78Disclaimer: I still don't own Scream? Really? What's up with that?
Author's notes: Now, we stand at the end of our journey.
Chapter Twenty-Two: End Of An Age
Gale looked at the unmasked Ghostface, and everything fell into place.
Only you ever saw them and lived! she thought.
Fifteen Hours Prior To Billy's Call to Sidney
No, I'd never be a serial killer, would never be Ghostface. But… what if I was? What if they were reborn through me? The thought consumed me, though I had rejected it so strongly that it had formed a schism, a me who was unaware of me, and didn't even remember finding Roman's gifts, and a me who was thinking about taking him up on his wishes more and more. In time, it gave way to memories. From the day I had found Roman's last surprise, it had grown a little stronger. But after Jill and Charlie… it engulfed me. I would never escape Ghostface, so why not join him? Had any of them ever been wrong? Were they really so terrible, or were they seizing power and life? Had I been the naïve one this whole time?
Can't… can't sleep. But I wasn't trying to sleep, I was trying to wake up. More than one of me. How many more? I hear seven voices gently murmuring as they return… where are they coming back from?
William Loomis… Stuart Macher… Mickey Altieri… Deborah Loomis… Roman Bridger… Charles Walker… Jill Roberts… I hear them all. But they can't breathe, can't come all the way back yet, they still need life… and the anchors to their lives in this world are in their respective graves.
Have to get them out… they have to come back. If they don't, I can't have any peace. I've lived with you so long I can't even remember life without you.
The time passed in a blur, but I got all their bodies out, feeling each of them revive, their voice clearing and their personalities establishing as they were taken from the graves.
At last, I finished, reviving Jill, Charlie, Billy, and Stu in Woodsboro. I could see them around me, and they could see each other. Gratefully, I dissolved into their psyches, and Ghostface lived again.
They knew what I knew, knew to go into the basement and see what Sidney forgot-
Sidney didn't know, of course. She never noticed the time missing, never noticed things not adding up. The killers didn't have to find her; they never left.
When she was with Dewey in his final moments, Dewey had never seen anyone but Sidney- how could they have gotten so close? But it was indeed Charlie Walker that was with her, and Jill Roberts. Charlie's hand had reached into Sidney's purse, drew a knife, as Sidney walked behind Dewey, and slit his throat. Sidney had seen him and Jill doing it, her mind trying to make sense of what was happening while the three of them were together.
None of the Ghostfaces had noticed it, either. They were aware of each other, but unable to perceive themselves as anything but completely separate entities. They didn't realize how close to Sidney they always were. At every murder, no matter which soul made the kill, the victim only ever saw the face of Sidney Prescott.
On the night Sidney was at the Riley House, the same night that poor Kirby met her death, on one of her trips to the bathroom, Jill and Charlie woke up, and decided to slip out quickly to pay Kirby a visit. Everything she needed was still tucked into in her purse. The Father Death costume folded up wonderfully, something Debbie had learned years before. In a fugue-like state that no mind remembered, Sidney's body, under no particular direction, had adjusted the voice changers. They had come with more than passable imitations of Roman and Billy already on them, and working from memory, Stu, Mickey, Debbie, Jill, and Charlie had been added. While Charlie made the call and Jill snuck in, they had shared the same body. When Jill had unmasked, Kirby had seen the face of Sidney Prescott, had died seeing her visage.
The killers, transitioning between the two sections of the life they now shared, had rushed back to Gale's house, barely pausing to kill poor Henry on the way, who hadn't even seen anything odd about a woman hurrying through the night. It had been fast enough that Gale hadn't felt anything was strange about it.
The killers' meetings were purely in the realm of the mind. None of them knew that, could not be aware in the same way that Sidney could not allow herself to be aware of her missing time. No one ever noticed much. Gale was the only really possible witness, and she and Sidney both had been spending a good deal of time out of the other's sight.
Every kill had been done with Sidney's body. She could sneak out easily without Gale's knowing while transitioning into Ghostface, and leave as any number of the killers.
Debbie hadn't needed to break into the house, nor had Jill or Roman. They'd never come, and never left. Sidney's rape, as terrible as it was for her, was physically performed only by herself. When, as Jill, she had found Roman's last directive, she didn't remember it, only remembered it was something she prized, the key to the rebirth that Jill now enjoyed, and finding it now obsessed Jill. Jill's actual body was hidden where no one would ever find it, in the uppermost rafters of Sidney Prescott's house, along with the others, wrapped up air-tight so that the smell could not give Sidney a hint as to what was happening inside her.
In one sense, Jill, Billy, Stu, Mickey, Debbie, Roman, and Charlie were still dead, and had remained so this entire time. But in another sense, they functionally lived again, though only a half-life, sharing one body, and their personalities formed from Sidney's memories of them. It was still an immortality beyond what most had attained.
And when Debbie looked at Gale, slightly confused at her reaction, Gale was looking at Sidney.
"Sidney, how could you do this?" Gale asked in a voice barely above a whisper, hurt more by this apparent betrayal than the fact that she was 9/10ths dead.
Debbie's confusion only grew.
"Sidney?" She said mockingly. "Is this some last-ditch trick to live, Gale? Some desperate hope that I will turn my back and let you vanish?"
Now it was Gale's turn to be confused. She had expected a triumphant boast about how she was about to get away with it and blame it on the dead, but whoever it was under Sidney's face seemed genuinely unaware that it was her face. She was even speaking in Sidney's natural voice.
"Sidney, please," Gale desperately entreated. "You wouldn't let me die, would you?" Everything was going dim. If Gale was going to live, she needed help immediately.
Debbie sneered down at Gale. "No, I don't think Sidney would, the sweet little murderess. But I'm Debbie, and I have waited a long time to see you die, Gale, come back from Death's embrace just to see you and Sidney Dead-Whore-Mother-Cunt-Fucking-Asswipe Prescott die!"
Her patience with letting Gale die slowly on her own time broken, Debbie lunged forward, her knife hand poised, and sunk the blade into the back of Gale's neck. Gale twitched, and was still.
"Good riddance," Debbie said happily as she used her gloved fingers to wipe the blood off of the blade.
"Mom, good going!" a familiar voice exclaimed from behind her, on the first floor. Turning, Debbie saw Billy grinning that smile she loved so dearly back up at her. Everyone else was with him- Stu, Mickey, Roman, Charlie, even dear Jill was now back with them.
"Hey, how about we finally get to it, eh? Kill Sidney, and then, be free to do whatever we want?" Mickey asked, happier than he'd been since his very first kill.
As one, they approached Sidney's bedroom. Transitioning between, Debbie/Sidney had unlocked it on their way out. They entered her room.
A single scream rang out.
END
Author's Notes: Well, what do you think of that one, eh? I'm happy with it, especially the open ending. As to what really happened, I know, but I'll never tell.