Scream Reality

Drum and Bass music loudly burst out of enormous speakers as the lights flashed in a dizzying haze in the student union nightclub in the Stoke Campus of Staffordshire University. It was a Friday night, student night. It was the day of the week when all penniless young people flocked from their student accommodation to take advantage of ridiculously cheap alcohol. Hundreds of them were crammed into the minuscule hall dancing like raging lunatics. It was past midnight and yet the students were not about to leave. Closing time was still hours away and they would not dare to attempt to stagger home through the terribly cold December night until completely intoxicated. Despite the numerous insane dancers, there was one student who was not in the mood. She sat alone in her booth with a half empty glass of ice cold vodka and orange juice sitting on the beer stained table in front of her. Georgia Evans was always up for getting drunk and having a good time, but at that very moment she was feeling rather melancholy. She stared across the room at her friends as they wildly danced with her occupied blue eyes. She stroked her long blonde hair out of her eyes and took another sip of her drink. Georgia was currently in her first year at Staffordshire University where she was doing a degree in Biology and was nearly at the end of her first term, just being a week away from the end of her first term. When she first arrived in Stoke she had loved her rented room in halls and loved being completely independent from her family, but once lectures began she realised how difficult it was, so much more so than her A-Levels were which she had flourished in and the independency of University came back to bite her as she realised the University expected her to get on with her own work. They gave her very little support and she was finding it increasingly difficult to complete all pieces of work and meeting deadlines. She groaned, leaning back into her seat and rubbing her weary eyes. She was now over two hundred miles away from her hometown of Worthing and was lucky if she saw her family once every three months. She missed them more than she could bare and she did not know whether she could last another two and a half years of loneliness like she had been experiencing the past few weeks. She took another glance across at her friends and made her mind up. She picked her glass up and drained it before grabbing her leather jacket.

“Where are you going?” a voice asked behind her.

Georgia peered over her shoulder and saw her best friend standing behind her, her arms folded and a cheeky smile stretched across her face. Georgia had known Amy Mitchell since they were both eight years old and they had followed each other through life, they always did the same as each other, they went to the same parties, they had the same friends and they chose to go to the same University. The two of them were well and truly “best friends for life”. Georgia sighed as she pulled on her jacket over her hooded sweatshirt. She looked at Amy apologetically, “I’m not really feeling it tonight.”

Amy stared deep into her best friend’s eyes and instantly knew something was wrong. She quickly nodded before striding forward and picking up her coat and handbag.

“What are you doing?” Georgia demanded.

Amy looked up at her before smiling, “As if I’m going to let you go alone.”

“No,” Georgia told her, “Stay. Enjoy your night.”

Amy shrugged, “It’s shit here tonight. Let’s go.”

She strode away toward the exit. Georgia smiled, she knew that Amy was having fun, but had decided to leave because she had asked. Her heart lifted. That was the sort of friend she wanted to have around her for the rest of her life.

The two pushed the door opened and stepped outside, instantly regretting it. The air was like ice, freezing their lungs as they breathed it. Amy immediately crossed her arms and held them tightly to her chest.

“Fuck me it’s freezing!” she exclaimed.

Georgia zipped up her jacket and buried her hands in her pockets. Amy linked arms with her and they stepped forward, walking away from the bar, but still hearing the music as loudly as they would if they had not left.

“Did you talk to your parents?” Amy asked.

Georgia shook her head, “It’s too hard. When I talk to them I want to go home and not come back.”

Amy slowly nodded, “I know the feeling. I talk to my mum on Skype everyday and trust me. It really does help.”

Georgia nodded, knowing she would not follow the advice Amy had just given her, but they stopped and Amy looked directly at Georgia.

“Babe,” she smiled, “You’re not alone up here. You’ve got me. You’ve got the rest of the group. You don’t have to shut yourself off from the world.”

Slowly tears began to form in the corner of Georgia’s eyes as he face screwed up in sadness, “I feel so bloody lonely! I don’t know what to do!”

Amy pulled her into a tight hug and slowly rubbed her back, “Sweetie! It’ll all be okay. It’s only a week until you go back home anyway!”

“I know,” Georgia sobbed, “But I know if I go home I won’t come back!”

“Hey!” Amy interjected loudly, “Let’s leave that for future you to worry about. I saw the bottle of vodka you’ve been hiding in your room, so we’re going to go back to yours and get wasted! Deal?”

Georgia laughed, wiping away her tears. She nodded, “Deal.”

“Lesbian porn!” a voice yelled, “My favourite!”

