Scream 3 [✓]

Chapter 1

"Good morning Hollywood. And today officially starts the Summer movie season. Opening the box office this week is Jeff Bridges and Tim Robins in Arlington Street, Eugene Levy and Tori Spelling in STAB 2, based off my best selling book 'The Windsor Murders'."

Gale Weathers, the flashy 32 year-old news anchor and author of the Woodsboro Murders, was sitting behind a desk on a really ditzy and loud set for Total Entertainment, an ET style program with a live studio audience.

Many of them were dressed as Ghostfaces; a sea of white screaming faces, eerie and unsettling.

"I see a lot of the audience has dressed to the occasion. Today we have director of the upcoming STAB 3: Return To Woodsboro, Roman Bridger. Why don't we give Mr. Bridger a nice welcome to the set of TE?"

The crowd went wild with applause as Roman, a ravishingly handsome 29-year-old, fluidly entered the stage, dressed in a flashy white suit.

He sat down on a chair beside Gale's desk, placing a STAB 3 coffee mug next to her hand. "Good morning, Gale. Pleasure to be here."

"It's a pleasure to finally meet you, Roman," Gale greeted with a fake smile, folding her hands on the table in front of her.

Roman leaned back confidently in his chair. "Well it's an honor to be here amongst so many fans of the genre. And I must say that any of you worried that some of the characters not returning to complete the STAB trilogy, have no fear. I believe we're going to pull off one of the best Stabs yet."

Gale tried her best not to cringe, perfectly keeping up her interested charade. "Roman, from your enthusiasm it certainly seems that way. Honestly though, tell us. What's your favourite scary movie?"

The male rolled his shoulders, exhaling a harsh breath."Honestly, my life."

"Your life?" Gale repeated dully.

"Well if you were in my shoes, dealing with those big Time Sunrise Studio producers like I do on a daily basis, you'd watch how quick your life goes from a Walt Disney picture to a Tobe Hooper flick."

The true costumed horror film freaks in the audience broke into applause.

Gale, somewhat distracted and not in the least bit caring about what this second-rate director had to say, gazed at one costumed individual in particular at the far corner of the set, who was watching from a half open exit door.

It could be just her imagination running away with her, but it almost appeared as if the figure was pantomiming slitting his throat with a gleaming blade.

*Buzz*

A loud buzzing pulled her out of her reverie as she looked up at a sign hanging over the stage, where the words 'COMMERCIAL BREAK' were illuminated in a flashing, red light.

After letting out an exasperated sigh, she gazed back to the exit where the figure was now gone.

Turning back to Roman, she spoke with a tight-lipped smile. "Would you excuse me for a moment?"

Roman lifted his eyebrow and nodded. "Sure."

Gale got up and raced around the corner of the set, only to smash right into an extremely handsome cop in his mid 30s with piercing eyes, who grabbed her by the shoulders and shepherded her aside.

Her arms remained at her sides as she whisper-yelled. "Jesus Christ, you scared the shit out of me."

"I'm sorry, Miss Weathers. Allow me to introduce myself. Mark Kincaid, L.A.P.D," he flashed her his badge. "I'm sure you are familiar with Cotton Weary, or the actress Christine Perkins?"