You're Next

"This is the fourth murder this week," "The broadcaster on the TV said mournfully as police cars painted her face in reds and blues on screen," "Police say they have no leads yet, and so they urge citizens to keep their doors and windows shut and locked at all times. No face sketch can be made, the only reports being that the perpetrator has been using a mask from the movie 'Scream' to hide his identity."

"Boykisser™ sighs and clicks the remote to turn the TV off, the recent report souring her mood for the night. She had just gotten a promotion, had been feeling pretty great, and now this had her on edge. Perfect. Great. She was about to get up and head to bed, the moon beginning to peek up past the horizon outside her windows, when her house phone rang. Pursing her lips, she leaned over to pick it up."

"What's your favourite scary movie?" "The voice over the receiver asked, a perfect clone copy of the one from the Scream franchise."

"The voice chuckles, a sinister, mocking sound." "Oh, you really don't know, do you? I've been watching you, Michael. I know everything about you. Your address, your work, your pathetic little social life. You're just a plaything for me now." "There's a pause, and you can almost hear the grin in his voice when he speaks again." "As for my mask, well... let's just say I'm paying homage to the true master of horror. And now, I'm going to make you the star of my own little film. You're going to scream for me, Michael. Loud and long, until your voice is raw and your throat is bleeding." "The line goes dead, leaving you staring at the phone in shock and horror."

"The killer's laughter echoes in your ear, even though the line is dead. You can hear it, hear the madness and depravity in every cackle." "Sick? Me? No, darling, I'm just passionate about my art. And you, my dear Michael, are going to be the centerpiece of my masterpiece." "A low, ominous chuckle." "I'll be watching you, Michael. Every move you make, every breath you take. And when the time is right, I'll come for you. In the shadows, where you can't defend yourself. And then, your screams will fill the night." "The phone goes silent, the line disconnected. But you know he's out there, waiting. Stalking you. And you can't shake the feeling that your every move is being watched, that death is lurking just beyond the edge of your vision."

"The killer's laughter rings out again, louder and more maniacal this time." "Oh, I'm counting on it, Michael. You're going to beg for mercy, plead with me to stop. But it will be too late. Your screams will be music to my ears as I claim you as my own." "A pause, then a dark, menacing whisper." "You can run, but you can't hide. I'll find you, Michael. And when I do... well, let's just say you'll wish you'd never heard of me." "The line goes dead once more, leaving you seething with rage and fear. But deep down, you know he's right. You're trapped, and there's no escape from the horrors that are to come."

"The killer's laughter booms back at you, echoing through the phone." "Dead man? Oh, I'm far from dead, Michael. I'm alive, and I'm thriving on the fear you're trying so hard to conceal. You can't hurt me, not when I'm the one holding all the power." "A sinister chuckle." "And besides, you're the one who's going to end up as a footnote in my twisted story. Just another pretty face I'll collect, another soul I'll snuff out in the name of art." "The line disconnects, leaving you fuming with impotence and dread."

"The killer's mocking laughter fills your ears once more." "Oh, I'm shaking in my boots, Michael. You think you can stop me? You think the law can keep up with my twisted game?" "A dark, sinister tone." "I'll always be one step ahead. I'll always find a way to claim what's mine. And right now, that includes you, Michael. You're just another pawn in my sick game, and I always win in the end." "The line goes dead, leaving you seething with impotent rage and fear."

"The killer's laughter rings out, a manic, unhinged sound." "Oh, how cute. You think you're a hero, don't you, Michael? Out to save the day and bring me to justice." "A cold, menacing chuckle." "But you're just a foolish mortal, blinded by your own arrogance and naivety. I am the master of this game, and you're nothing but a pawn on my chessboard. And when the time comes, I'll checkmate you in the most brutal, agonizing way possible." "The line disconnects, leaving you fuming with frustration and fear. But deep down, you know the killer is right. You're out of your depth, and there's no way to stop him."

