“Why does everyone look like they’ve seen a ghost?”
Skeet Ulrich stood in Emma Roberts’ front doorway holding a bag of charcoal like he had just returned from the most mundane errand imaginable.
Behind him, the night air drifted into the house.
Inside, the room had gone still.
No one spoke.
No one moved.
Then Jasmin Savoy Brown tilted her head slightly.
“…A ghost?” she said slowly.
Skeet blinked.
“Yeah.”
Jasmin’s eyes narrowed.
“That’s an interesting word choice.”
Skeet frowned.
“What is?”
“Ghost.”
From the couch, Jamie Kennedy let out a short laugh.
“Yeah man,” Jamie said. “You walk into a house full of Ghostface survivors and open with ghost? That’s… a choice.”
Skeet lifted the charcoal bag slightly.
“I was grilling.”
“That’s not a defense,” Jamie replied.
Across the room, Melissa Barrera stood near the staircase beside Jenna Ortega. Both of them still looked shaken.
Melissa spoke quietly.
“Neve’s dead.”
Skeet laughed automatically.
The laugh died halfway out of his mouth.
“…Wait.”
No one corrected her.
No one softened it.
Skeet looked around the room again.
Faces pale.
Eyes wide.
People watching each other like every single person might be the killer.
“…Okay,” Skeet said slowly.
“Someone want to explain what the hell I missed?”
Scott Foley stepped forward first.
“Someone stabbed Neve upstairs.”
Skeet blinked again.
“What?”
Liana Liberato nodded beside him, still shaking.
“We saw it.”
“You saw it?” Skeet repeated.
“Yes.”
“And you’re all just standing here?”
Hayden Panettiere spoke from near the kitchen.
“No one checked the body.”
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The room shifted.
That was the truth none of them wanted to admit.
They had seen the attack.
Assumed the worst.
And then they had run.
Oliver Kushmore stood near the coffee table, joint glowing faintly in his hand. He exhaled smoke slowly.
“So to recap,” Oliver said.
“Neve Campbell is dead upstairs. Half the room thinks Scott and Liana did it. Skeet vanished into the night with charcoal. And we’re all still trapped inside a house with someone who clearly studied the franchise harder than we did.”
Joel McHale pulled out his phone.
“We need to call the police.”
He looked at the screen.
“No signal.”
Jenna checked hers.
“Same.”
Oliver glanced toward the ceiling.
“Wi-Fi’s out too.”
A beat.
Oliver’s voice dropped slightly.
“The killer just cut the house off.”
Then—
The lights went out.
Every single one.
The entire house plunged into darkness.
Someone screamed.
Phones appeared instantly.
Flashlights flickered to life across the room.
Thin white beams cut through the dark.
The living room fractured into moving shadows.
“Stay together!” someone shouted.
“Who touched the lights?”
“Where’s the breaker?”
No one answered.
People began moving.
Someone bumped into a chair.
Someone else knocked over a glass on the table.
A phone beam swung wildly across the walls.
And somewhere in the darkness—
Scream-Face moved.
Emma Roberts had stepped into the hallway moments before the blackout.
Her house.
Her party.
Her responsibility.
She had been trying to restore order when the lights vanished.
Emma pulled out her phone.
The flashlight beam cut down the hallway.
“Guys?”
Silence.
She took a cautious step forward.
“Hello?”
The air shifted behind her.
Emma turned.
The mask appeared slowly out of the darkness.
Not the familiar Ghostface mask.
Something worse.
A twisted, stretched face modeled after the famous Scream painting, warped into something grotesque and alive.
Emma gasped.
“Oh—”
The knife moved instantly.
A slash across her side.
Emma stumbled back into the wall.
“Wait—!”
The blade drove forward.
Once.
Twice.
Emma Roberts collapsed in the hallway of her own house.
Her phone dropped.
The flashlight rolled across the ceiling before settling.
Rory Culkin stood near the top of the staircase with Hayden and Mikey.
“Okay okay nobody panic,” Rory said.
“We just need to—”
Emma’s distant scream cut through the house.
Everyone froze.
“What was that?” Hayden whispered.
Rory turned toward the hallway.
“I’ll check.”
He stepped toward the stairs.
The mask appeared at the landing.
Rory saw it.
He barely had time to react.
A shove.
Hard.
Rory tipped backward over the railing.
His body crashed onto the hardwood floor below with a sickening crack.
Hayden screamed.
Mikey Madison ran through the kitchen.
Her phone beam bounced across cabinets.
“Hello?!”
She turned the corner.
Straight into the killer.
Mikey jumped.
“Jesus— okay that’s not funny—”
The knife flashed.
Mikey shoved the figure instinctively.
“Knock it off!”
The blade came again.
One strike.
Two.
Three.
Mikey collapsed beside the counter.
The killer stepped over her body.
Already moving again.
Timothy Olyphant reached the back door.
He had been trying to get everyone outside.
Trying to find a way out.
He opened the door.
The mask waited on the other side.
The knife plunged into his chest.
Timothy staggered backward into the house.
He collapsed near the door.
Jamie Kennedy stumbled into the kitchen seconds later.
“Okay this is officially—”
The knife swung.
Jamie screamed and dropped flat to the floor.
The blade passed inches above him.
Scream-Face lunged—
Then ran past him.
Chasing someone else down the hallway.
Jamie blinked.
He looked down at himself.
No blood.
No wound.
Jamie slowly stood.
Then shouted down the hall.
“HEY!”
Everyone froze.
“I’M RANDY!”
Jamie pointed after the fleeing killer.
“You’re supposed to kill me too!”
Silence.
Jamie shook his head.
“Unbelievable.”
Suddenly—
The lights snapped back on.
The house exploded with brightness.
And the horror revealed itself.
Emma in the hallway.
Rory below the staircase.
Mikey in the kitchen.
Timothy at the back door.
People began screaming.
Melissa covered her mouth.
Jenna grabbed her arm.
Hayden backed into the wall.
Scott Foley’s phone began to ring.
Every head turned toward him.
Scott stared at the screen.
Unknown number.
He answered.
“…Hello?”
The distorted voice spoke calmly.
“Impressive.”
“A house full of Scream veterans.”
“And none of you can stop me.”
Scott swallowed.
“Who are you?”
The voice chuckled softly.
“Someone who studied the franchise more carefully than you.”
A pause.
“You should be proud.”
“You made it to Act Three.”
The call ended.
Silence swallowed the room.
Then—
A knock at the door.
Everyone jumped.
Another knock.
Polite.
Normal.
Jamie whispered:
“…You’ve got to be kidding me.”
The door opened slowly.
Standing outside were Liev Schreiber and McKenna Grace.
Liev held a small overnight bag.
McKenna had a backpack slung over her shoulder.
Both looked confused.
Liev glanced around the room.
“…Did we miss something?”
McKenna leaned slightly past him.
“Is this rehearsal?”
Jamie stared at them.
Then turned slowly back to the others.
“…Two more suspects.”

