Rebbeca Kelerman opens up the CD case in her hand and pops it into the player, smiling as the first strains of her favorite song come out. The TV is babbling away in another room, and Rebbeca picks up a pile of magazines that had been set on the rug. She's a short girl, with shoulder length red hair and a small,faded birthmark on her right cheek.She's wearing an old green t-shirt and black jeans, as well as a pair of hefty combat boots.

The phone rings from somewhere in the house, and she grimaces, setting the magazines down on the floor again. She then jogs up the spiral staircase to a heavy oak door, which she pushes open and enters through. The room is what appears to be some sort of study, with a laquered desk and a overstuffed black leather chair. The lighting is dim, coming from the sole lamp in the room, which is situated on the desk top, its green shade casting an odd color on everything in reach.

Grabbing the old-fashioned dial phone, she puts it to her ear.

"Hello?"

Silence. There is a faint click as the caller hangs up, and Rebbeca shrugs, setting the phone back down. As she is half-way out the door, the phone rings again. Sighing, she goes back and picks it up.

"Hello?" she says again, sounding a little impatient.

There was silence for a while, and she is about to hang up again, until a voice finally comes over the line.

"Hello." The voice is deep and male, unfamiliar.Though Rebbeca does not recognise the voice, she stays on the line.

"Hi" She smiles. "Did you hang up on me just now?"

Silence. "Yes. I'm sorry."

"Well, if you're sorry, why'd you do it in the first place?"

"Because. I didn't think I had the right number." The voice has a teasing tone to it, and Rebbeca, seeing as how she has no big plans for the night, smiles again.

"Okay. So. . .DO you have the right number?"

There was silence. "You tell me."

Rebbeca chuckled. "Well, who do you want to talk to?"

"Whoever will listen."

She stares at the phone, an eyebrow raised.

"Will you listen to me?"

"Well,that depends," Rebbeca says, easing herself up onto the desk."

What do you want to talk about?"

"You."

Again she pauses,and then laughes. " Really? I'm not very interesting." Getting into the game, she smiles. "What do you want to know about me?"

" It's Saturday night. Why are you home? A nice girl like you should be out with a date."

"Sorry, I didn't have a date tonight. Most boys I know are pretty superficial, and I'm not exactly the pretty type." Rebbeca says, rolling a pencil back and forth on the desk as she talks.

"I think you're pretty."

She freezes, the pencil rolling off the edge of the desk ( a short torrent of scary music ensues).

"How do you know what I look like?"

"I don't. I'm just guessing. What are you doing?"

Rebbeca relaxes slightly. " Nothing. Why?"

"Would you be interested in participating in a little game?"

Beggening to become a bit curious, Rebbeca hops off the desk and grabs the pencil off the grey carpet. "And why would I want to do that?"

"Because it's better than spending a night alone, isn't it?"

Rebbeca stops short. " Alone? How would you know that I'm alone?"

"You said so."

" That's not what I said!" Rebbeca's voice is trembling. " I never said I was alone!"

"Lucky guess."

Frightened, Rebbeca slams the phone down, and quickly leaves the room, looking out every window she passes in the hall. Darkness has set in outside, and everything appears normal. Walking down the stairs, she runs to the door and locks it. Giving one final look out the window, she shakes her head and pulls the curtains shut.

"Loser," she mutters, and starts to leave.The noise of the phone ringing strikes her ears (more scary music). Gritting her teeth, Rebbeca runs up the stairs, walks into the study, and grabs the phone.

"Yes?!"

"Why did you hang up on me?"

"Look, I don't know who you are, but I don't want to talk,okay?! So stop calling me!"

"Don't hang up on me---"

"Oh, please, I've seen "Stab", okay? I know the drill. Next time try something a little more original." Slamming the phone down, Rebbeca begins to leave. It immediatly starts ringing again, and she leans against the wall, trying desperatly to ignore the noise. After about fourteen rings, she grabs it and screams into the phone,

"I've had enough of this, all right, so---"

"I think you're a little confused, Rebbeca," the voice says coldly, "I'M the one giving the orders here, got it? You're going to do as I say for a while."

"Make me." Rebbeca yells, and moments later, the sound of glass shattering comes from below. She screams in shock, and throws herself at the door, slamming it closed and locking it. Finally, out of breath and sobbing, she slowly raises the phone to her ear again.

"How. . .did you do that?"

"You seem like a smart girl, Rebbeca. You figure it out."

"How do you know my name?" she whispers, tears running down her cheeks as she sinks to her knees.

"That's not really important. What's important is the game that we're going to play. Oh, and Rebbeca? I wouldn't recommmend hanging up on me again."

"I won't."

"Good. Now, I think you're ready for a little challenge. Do you like scary movies, Rebbeca?"