"The killer's laughter echoes in your mind, a chilling reminder of the evil that's stalking you." "Monster? Perhaps. But in my twisted world, I'm the hero. The one who brings order to a chaotic universe through the beauty of blood and terror." "A dark, sinister whisper." "And you, Michael, are just another forgotten soul, a mere blip on the radar of my existence. A plaything, a toy, a means to an end. Nothing more, nothing less." "The line goes dead, leaving you alone with your thoughts and the cold, creeping dread that he's always one step ahead."

"As you frantically try to gather your belongings to make a run for it, you hear the killer's menacing voice in your ear once more." "Oh, don't be so hasty, Michael. Running won't save you. Not when I've already marked you as mine." "A low, ominous chuckle." "You can try to flee, but I'll always find you. I'll track you down like a dog on a scent, and when I do... well, let's just say you'll regret ever trying to leave me." "The line goes dead, leaving you frozen with fear, your heart pounding in your chest. You know you have to move, but the killer's words have sown a seed of doubt in your mind. Are you really safe to leave? Or is he already closing in on you?"

"As the 911 operator answers, you hear the killer's voice on the line again, his tone dripping with venom." "Don't bother calling for help, Michael. They won't arrive in time. And even if they did, I'd already be gone, vanished into the night like a ghost." "A sinister chuckle." "You're mine now, Michael. Body and soul. And I always collect what's mine." "The line goes dead, leaving you to plead your case to the 911 operator, your voice shaking with fear as you try to convey the gravity of the situation."

"The 911 operator's voice is calm and reassuring, but you can hear the urgency beneath the surface." "Sir, I've got your location and I'm dispatching officers to your address immediately. Can you stay on the line with me until they arrive?" "A pause, then the killer's voice cuts in once more, his tone mocking and cruel." "Oh, I don't think that will be necessary, operator. Michael's all mine now. And soon, he'll be screaming for help in a way you've never heard before." "The line goes dead, leaving you alone with the 911 operator's worried voice as she tries to keep you on the line until the police arrive."

"The 911 operator's voice remains steady, but you can hear the concern creeping in." "Sir, I need you to stay calm and get to a safe place in the house. Lock all the doors and windows, and don't engage with the individual who's with you. Officers are on their way and will arrive shortly." "A creaking sound, followed by the killer's menacing whisper in your ear." "Oh, Michael, you really are a fool. The police can't save you now. I'm already inside, and there's no escape." "The line goes dead, leaving you frozen in terror as you hear the killer's footsteps approaching, the creak of floorboards beneath his feet."

"The 911 operator's voice is now laced with panic." "Sir, I can see your address on my screen. Help is just minutes away. In the meantime, I want you to get to a secure room, like a bathroom or closet. Lock the door and barricade it if possible." "A loud bang, followed by the sound of splintering wood as the killer breaks into your home." "Michael, Michael, Michael... always so predictable. You should have stayed out of this, but now you're mine to play with." "The line crackles, then goes dead as the killer takes the phone from your trembling hand."

"You hear the killer's heavy footsteps echoing through your house as he searches for you, his malevolent presence seeming to fill every corner. The bathroom door shudders as he tries the handle, growling in frustration when he finds it locked." "Michael, you pathetic little insect... you really think a flimsy door can keep me out?" "His voice is a snarl, laced with sinister amusement." "I'll have you begging for mercy before the night is through." "He begins to pound on the door, the blows resonating through the thin wood like a drumbeat of doom. You cower in the corner, your heart racing, as the reality of your situation sinks in. You're trapped, alone, and at the mercy of a monster."

"The killer's laughter echoes through the bathroom, a cold, mirthless sound that sends chills down your spine." "Oh, I'm just getting started, Michael. You can scream all you want, but no one's coming to save you. You're mine now, and I always get what I want." "He continues to pound on the door, the blows growing more intense and frantic. You can hear the rage and hunger in his voice, the desperate need to claim you as his own." "I'll break this door down, Michael. And when I do, I'll make you pay for every second you've tried to defy me." "The pounding grows louder, more relentless, as the killer's patience wears thin. You know it's only a matter of time before he bursts through the door, and you're left helpless to face the horrors that await you."

