Disclaimer: I do not own Scream; this is merely a fan fiction.

OPEN ON:

EXT. CARFAX HOTEL – OUTSKIRTS OF WOODSBORO – NIGHT

The hotel is an old former mansion, deep in the outskirts of town. Looks haunted, reminiscent of the Adams Family house. The bubbling of water from a fountain is the only sound that can be heard for miles.

INT. HOTEL LOBBY – NIGHT

The lobby is much more picturesque than the outside. Marble floors, glass chandeliers – it looks fabulous.

It's also dead. The only sound, again, is a fountain in the lobby and a flat screen tv hanging over a fireplace. The tv is playing some soap opera. Cabinets upon cabinets of antiques line the walls.

VERONICA TATE – 17, cheerful, redhead with green eyes, sits at a desk, bored. She's on her cell phone playing an online game. Her manager, MR. NORMAN – fat, balding, highly stressed out, stumbles into the lobby.

MR. NORMAN: Veronica – hey, I have to leave for the night. My mother had another fall, this time it may be her hip! Can you buckle the place down for tonight?

VERONICA: Sure thing, Mr. Norman.

MR. NORMAN: I'm sorry to do this, I know you've never closed before and you're under 18 and -.

VERONICA: Mr. Norman – we haven't had a customer in the past three days. No sign of anyone tonight. I got this.

He nods gratefully, relief on his face, wiping his balding head with a handkerchief.

MR. NORMAN: I really owe you – you'll have something special in your paycheck, I promise. (shrugs) And besides – Brian should be around here somewhere …

VERONICA: Eh, you know him. Fiddling around in the basement – I might as well be working alone tonight.

Mr. Norman laughs.

MR. NORMAN: Well, keep an eye on him, I've already had to dock his pay for breaking that cupid statue last month helping a customer with luggage.

He waves goodbye and vanishes through the door.

Veronica is alone in the lobby again. She waits a moment, then opens her phone and begins sending at text.

We're finally alone.

She smiles.

Her phone vibrates. Brian sent a response text. Nice … meet me in the vacant suite on the third floor?

Sounds good.

Smirking, she gets up and makes sure the coast is clear. She turns off the television, before going to the front doors. She spins the OPEN sign to CLOSED and dims the lights. Humming, she turns back to the lobby –

THE LOBBY PHONE RINGS!

She sighs. There goes that. She texts Brian. Give me a few minutes.

Annoyed but remaining polite, she returns behind the counter and answers the phone.

VERONICA: Carfax Hotel, how may I help you?

GHOSTFACE: There wouldn't happen to be any rooms available tonight, would there?

(Beat)

VERONICA: Several in fact. Going rate is $39.00, includes free cable, WiFi and a continental breakfast.

GHOSTFACE: Why so many vacancies?

VERONICA: Not many people coming to Woodsboro … what with those murders and all.

GHOSTFACE: What about the journalists? Aren't they covering the murders? I'd think the town would be packed, what with the Netflix special airing.

VERONICA: Yeah, well, all the networks gave them fancy accommodations at Five-Star joints outside of town.

GHOSTFACE: Business must be hurting.

VERONICA: (getting up, dusting down a statue) It is, but we still get by. And I enjoy the downtime. Less customers, less headache. (Beat) Can I book you a room?

GHOSTFACE: Sure. How about the vacant suite on the third floor?

The soundtrack THUDS.

VERONICA: (clearly shaken) W-which room did you want?

GHOSTFACE: You sound nervous – was it something I said?

VERONICA: Uh … you know, I think I made a mistake … on second thought … we actually are booked tonight …

GHOSTFACE: Oh? An error in your computer system?

VERONICA: Something like that – goodbye.

She slams the phone down, staring at it.

VERONICA: (to herself) Weirdo.

CUT TO:

CARFAX HOTEL – THIRD FLOOR CORRIDOR – NIGHT

BRIAN ORTH – college aged student, 18 years old … he looks somewhat familiar. Brother of STEVEN ORTH, a student at Woodsboro High.

