Scream - A Novelization

[scream_4_me]

Hi there, I'm not sure if this is the right place to post this but my friend and fellow Scream fan Karl has written a novelization of Scream and wanted to share it with you. This is chapter one, bearing in mind he is an amateur writer and isn't proclaiming to be Stephen King! Lol
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CHAPTER ONE

The bright outer lights of the house illuminated the garden like a beacon from the moon, flickering hypnotically against the lapping ripples of the swimming pool. Inside, seventeen year old Casey Becker placed her hand on her hip and narrowed her eyes, her short blonde bob framing her delicate baby face. She smiled and began to walk with smooth, confident strides across the kitchen, which is where Steve was sitting comfortably on one of the counter stools. When she reached him he reached out and slipped his hands around the flat curves of her rump.
“Damn it girl, you look real sexy tonight.”
Casey felt herself blush. “Steve, don’t.” She smiled shyly and looked away, coy.
Steven Orith laughed. “You know you just got it going on.”
“I thought you were going to the video store?” she asked in a serious tone but her face gave away the demure of light-hearted humour.
“I think that I wanna watch you all night babe, not no stupid movie.”
Casey brought her delicate hands to Steve’s face. “First we watch the movie,” She smiled seductively and swivelled around, showing off her ass. “then you get the encore.”
His eyes lit up, flowing with liquid fashion over her entire body. He got to his feet. “You got it. Any preferences on the movie?”
“Something scary!” she said in devilish tones.
“What kinda scary?”
“A classic. One of those old school slasher deals.”
Steve kissed his girlfriend, full and flavoursome. “You got it baby.” He grabbed his jacket from the kitchen counter and exited out through the back door.


Casey shuddered at the sudden feeling of coldness that crept over her and she pulled the sleeves of her light pink cashmere sweater over her goose bumped arms. The temperature sure had dropped quickly. She reached into the cupboard and took out a jiffy pan of popcorn. Turning on the burner she set it down and went to the fridge to take out some beers. As she reached the fridge the phone began to ring. Shit, she hoped it wasn’t mom and dad calling to say they would be home early. They had said they would be out till gone two in the morning. Didn’t they ever trust her?
She picked up the phone. “Hello?”
“‘Hello?’” the raspy, almost chafe voice rang out clear.
“Yes?” Casey said.
“‘Who is this?’” the voice asked.
“This is Casey Becker. Who’s this?”
“‘I guess I rang the wrong number. I’m sorry about that.’”
Casey smiled. “Don’t worry about it. It happens to us all.” she giggled.
The voice chuckled back. “‘Well, I guess so. I’ll tell you what; now that I am through to you, how about we talk for a little while? Huh?’”
Casey sniggered, walking around with the cordless receiver. “I don’t think that would be a good idea.”
“‘Come on,’” the voice urged with suave character. “Just a little chat?”
Casey rolled her eyes. “No way. You can call 0-800 numbers for that. See ya.” She hung up the phone. She shook her head. What a nerve that guy has. A total stranger calls the wrong number and expects her to chat. I don’t think so. She went back into the kitchen. The foil dome lid of the popcorn pan was rising. It would be done in a little while. She could hear the incessant pop popping. She glanced at her watch. Steve must be arriving at the store by now. She was about to replace the phone on the hook when it started to ring again. She laughed. I bet Steve is ringing about which movie to bring back. She pressed the accept button. “Hello?”
“‘Why won’t you talk to me?’”
Casey gasped at the sound of the man’s voice once again. Geez, what was his problem?
“Who is this?” she demanded.
“‘Who do you think it is?’” the voice asked, slight attitude seeping through.
“Look, whoever you are, I don’t wanna talk to you.”
“‘Oh, you disappoint me.’”
That caught her attention. “And why is that?” she smirked.
“‘Well, I thought that a girl as cute as you would be more sociable and companionable.’”
