged to her, but she had just enough left in her to get help. In her world - in the slasher world - it was still night. The fight wasn't over yet. She needed backup.