Scream 1 Novels & Stories

“But what if someone comes…” “That’s the idea, silly,” she breathes. “No, I mean, what if someone else comes in…” “I’ll keep a look out,” offers Laura helpfully. “You can imagine I’m Scar Son if you like,” pleads Sandra, starting to squirm around on the bed, her hips writhing in sexual frustration while she fucks herself with two fingers inside her panties.

For a year of being an on-screen partner, we rose to fame as people loved to see our tandem. To be honest, I nearly puked when I saw the edits of the fan, misjudging the situation. "I see. The director is looking for you, Gaylene. Leina said that she wanted to talk to you first before the shoot. She’s in the waiting room. I think you can find your way, right?" "Yes, thank you for informing me, Stefan," Gaylene said, and she looked at me before she started walking. I didn’t bother to excuse myself and left Stefan alone there. I don’t want to act like we’re okay or what.

I tried to focus, but my body wasn’t responding. This wasn’t right. I reached up, my hands gripping warm skin. But something was wrong—wrong texture, wrong shape. A moan—high-pitched, too eager. Not Scarlet. The scent hit me again, familiar and sickening. Then, a scream, "WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON?!" A loud, piercing scream from the door. The blindfold was ripped off my face, and through my blurry vision, I saw her. Scarlet. Standing at the door, her eyes wide with horror.

The Banshee was awake. She stretched her hands wide, her fingers clawing at the air. She opened her mouth, and a sound came out that wasn't human. It wasn't even an animal. It was the sound of the end of the world. The Scream. I watched in horrific awe as the first three rows of soldiers simply stopped. Their skin turned grey. Their eyes turned to ash. Then, they began to dissolve, their bodies turning to fine dust that swirled away in the draft of the hallway. It was a scream of horror, a soul-ripping vibration that erased everything it touched. Molly screamed again, her face a mask of divine agony, until the hallway was a ghost town of empty suits and piles of dust.

This is where I die. As the wolves prepared to strike, I braced myself for the end. The forest seemed to hold its breath, the moonlight casting dancing shadows like specters. But just as the lead wolf lunged, everything shifted. The scene began to blur and fade. Scream, Morticia commanded. Scream like you did that night. I opened my mouth and let out a piercing scream—not of physical pain, but of pure, soul-deep anguish. The sound tore from my throat, raw and desperate, echoing through the vision until it shattered like glass.

I scream in panic as a deathly figure—just like the one that tried to rape me that night—appears behind the glass, hands outstretched, thick liquid dripping down his mouth. Don’t panic. He can’t get into the car, I tell myself. But I can’t stop my legs from shaking as the creature drags its fingers, screeching lines across the glass, smearing blood in wide arcs as it stares straight at me. “Look at me, golden one. Look. At. Me.” “Nooo!” I scream, pressing my hands to my ears as sweat trickles down my face. Where the hell is Don Rafaele? Matteo?

A beat of silence- Then- "AAAH-!" He screamed, clutching his face, blood pouring between his fingers. "You-!" His voice broke into a roar. "I'll kill you!" Scarlett walked toward him, unhurried. "Oh?" she said calmly. Her foot came down- CRACK- The sound was worse this time. A scream tore out of him, raw and uncontrolled. "Stop-!" Too late. She pressed down harder. Bone gave under pressure. Another scream. Louder. Desperate. She didn't rush.