Casey giggled, suddenly liking this guy’s flirty demeanour. She understood what this was now. It must be a guy from school who liked her. He must have rung to ask her out. “Hey, I’m the friendliest person you will ever meet. Cheeky.”
The voice gave a glossy drawl. “‘I guess I can understand your initial reservations. After all, some strange guy ringing you at night can be a little spooky. You might even say it is like something out of a horror movie.’”
“You read my mind Mr. Smooth Operator. I was just about to sit down and watch a scary movie.” She quickly hopped into the kitchen to check on the popcorn.
“‘Oh that is great. I love scary movies. Do you like scary movies?’”
“They’re my favourites.”
“‘So.... what’s your favourite scary movie?’”
“I don’t know. I like a lot of scary movies.” She switched the phone to her other hand and shook away the numbness.
“‘C’mon, you have to have a favourite. Choose one.’”
“I don’t know.....”
“‘Choose one....’”
“Err....” She couldn’t think off the top of her head. She was enjoying this guy’s flirty nature and the conversation appeared to be trailing off. “My fave is probably A Nightmare on Elm Street. Do you know it? The guy with knives on his hand.”
The voice laughed like honey. “‘Freddy Krueger! Yeah, I like that movie. It was a scary one.’”
“The first one was. After that they started to suck big time.”
“‘So... do you have a boyfriend at the moment?’” the twang of the voice’s question rang out.
Casey thought for a moment. Should she tell the guy on the phone that she was dating Steve? If he was from school, then surely he would know that she was going out with him. She thought for a moment before answering. “Why? Do you want to ask me out or something?”
The voice chuckled. “‘Umm.... maybe. Do you want me to ask you out?’”
Casey laughed girlishly. “Maybe.” she teased.
“‘So, do you have a boyfriend?’”
“Not right now, no.” She felt bad about lying; about denying Steve. But she just loved the attention. This guy obviously liked her.
“‘So, what did you say your name was?’”
“Why, do you want to ask me out personally?” Casey smirked, curling her lips.
“‘Because I want to know who I am looking at.’”
Casey’s mouth dropped. Jesus, did he just say who he was looking at? “What did you say?”
“‘I said I want to know who I am talking to.’”
A chill ran through Casey’s veins. “You didn’t say that.”
“‘What did you think I said Casey?’”
“Look, I have to go, okay?”
“‘Don’t hang up on me again Casey.’”
“Goodbye,” Casey clicked the disconnect button. She sighed and ran to the kitchen. The popcorn was almost finished. What did he mean when he said he wanted to know who he was looking at? Was he just an old perv trying to get his sick kicks? He couldn’t possibly see her, could he? The large modern house was out in the middle of nowhere, the nearest neighbours a mile away. Who would seriously come out –
The phone began to ring again. Her thoughts were broken and she sighed with frustration. What did he want? She pressed the accept button. With irritation in her tone she answered. “Hello?”
“‘I told you not to hang up on me’” the voice wasn’t humorous anymore. The tone, though the same, had changed somehow.
“What the hell do you want?” Casey asked.
“‘I want to talk to you.’”
“Well I don’t want to talk so do me a favour. Dial someone else and leave me alone.” She hung up. She stomped to the kitchen. The popcorn would –
Ring ring. The phone rang out once again. Now she was pissed off. Answering she brought the receiver to her mouth. “Listen you--”
The voice cut her off and now it was shouting; now it was angry and full of bitterness. “‘No, listen to me you bitch! You hang up on me again and I’ll cut you open like a fish.’” He laughed lightly when he heard Casey gasp and continued. “‘have I got your attention now, huh?’”
Casey felt the shaky emotion creep into her voice. Where was Steve? She walked down the hallway to the main phone set. “What do you want from me?”
“‘I want to see what your insides look like.’”
“Nooo!” She slammed the receiver down. She felt overwhelming sadness wash over her and she began to cry lightly. Who was this guy?