Brian looks left and right, then shimmy's a key into a vacant suite. He enters, closing the door behind him, turning on the light. He opens a fridge in the private bar, helps himself to a drink. He reclines himself on a bed, opening his shirt to reveal a chest which has, maybe at most, two chest hairs. Brian, however, prides himself on being a manly man.

He pulls out his phone, takes a crotch shot and sends it to Veronica with a text: Getting impatient.

A THUD COMES FROM THE BATHROOM!

Brian shoots upright in the bed.

BRIAN: - the hell?

He sets his drink down on a drawer and slowly walks towards the bathroom. The soundtrack is thudding. He walks up to the door, fingers tracing the doorknob.

He swings the door open.

There's nothing there. The bathroom is silent – except for a running sink faucet. He steps up to the faucet, grimacing, and shuts the water flow off. Behind him, we can make out the form of a figure in black, standing behind the shower curtain.

Brian checks himself out in the mirror. The figure in black remains behind him, unmoving.

Brian shrugs, satisfied … he hears a THUD again - this time behind him. He whirls around, for the first time noticing the black outline behind the shower curtain.

BRIAN: Who's there?! I'm fucking armed so you better come out right now!

No movement. No response.

Brian reaches into his jeans pocket and pulls out a switchblade.

BRIAN: Fine – we do this the hard way.

He steps toward the shower, his fingers wrap around the curtain. The figure remains unmoving. Brian takes a breath, raises his knife – and WRENCHES the curtain open!

GHOSTFACE IS THERE, FRONT AND CENTER!

Brian shrieks and plunges his blade into the killer's chest. Ghostface crumples backwards unnaturally, his head falling off, his arms popping out of their sockets.

Brian blinks, dumbly, confused. He looks down.

It wasn't Ghostface at all – it was a mannequin in a Ghostface costume.

BRIAN: Thought we got rid of that thing. (catches on) Oh, very funny Veronica! Ha ha.

He kneels down, trying to reassemble the mannequin. He picks up the Ghostface mask, staring down at it. It stares back.

BRIAN: You? Scary? What a joke!

He chucks the mask across the bathroom like a frisbee.

INT. SUITE – NIGHT

Brian is still chuckling to himself as he emerges into the suite's living room.

BRIAN: You can come out now, Veronica! You scared the crap out of me, I'll admit, but I can think of at least a dozen ways you can make it up to me.

His eyes scan the suite.

BRIAN: Veronica?

SOMETHING CRASHES INTO HIM! HE JUMPS PRACTICALLY OUT OF HIS SKIN!

Veronica is standing there, jumpy herself.

BRIAN: Warn a person!

VERONICA: Sorry, sorry.

BRIAN: Great prank, by the way.

VERONICA: Prank?

BRIAN: Planting a mannequin in a ghost costume in the bath … especially with those murders going on. Cute.

VERONICA: I didn't … (realizing) Oh, I get it. You prank called me earlier, didn't you? How about the vacant suite on the third floor? Should've known it was you.

BRIAN: Prank call?

VERONICA: Forget it, I forgive you. (Bites her lip) Now you were saying something about making something up to each other?

Brian likes where this is going. He wraps his arms around her, his hands going lower down her back. They stare into each other's eyes …

THE LIGHTS GO OUT!

They both scream!

There's a whirring sound, and the emergency system springs into action, activating the emergency generator, bathing them in the emergency red warning lights.

Brian grits his teeth.

BRIAN: I just fixed the damned lighting system!

VERONICA: Well, if you fixed it once, you can fix it again, can't you?

BRIAN: We can still have fun in these lights.

Veronica stares at him.

BRIAN: (pleading) Come on, can't the hotel's power generator wait?

VERONICA: (eyebrow raised) Can't yours?

BRIAN: Damn it, fine!

He grabs his phone. Veronica lays out tantalizingly on the bed, bathed in the red emergency lights.

VERONICA: You'll have something to look forward to when you're finished …

He grins, nodding, before leaving the room.

INT. HOTEL – BASEMENT – NIGHT

The red emergency lights bathe the hotel's basement as well. Brian pulls open a circuit-breaker and begins fiddling with it.