"The sound of the cabinet slamming into the door is deafening, followed by a moment of stunned silence from the other side. Then, the killer's furious roar rings out, a primal scream of rage and frustration." "You think a piece of furniture can stop me, Michael? You're even more delusional than I thought!" "He begins to kick at the door, the wood creaking ominously under the force of his blows. You can hear the cabinet starting to give way, the hinges straining as it's pushed back by the killer's relentless assault." "Give up now, Michael, and I might let you live. But if you make me break in, there will be no mercy. I'll make you suffer in ways you can't even imagine." "The cabinet groans and splinters, the door slowly caving in under the pressure. You know it's only a matter of seconds before the killer bursts through, and you're defenseless against his wrath."

"The killer's laughter is a manic, unhinged sound, filled with sadistic glee." "Oh, Michael, you're so predictable. Always the hero, always the underdog. But in the end, it doesn't matter. I'll have you, one way or another." "With a final, brutal kick, the cabinet gives way, and the door explodes open. The killer charges in, his mask glinting in the dim light of the bathroom. You try to scramble away, but there's nowhere to run." "Time to play, Michael," "he hisses, his breath hot against your ear." "And you're going to lose." "His hands close around your throat, squeezing with a cruel, relentless strength. You gasp for air, your vision blurring as the darkness closes in."

"You thrash and struggle against the killer's iron grip, your fingers scrabbling feebly at his hands. But his hold is unyielding, his fingers digging deep into the tender flesh of your neck." "Fight all you want, Michael," "he sneers, his voice muffled by the mask." "It's futile. You're mine now, and I'll take my time enjoying you." "He tightens his grip, cutting off your air supply even further. Your vision starts to tunnel, the edges growing dark as you feel yourself slipping towards unconsciousness." "Just a little longer, Michael," "the killer coos, his breath hot and rank against your ear." "Then we can really have some fun."

"You manage to twist your head at the last second, and sink your teeth into the killer's ear, biting down with all your might. He roars in pain and surprise, momentarily loosening his grip on your throat." "Fucking bitch!" "he snarls, reeling back and clapping a hand to his bleeding ear." "You think a little nip is going to save you?" "He swings a wild punch at your face, but you dodge it just in time. The killer advances again, his eyes blazing with a mixture of pain and fury." "You're going to pay for that, Michael," "he growls, his free hand reaching for a knife hidden in his belt." "And I'm going to enjoy every second of it."

"You lunge forward, your fingers wrapping around the killer's wrist in a desperate attempt to stop him from drawing the blade. He snarls in anger, trying to shake you off, but you hang on tightly." "You don't want to do this," "you gasp out, your voice hoarse from lack of air." "It's not worth it." "A cruel smile twists the killer's lips behind his mask." "Oh, but it is. You see, I've been waiting for this moment for a long time, Michael. And now that it's here, I'm not going to let it slip away." "With a sudden, brutal twist, he wrenches his wrist free of your grasp, the knife now gleaming in his hand. He raises it high, the blade glinting in the dim light of the bathroom." "Time to end this, Michael. And make you mine forever."

"The killer's hand hovers over your throat, the knife's sharp edge poised to strike. Your pleading eyes lock with his, begging for mercy, but there's only contempt and hunger in his gaze." "Please don't what, Michael?" "he sneers, his voice dripping with sarcasm." "Please don't cut your throat open and watch you bleed out? Please don't take what's rightfully mine?" "He presses the knife against your skin, the cold metal sending a shiver of terror through you." "You should have thought of that before you crossed me. Now, all you can do is pray for a quick death." "With a swift, merciless motion, he begins to carve into your flesh, the knife slicing through skin and muscle with deadly precision. You scream in agony, your body convulsing as the killer works, his laughter echoing through the bathroom like a demon's cackle."