The two women spun around and saw a good looking tall student striding toward them, his hands thrust into the pockets of his jeans as he was wrapped up tightly in his leather jacket. George Stokes had joined the University at the same time as them and lived in the same block as them and he had fallen madly in love with Amy who neglected to stop teasing him after he professed his feelings to her.

“What are you doing George?” Amy groaned.

He pointed at the incredibly loud nightclub before smiling at the females, “What do you think?”

“You’re killing your liver!” Amy mocked.

George winked, “You love it. Who’s in there?”

“The usual,” Amy shrugged.

“You coming in?”

She shook her head, “We’re calling it a night.”

“Oh grow a pair!” He laughed.

“Chill out bro,” Amy smiled as they walked past him.

“Will I see you tomorrow?” George called as they walked away.

“Doubt it!” Amy replied.

George grinned and walked away and through the open door of the club. The two women continued walking, but Georgia was staring at Amy in shock.

“What?” Amy asked.

“You like George!” she exclaimed.

“I do not like George!” Amy scoffed.

“You do! I saw the way you looked at him!”

“If you tell anyone I will kick your arse!” Amy warned.

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” Georgia said, trying to stifle her laughter.

A few seconds of silence passed before Georgia burst out into laughter.

“Do you want to go home on your own?!” Amy yelled.

Georgia shook her head and stopped laughing, blushing as she did, “Sorry. I think it’s sweet.”

“Not another word!”

Georgia had to continue stifling laughter as she pulled her keys out of her pocket and unlocked the door student halls. The lock clicked and she pushed the door open and the two women crossed the threshold into the warm corridor. Amy slammed the door shut behind them and shivered.

“Fuck me it’s cold out there!” she gasped.

Georgia rubbed her hands together and looked around, “Where is everyone?”

“It’s Friday remember,” Amy told her, “They’re all out drinking and we’re the only wankers left in!”

“You can go back if you want,” Georgia told her apologetically.

“I’m kidding,” Amy winked, “I’m out every bloody night anyway. It’ll be good to have a night in!”

They ascended the two flights of stairs to Georgia’s room and she once again got out her keys and unlocked the door, giving them entry. She turned the lights on. The room was a tiny cube with just enough room for a bed, a desk and her wardrobe.

“Don’t you just love living as a poor person?” Amy smiled.

“Couldn’t be happier,” Georgia lied.

Amy threw her bag down onto the floor and sat down upon Georgia’s bed and slowly reached beneath it, grabbing something. She pulled out Georgia’s hidden bottle of vodka and smiled as Georgia threw her keys down onto the desk.

“Vodka, pizza and romcoms?” she asked.

Georgia grinned, “Sounds good to me.”

“Well go make the pizza then!” Amy demanded.

“As if,” she scoffed, “This is my room! You do it!”

Amy slowly got to her feet, scowling at her best friend. She slowly walked toward the open door.

“You’d better not choose a shit film!” Amy warned as she exited.

“Pizza’s on my shelf in the fridge!” Georgia called.

She pulled two clean glasses out of the drawer of her desk and unscrewed the cap of the vodka bottle, pouring two big glasses of alcohol for the two of them. She set them down on the desk next to her keys and knelt beside her stack of DVDs which were piled against the wall. She scanned the titles before reading a movie title that made her heart skip a beat. It was a very old film starring Julia Roberts and Hugh Grant. It was called Notting Hill. Georgia had owned the films for most of her life and absolutely loved it. It was one of the first films she and Amy had watched together and for years it had become tradition to watch it whenever one of them was feeling upset so she felt it fitting that they should watch it. She pulled it out of the stack and switched on her laptop and typed in her password and the screen filled with bright colours as the Microsoft logo appeared. She opened the disk tray and opened the DVD case, but her mobile phone began to vibrate. She set the DVD down and pulled the smartphone out of her pocket and saw that whoever was calling her had withheld their number. She accepted the call and pressed the phone to her ear, “Hello?”

“Hello Georgia,” the caller greeted with his deep, menacing voice.

“Who is this?” she asked.

“I can be whoever you want me to be.”

Georgia frowned, “I’d rather just know who you are.”

“What if I don’t want to tell you?”

“Then I’ll hang up,” Georgia replied bluntly.

“But I thought we had chemistry,” the caller pleaded.

“I don’t think so mate.”

She took the phone away from her ear ready to hang up.

“WAIT!” the caller yelled.

She sighed, “What?”

“Don’t you want to know where Amy is?” he asked.

“I know where she is.”

“Are you sure about that? Open the case.”

“What case?” she asked.

“Notting Hill,” he grunted.

Georgia opened the case and looked down at the disk. The Notting Hill DVD had been by a plain disk with writing on it with marker pen. It read, “Watch me”.