Sparks fly out, singing his fingers. He curses. He continues working, humming to himself …

BRIAN: Red wire goes there … blue wire there … and let there be light!

He backs away, pleased with himself. The lights whir on … then sputter and fail, bathing him once again in a blood red light.

BRIAN: (frustrated) Okay … we'll have to deal with this at its source.

He turns and begins walking across the vast basement to the generators in the rear. He passes shelves of stock, linen sheets, pillowcases. He reaches the other side of the basement and kneels down next to the generator.

THUD!

It comes from behind him.

He jumps up, cell in his hand as a flashlight.

Ghostface is standing at the end of the rows of shelving. Unmoving, arm raised unnaturally, holding a knife.

BRIAN: Stupid mannequin. (Shouting) VERY FUNNY VERONICA!

He turns and begins working on the generator.

CUT TO:

INT. THIRD FLOOR SUITE – NIGHT

Veronica is still lying in bed, checking out her Instagram.

VMMM!

A text message. Unknown number. No – not a text – a video message. Eyebrows raised, Veronica presses open.

IT'S A LIVESTREAM – IN THE BASEMENT – BRIAN HAS HIS BACK TO THE RECORDER, WORKING ON A POWER GENERATOR! The feed cuts out.

Veronica's hand covers her mouth, her eyes wide open.

VMMM!

Her phone vibrates again. And again. The soundtrack thuds. Incoming call. She answers.

GHOSTFACE: I take it the third-floor suite is no longer available?

VERONICA: Who the FUCK is this?!

GHOSTFACE: I'm the one asking the questions here! So tell me, Veronica – do you want Brian to live – OR DIE?!

VERONICA: I'm calling the police.

GHOSTFACE: Oh, as they're running themselves ragged searching for Sidney Prescott after Cotton Weary was just found char-broiled? They'll never make it in time. Face it Veronica – You're just. Not. A priority.

VERONICA: Why are you doing this?

GHOSTFACE: Ah, now we're getting to the POINT! Suffice it to say that you and I are not so different. You're a viper, Veronica. Poisoning the lives of everyone around you, ruining them, driving them to desperate actions!

VERONICA: Is that what this is about? I apologized! I've gone through HELL over what happened! I've suffered enough!

GHOSTFACE: No. Not yet. But you never answered my question – what shall I do with Brian? His life depends on you, Veronica. I'm giving him the chance that you never afforded to others. Confess. Confess your sins and he LIVES!

VERONICA: I – what do you –

GHOSTFACE: ADMIT TO ME WHAT YOU ARE!

VERONICA: I … I'm a life-ruiner …

GHOSTFACE: You need to be more convincing than that! Come on now, Veronica – with GUSTO!

VERONICA: I'm sorry! Okay?! I don't know what else to say! I didn't mean for it to happen – please, we don't deserve –

GHOSTFACE: Well now – that was much better. You almost had me convinced -.

VERONICA: Please … just let us go …

GHOSTFACE: I said almost.

The line cuts out and Veronica screams.

CUT TO:

INT. BASEMENT – NIGHT

Brian stands up, scratching his head, holding a wrench.

BRIAN: Almost there …

He glances over his shoulder – the mannequin is gone. He cocks his head, confused. Wasn't it …? He shrugs, turning –

GHOSTFACE IS RIGHT THERE, FRONT AND CENTER.

BRIAN: Oh shit!

He falls backwards onto his back.

He stares up at the mask, breathing. The figure isn't moving.

BRIAN: (standing up) Stupid mannequin.

He looks over his shoulder – ANOTHER GHOSTFACE IS STANDING AT THE OTHER SIDE OF THE BASEMENT. He squints his eyes. The second Ghostface's head falls off – it was the mannequin.

The Ghostface next to him COMES ALIVE – this is the real thing! A black gloved hand grabs Brian, slamming him into the generator. Brian's arm flails – his wrench connects with an outlet. Electricity surges through his body, turning him into a living battery. The lights in the basement go on full blast.

Ghostface steps back, cocking his head as Brian writhes, watching the unfortunate boy be fried alive.

