Oh, God.

As you walk in, you can already smell all kinds of alcohol—raw and mixed—and the puke it causes, which hits and tickles your nostrils in the wrong way. People brush past you, chatting and clutching on their glasses. The atmosphere, to say the least, is disorienting. Inside the house, the music blasts so loudly you swear normal people would have a migraine in two minutes, so you proceed outside, where you notice some of your friends.

They linger in the distance, not noticing you quite yet. But who does, however, is Randy, who just appeared out of nowhere right next to you.

“Hey there, uh, thought you wouldn’t come,” he hoped—less trouble for their plans tonight.

“Yeah, what took you so long?” Derek joins you uninvited, getting a slight glare from the nerd, who, despite a hint of displeasure, doesn’t say anything against some additional company.

“Hi,” Derek then adds with a tiny smile.

“Anyways, I’d recommend you drink up, or else there will be nothing left soon.” Randy then flashes you with a quick wink.

Ever since he survived the Woodsboro murders, his personality has gained some traits known as “confidence” and, on some level, a flirt. Blame it on the one-year teenage transformation that happens to us when we become a whole new person in this mysteriously powerful gap, or the "love" scars he proudly carries on his body, but he was growing. And so was his obsession with horror.

So much that his sick mind suddenly decided that it wasn’t enough. That’s when Derek comes in. A mentor, a leader—bah! Randy could’ve managed it perfectly alone. The other guy was only a push, a pretty catalyst of his crush turned jealousy turned hatred. If Sidney only knew that two of the closest men in her life wanted her dead...

Oh, poor girl, truly. You, however, might have more chances to survive—if you play it right. Two predators standing on each side of you, and you're blissfully unaware.

“Yeah, that’s right,” Derek laughs—light, pleasant to the ear, and most importantly, normal. He slaps you on the back a bit too hard, thanks to his killer physique (pun intended), and Randy smirks a bit, despite his eyes staying grim.

“C’mon, let’s go party.” “While you still can,” adds the geek, and they exchange glances.