“Put it in your laptop and watch it,” the caller instructed.

Georgia did as she was told and inserted the disk, waiting for it to load. The screen went black and all she could hear was whispering. She turned the volume up to the maximum, but the whispering was too quiet to hear. She leaned in closely, but suddenly there was a scream and a horrifically ugly demon appeared in the centre of the screen. Georgia leapt backward and fell onto the bed, her heart pounding. The caller laughed.

“Gotcha!”

“Who are you?” Georgia whimpered.

“That’s not the question I’d ask,” He growled, “I’d ask what I’ve done to Amy.”

Georgia dropped the phone and sprinted out of her room and toward the kitchen at the end of the corridor. She burst through the doorway, ready for the worst, but the kitchen was empty.

“Amy?” she called.

There was no answer. All she could hear was the sound of the oven on full blast and she saw the pizza from the fridge lying unopened on the work surface, but Amy was nowhere to be seen.

“Amy?” Georgia called.

Again there was no answer. She stepped forward, seeing Amy’s mobile phone sitting next to the pizza. She walked toward it, but her foot landed in liquid and she slipped. She tumbled backward onto the hard, tiled floor. She groaned in pain, but then felt something seeping into her clothes, soaking her back. She looked at the floor beneath her and saw that she was lying in a pool of red liquid. Blood. She quickly knelt up and clasped her hands to her mouth in shock. Then she looked at the oven door. Through the darkened glass she could see a shadowy outline, but could not tell what it was. It was certainly not pizza. She reached out and slowly grasped the handle with her bloodied fingers. With one swift movement she pulled the door open and what she saw made her feel sick. Amy’s severed head sat in the oven, being cooked by the oven. Her skin was boiling and burning like the finest crackling from a pig. Amy’s lifeless eyes stared up at Georgia. She screamed in horror and leapt to her feet, sprinting out of the kitchen. She leapt down the stairs, taking it two at a time before she reached the ground floor. She sprinted at the front door and tried to open it, but it was locked. Georgia swore and slammed her fists onto the door. She needed her keys. She crept back over to the staircase and peered up it. It was empty. She stopped panting and slowly made her way back up it to the open door of her room. She looked both ways down the corridor before hurrying inside. She ran over to the desk, but her keys were gone. Her heart was pounding faster than it ever had before. She looked up and saw her window and rushed over to it and tried to pull it open, but it was locked. She grabbed a stapler off her desk and threw it at the glass. It shattered, sending shards of glass everywhere. Georgia looked out of the window and saw the twenty foot drop onto the grassy courtyard. She gulped and slowly began to climb out, but she heard heavy footsteps behind her. Strong hands grabbed her shoulders. Georgia screamed and tried to fight off her attacker, but she slipped and fell from the window. She closed her eyes as she saw the ground rush toward her. There was a crack and her entire body seared with pain. She cried out and rolled onto her back, staring back up at the window. There was no sign of the attacker. Georgia looked at the main source of pain, her leg and cried out in shock. Her tibia and fibula had both snapped and were jotting out of the skin of her right leg. She suddenly felt light headed and fell back into the grass, her eyes blurring. She felt strong hands grab her shoulders again, but she could do nothing to fight them off as he dragged her across the grass and back through the open door to her halls building. He dragged her back up the stairs and dropped her on the floor off her room. She looked up at him and saw her attacker for the first time. He was dressed in black robes, black gloves and he was wearing a mask, a Ghostface mask. In his gloved hand he held a long, glistening buck knife.

“Please,” Georgia whispered, “Don’t kill me.”

The killer looked down at his knife and pocketed it once again. Georgia’s heart lifted, thinking he would let her live she smiled. She stopped as she saw him reach for the vodka bottle. He unscrewed the cap again and stood over her. She could tell whoever the killer was; he was smiling underneath the mask. He tilted the bottle and poured the clear liquid over the defenceless women as she cried out. He emptied the bottle and threw it to the ground where it smashed into dozens of jagged pieces. He pulled out a box of matches and Georgia’s skin began to crawl. He pulled one out of the box. She cried out, trying to crawl away from him, but the pain in her leg was two great. He struck it against the side of the box and the end of the match lit up with flame.

“No!” Georgia screamed, “Please don’t!”

The killer dropped the match. It hung in the air for a millisecond and then fell down onto Georgia’s chest. The vodka ignited and her whole body was engulfed in flame. She screamed as she writhed on the floor as the fire melted her skin. The killer watched with glee as she screamed and tried to move. But then she was still and silence echoed through the room. The killer turned and walked out of the room, leaving the body of Georgia Evans to roast on the floor of her bedroom.