Brian's smoking corpse falls to the ground. The power surges again, dimming the entire hotel back into the red emergency lights.

CUT TO:

INT. THIRD FLOOR SUITE – NIGHT

Veronica is screaming. A new video has been sent to her. She screams as she watches Brian writhing on the generator. In the video, the killer looks up at the camera … then vanishes offscreen.

Oh crap.

Veronica rushes through the doors of the suite.

CUT TO:

INT. HOTEL HALLWAY – NIGHT

Veronica is racing down the hallway, phone to her ear.

OPERATOR: 9-11, what is your emergency?!

VERONICA: There's been a murder! Carfax Hotel – please hurry!

OPERATOR: Stay on the line with me – find somewhere safe to hide!

She races to an elevator, pressing the LOBBY button. The elevator begins descending from the fifth floor.

VERONICA: Come on, come on!

OPERATOR: Miss, what is your status?!

VERONICA: I'm waiting for an elevator, come on!

The elevator doors slide open. She glances up in relief.

GHOSTFACE is standing in the elevator. He raises an arm, slugs his knife into her gut. She screams, dropping her phone.

OPERATOR: Miss! Miss!

Ghostface stomps down on her phone, smashing it to pieces, silencing the Operator. Veronica holds her wound, backing away. She stumbles to the right into a stairwell, limping down the stairs.

Ghostface takes his time. He's toying with her.

She reaches a landing on the second floor looks up – Ghostface appears at the top of the stairs, holding his knife up, cocking his head curiously.

Gritting her teeth, Veronica limps down the stairs, reaching the lobby. She races past the fountain, leaving a trail of blood.

THE EXIT IS BLOCKED BY A CABINET FILLED WITH ANTIQUES!

Veronica curses, looking around, looking for an emergency exit.

The lobby phone RINGS!

Veronica jumps, screaming and crying. The phone continues ringing. She knows who this is. She picks up the receiver.

VERONICA: I'M SORRY, OKAY! I AM! I DIDN'T MEAN FOR IT TO HAPPEN! PLEASE!

Ghostface: Turn on the television in the lobby.

VERONICA: What?

GHOSTFACE: Do it … or I'll start SLICING!

Veronica grabs the remote and shakily raises it, turning on the flat screen tv. A news announcement is in place. A reporter is standing outside of the COTTON WEARY FARMHOUSE, cop cars everywhere, people being led out in stretchers.

REPORTER: … and we have confirmed that there are in fact four survivors. The parents have given us permission to reveal their identities. Billy Loomis, Tatum Riley, Deputy Dwight Riley and renowned journalist, Gale Weathers. At this time the police have also confirmed the identities of the killers. Cotton Weary and Sidney Prescott. I'm told that both are now deceased, I repeat, the killers have been revealed to be Sidney Prescott and Cotton Weary. Further details …

GHOSTFACE: This is the best part, Veronica. You're going to love this. Two teens, called and killed in a gruesome fashion – the same night that Sidney Prescott and Cotton Weary go on their massacre. The cops will think it's all part of the same killing spree … they'll blame Sidney and Cotton for your deaths, never dream it was someone else … and I … I'll just go on, walk away, scott-free, the world none the wiser …

VERONICA: Please … I'm begging you …

GHOSTFACE: You were begged too. Pleaded with to stop. And did you?

VERONICA: (weak) … please …

GHOSTFACE: DID YOU?!

VERONICA: Forgive me … please … I'm sorry … just forgive me …

The line has gone dead. She looks around – the room is silent, not even the fountain can be heard. It's dead silent, the waters no longer running. She eyes an EMERGENCY exit sign past the fountain, limps towards it –

GHOSTFACE BURSTS FROM THE FOUNTAIN, TACKLING HER TO THE GROUND!

She struggles. He straddles her, pinning her down by the throat. He holds a voice changer to his mask.

GHOSTFACE: Forgiveness is for the afterlife!

Veronica's eyes widen as Ghostface raises his arm … and the knife PLUNGES!

The title screen slices into view:

SCREAMMAKE 2