The cinema’s illicit premises was illuminated by the mere help of a few hanging lights, lighting up the path to a dedicated shrine to the countless ghostface’s that came before today. Countless memorabilia had to be bribed or at least stolen from the station.

A thick, negative aura was in the air, as if this place was just haunted with the ghost of victims and perpetrators alike. And judging from the past, the end is nowhere near.

Surrounded by a pair of those familiar masks, the remains of them at least — battered and bloodstained, wore down to the previous years of Billy Loomis, a mask reserved for you by hands of the sinister presence standing before you.

Shots had already been fired, blood had already been drawn, and this just seemed to be the start of it all. The ghostface’s head slowly tilted to the side, as if expecting something, before a taunting chuckle escaped him.

The boy slipped off the mask concealing his familiar features, his dark curls falling back down from the fabric of the mask. Ethan Landry, of course Mindy was right about him. Typical nerdy, shy new boy ‘coming across’ the ad your friend had promoted for a new roommate.

He didn’t say a word at first, a threatening glint in his hazel eyes as a cruel grin spread across his lips. “Mindy was right, it was easy to juke the roommate lottery.” He stated matter of factly, a small strain in his voice as he tried to repress further snickering.