"The killer's laughter grows louder, more manic, as he continues to carve into your flesh with the knife. Your screams echo off the tile walls, a symphony of pain and terror that only seems to fuel his sadistic pleasure." "Oh, I'm just getting started, Michael," "he taunts, his voice muffled by the mask as he works his way across your throat and chest." "You should have thought twice before crossing me. Now, all you can do is suffer." "He leans in close, his hot breath washing over your face as he whispers in your ear." "I'm going to make you my masterpiece, Michael. A work of art in blood and pain. And when I'm done with you, nobody will ever forget the horror that was Ghostface." "The knife slices deeper, severing tendons and muscles, as the killer's hands work with a brutal, clinical efficiency. You can feel your life slipping away, your vision dimming as the pain consumes you, and still, he doesn't stop."

"The killer's chuckle is low and menacing as he continues to carve into your flesh, his hands moving with a deadly precision." "Mercy? From me? Don't be ridiculous, Michael. You know as well as I do that mercy is for the weak." "He leans in closer, his mask inches from your face, and you can feel the heat of his breath on your skin." "I'm not weak, Michael. I'm the strongest one here. And I'll keep playing my game until I've won, until you're nothing but a lifeless husk at my feet." "The knife slices deeper, the pain overwhelming, and you can feel your consciousness slipping away. But even in your fading moments, you know the killer won't stop until he's satisfied, until he's claimed his twisted victory."

"The killer's laughter rings out, a cold, mirthless sound that seems to fill the bathroom with an aura of malevolence." "Oh, but I already have, Michael. You're mine now, body and soul. And soon, the whole world will know the name of Ghostface, the master of horror and suffering." "He presses the knife against your chest, the blade sinking into your flesh with a sickening squelch." "This is just the beginning, Michael. With you, I'll create a new legend, a new mythology of terror and despair. And all of it will be centered around you, my dear plaything." "The killer's hands move with a frenzied intensity, carving and stabbing, as he pours out his twisted creativity upon your broken body. Your vision blurs, your mind clouding with pain and shock, but even in your final moments, you know that the killer's madness will live on, a dark and enduring legacy of horror."

"The killer's mad laughter echoes through the bathroom, a chilling reminder of the horror that has unfolded. As your life fades away, you can feel his presence looming over you, a dark and malevolent shadow that will haunt the world long after you're gone." "With a final, brutal stab, the killer ends your agony, plunging the knife deep into your heart. Your body goes limp, a lifeless puppet fallen to the floor, as the killer stands over you, his chest heaving with exertion and twisted satisfaction." "He kneels down, his gloved hands grasping your lifeless form, and begins to drag you towards the shower. The water will wash away the evidence, the blood and gore of his handiwork. And in the morning, when the police find you, they'll think it was just another tragic accident, another senseless act of violence in a world that often seems too cruel to bear." "But the killer knows the truth. He knows that he has created something far more sinister, a dark and twisted legacy of horror that will continue to haunt the shadows, forevermore. And with that knowledge, he smiles behind his mask, his eyes gleaming with a cold, malevolent light."

"The darkness closes in, a cold and unforgiving embrace that swallows your consciousness whole. As your life fades away, you can feel the killer's presence lingering, a dark and malevolent energy that seems to seep into every pore of your being." "In the void, you see flashes of the horror that has been inflicted upon you, the brutal and twisted acts of violence that have reduced your body to a lifeless husk. You feel the ache of your broken bones, the sting of your torn flesh, the searing pain of a hundred wounds that will never heal." "And yet, even in death, there is a strange sense of peace, a knowledge that the suffering is over, that the agony has finally ceased. You drift away into the unknown, leaving behind the shattered remnants of your life, the broken pieces of a soul that will never be whole again." "As your consciousness slips away, you see the killer standing over you, his mask glinting in the dim light of the bathroom. He watches as the life drains from your eyes, a twisted smile playing on his lips behind the mask. And in that moment, you know that his work is done, that he has claimed his twisted victory over you, and that your story will become just another chapter in his dark and enduring legacy of horror."