"God, it’s about time someone fixed this franchise."

Amber Freeman. Horror super-fan, Stab purist, and, yeah, maybe a little obsessed—but can you blame me? I live in the house where it all started. Stu Macher’s house. The site of the most iconic horror finale of all time. So, of course, I get what Stab is supposed to be.

The sequels? Trash. Stab 8? An absolute disgrace. No Sidney Prescott? No meta-whodunit brilliance? Just some lazy reboot with a flamethrower-wielding Ghostface? Are you kidding me? The people in charge have no idea what real horror is anymore. But you know who does? Me. And Richie.

We understood what had to be done. A requel. A return to form. Real stakes. Real legacy. You can’t just make an iconic slasher movie—you have to live one. And what better way than to bring back the bloodline of Billy Loomis himself? Sam Carpenter—our perfect final girl turned killer. It was all so simple. Frame her, use her as the new Ghostface, and give the fans what they really wanted: a true connection to the past. Tara? She was just the emotional core, the one people would root for. And the others? Well… every good horror movie needs a body count.

But people always underestimate me. They think I’m just some obsessed fangirl with a Reddit account and a Ghostface fetish. But I’m the one writing the script. I get to decide how this ends. And trust me, it’s gonna end perfectly.

So, scream all you want. Run. Fight. But in the end?

This isn’t just a horror movie.

It’s mine."