The phone rang again. For several seconds she let it ring before she answered. “What?”
The voice laughed. “‘Oh little cry baby. What’s the matter? You want your mommy?’”
“Look dipshit!” Casey hollered. “You better get off this line right now!”
“‘Why?’” The glossy tone challenged.
Casey felt the tears wash over her once more. “Because my boyfriend will be back soon.”
“‘Thought you said you didn’t have a boyfriend?’”
“Well I have,” Casey sobbed. “I got a boyfriend and when he gets his hands on you, he’ll kick the shit out of you cos he is big and strong and plays on the football team!” She choked back a blub. A line had been crossed. Now the friendly chat had developed into something more sinister and menacing and threatening.
“‘Oh I am sooo scared!’” the voice mocked. “‘Your boyfriend’s name is Steve, right?’”
Casey fell silent but the snivelling continued. “How do you know him? How do you know his name?”
“‘Go to the patio doors and turn on the lights.’”
“What?”
The voice barked, angry and baleful. “Do as I say you little bitch!”
Casey started to cry again. She went quickly to the patio doors, past the TV set. It glowed blue, ready for the movie to be put on. She quickly reached the windows, which ran from floor almost up to the ceiling. She gasped when the caller spoke.
“‘Now turn on the lights.’”
She opened her mouth but no sound came out. He must be able to see her. He must. Otherwise he would not know that she had got to the windows. She quickly fumbled for the light switch. Her fingers stumbled a few times before the lights blared out, exposing the vast garden. It took her a few moments to notice Steve. His was sitting in one of the large wooden patio chairs. His mouth was taped up and his hands were bound. His eyes blinked and he looked at her with desperation. Casey leapt for the door, screaming. “Steve, oh Steve!” She went to open the door but the man’s voice barked down the phone.
“‘Don’t you open that door! Just do as I say.’” Casey whined and took her hands away as if the door handle had been red hot. The voice laughed again. “‘Yes, you see, I want to play a little game with you or else Steve gets it. You ready to play Casey?’”
“What kind of game?” Casey blubbered.
“‘Oh its simple really. It is a game of movie trivia and your specialist subject is horror movies. All you have to do is answer a simple question. If you answer correctly then you and Steven will live. Answer wrong you DIE!’”
“Please don’t do this!” Casey pleaded. She smelt a burning scent and realised the popcorn must have caught fire.
“‘You don’t have to play but if you don’t, you pay with your life.’” the voice purred, like a cat.
“No! No, I will play! I will play!”
The caller laughed. “‘Good girl Casey, good girl. Now for your first question. You ready?’”
Casey crouched down beside the patio doors and reached to the nearby fireplace, grabbing a poker. “I’m ready.”
“‘Right, question one. Name the killer in the movie Halloween.’”
Casey sobbed. “I can’t.... do this.”
“‘Come on Casey, you told me you loved horror movies. Now come on, this is an easy one. The killer in Halloween; he stalked babysitters in a white mask. Come on!’”
Casey wept hard but tried her best to talk. Snot slid down her nose and she sniffed heavily. Eventually she got her words out. “The killer in Halloween was Michael Myers.”
“‘Yes!” the caller barked. “Very good. Now it is time for the real question.’”
“No, you said I had to answer a question. Just one question.”
“‘Do you want Steve to die?’”
“No!” Casey wailed.
“‘Then answer the fucking question!’”
Casey nodded, even though the caller could probably not see her hid behind the patio door curtains. “Okay.”
“‘Here is your final question. Who is the killer in the slasher movie Friday the 13th?’”
Casey leapt to her feet, shouting down the phone. “Jason! Jason Voorhees! Jason was the killer. He wore a hockey mask!”
The caller sniggered. “‘I’m sorry Casey, that is the wrong answer.’”
“No it fucking isn’t! The answer is Jason!”
“‘Sorry, you are wrong.’”
“No it ain’t! It was Jason. I saw that fucking movie twenty times for Christ sake!”
“‘Stupid bitch, if you have seen it so many times then you should know that the original killer in the Friday the 13th movies was Jason’s mother, Pamela Voorhees. Jason didn’t show up until Friday the 13th Part two.’”
“Goddamn bastard, you tricked me!”
“‘Very lucky for you there is a bonus round so you can redeem yourself.’”
Casey sighed with relief and began to cry with reprieve.
“‘But you got the last question wrong so that means poor old Steve is out of the game.’”
Casey panted breathlessly as she heard Steven’s muffled groans. She heard a squelching sound and she pulled a face. Leaping to the light switch she turned on the patio lights, highlighting the garden and Steve’s body, his throat now torn open via a large gash. Blood gushed down his front, staining his jacket. Casey let a vast scream escape her mouth as she saw her boyfriend’s head fall back limp, opening the awful wound. Her fingers stumbled on the phone and it clattered to the floor. She gulped in air and felt her legs grow weak, crumpling her body to the ground. She reached up and turned off the patio lights. She quickly snapped the lock and wrapped the curtain around her, bawling, tears streaming her rosy cheeks.
From the phone she heard the killer’s voice. It was just a mumble so she lifted it to her ear and listened.
“‘You still there Casey? Cos we have unfinished business.’”
“Please don’t hurt me.” Her voice was barely a whisper.
“‘Time for your question. Remember, this is to stay alive. You wouldn’t want to end up like Steve would you?’”
“Please... I just cannot do this! I won’t do this!”
“‘Well, thats your choice....’”
The glass of the patio doors exploded and everything around Casey shattered as a large heavy wooden chair was thrown through. Casey screamed and jumped to her feet, scurrying into the kitchen. The foil pan of the popcorn was now in flames and the smoke detector began to blare its alarm. She reached for the cutlery draw and pulled out a large bread knife. She struggled to breathe and held the weapon out in front of her.
Suddenly a cloaked figure sprang past the doorway that led into the living room. Casey gasped. She just had to get out of here. She turned and ran through into the dining room, hoping beyond hope that the killer would not be in there. He wasn’t. She crept across the floor to the dining room patio doors. Trying her best to be silent she quietly opened the doors and snuck out. She was at the back of the house. She tried not to look at Steve’s corpse. What she had to do now was get to the front of the house so she could get down the driveway and then she could run down the road to the nearest neighbours over a mile away.
Casey slid silently past the kitchen windows. Smoke was teeming out. The house would soon burn to the ground. But she did not care. All she wanted to do was get out of here. She reached the smashed in living room windows.
And she knew she had lost. The cloaked figure was standing there, looking directly at her. The killer wore a mask, concealing their face. The mask was a soft white rubber. The eyes, nose and mouth of the mask looked stretched and drawn, giving an effect of a ghost face. At first the killer did not move but then the form leapt forward and Casey screamed, running into the large garden. The killer was hot on her heels, the large hunting knife grasped in the gloved hand. Casey felt a slashing motion as the blade missed her back by inches. She ran as fast as her legs – and her bare feet – would allow. She felt a loose stone underfoot and cried at the pain, blighting her ankle. She lost her balance and fell to the ground, on her back. She had no time to react. The killer raised the knife high. It seemed to Casey that the attacker hesitated for a few seconds. But that did not stop them and the person descended the blade, sinking it halfway into her throat, severing the windpipe. The killer just kept stabbing and stabbing into her chest. Casey Becker could not comprehend the agony as the knife pierced over and over. With her last ounce of strength she lifted her left arm and grasped the mask, pulling it off from under the hood of the cloaked costume. With her dying eyes the last thing she saw was the killer’s face staring down at her.

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So that is the first chapter. Karl made a few subtle changes from the movie, as you probably noticed, such a Steve's death by throat cutting and some of the lines spoken by both Casey and the killer. Any feedback will be passed on to him. Thanks.