Covering her face with her hands, she finally manages to speak.

"Yes."

The voice chuckles. "I thought you might. You see, scary movies are more than just actors playing out some script. . .they epitomize life.They show that you can never totally know a person. That you really can't tell the difference between the pyscho killer, and the sane person when they're wearing their masks. And we all wear masks, don't we, Rebbeca? In different ways, of course, but yes," The voice chuckles, "we all wear them. Don't you think so?"

"I. . .I don't know what you're talking about. . ." Rebbeca whispers in a horrified tone, clutching the phone cord in her hand.

" Sure you do. You were wearing a mask when you answered the phone. You pretended to be someone happy, someone popular and satisfied with their life. But how could you be? Someone with a birthmark like that. . ." The person clucked his tongue." After all, how could anyone with a horrible disfigurement ever hope to be satisfied. . .?"

"Shut UP! Just shut up!" She screams into the phone, pounding her fist on the floor as she sobbed. "Don't you talk about me like that, don't you DARE---"

"As a matter of fact, Rebbeca," the voice continues, as if she had never spoken, "you must be very bitter about how your life has gone on. Watching all the pretty girls get the guys, while you sit at home alone. You'd be the prime candidate for psychological problems. . .ARE you a psycho, Becky?

" Damn you! YOU'RE the psycho, not me!" she sobbs hysterically.

The voice begins to get harsh and threatening. " It's time to play the game, Rebbeca."

" What game?!"

"Oh, don't tell me you've forgotten the game already? I'd say that in itself is worth a penalty."

" What are you talk. . ." Rebbeca begins but whirls to face the door as a noise comes from below. With a shriek, she turns back and grasps the phone tightly, eyes wide.

"Oh, God, what are you DOING?!"

"It's very simple, Rebbeca. Every time you get an answer wrong, then you get a penalty. If you win the game, then I'll leave. If you loose," The voice pauses, " Then you die."

"Oh, God, no, please don't---"

"We're going to start, Rebbeca!" the voice said sharply. "You said you like scary movies. So do I. If you like them as much as you claim, then you'll know the answers to the questions."

Rebbeca is silent, looking desperatly around the room for a weapon.

"I'll give you an easy one to start off with. How is Freddy Kreuger 'destroyed' in the first 'Nightmare On Elm Street' movie?"

Rebbeca stares at the floor, her mind racing. "I. . .I don't know. . ."

"Rebbeca. . ." More noises come as someone starts climbing the stairs outside the door.

"No! I'm sorry, I'm sorry, please! He was burned! I remember now!"

Low laughter comes over the phone. " Lucky for you, that's right. Really, though, I'm disapointed in you. Here's you're next question. Hope you can handle it." (Note from site maintainer: Actually, in the first Nightmare on Elm St. Nancy got rid of Freddy by simply not believing in him)

Unable to speak, she simply continues crying, watching the door.

"What was the name of the killer in 'Se7en'?"

Rebbeca stops crying, choking back tears. "I. . .I..."

"I'm climbing the stairs, Becky. . .I'm almost outside your door. . ." the voice threatens, and the stairs creak as if to back his statement up.

"No! I never saw that one! I remember now! I never SAW Se7en!" she cries, jumping up from her crouched position.

"Oh, sorry, Rebbeca, but you TOLD me you liked scary movies, and any true devotee would have seen 'Se7en' as soon as it came out. Wrong answer. You lost the game."

"I...lost the...game..." She mumbles, and suddenly realization dawns in her eyes as she recalls what that means.Pounding footsteps come from outside the door, and she hurls herself behind the desk,dropping the phone, yanking open drawers as she searched for some sort of protection. The person is throwing themselves against the door, and Rebbeca can see that it won't be long before the locking mechanism gives out. Finally, after madly pulling things from the bottom drawer, her hand locks around a sharp metal letter opener. At the exact moment, the door bursts open. Rebbeca scuttles under the desk and pulls the chair in after her.

There is silence. Rebbeca, clutching the letter opener, peeks underneath the small space between the desk front and the floor. To her horror, she sees a tall figure standing in the door, wearing a long black cloak and the white 'Scream' mask. Slowly, the person moves into the room, and the lamp light glistens off the large steak knife clenched in their fist. Trying not to breath too loudly, Rebbeca turns slightly as the person begins to go to the left side of the room.

In an instant, Rebbeca shoves the chair away and lunges out from under the desk, raceing towards the gaping doorway. As she hurries down the staircase, Ghostface makes a sound of fury and runs after her, pounding down the steps. Jumping over the last three, Rebbeca runs through the living room and into the kitchen, pausing slightly at the shards of glass that were on the floor from where her attacker had thrown a rock throught a window to get inside. Ghostface lunges at her with the knife. She lashes out with her letter open. There is a cry of angry pain, and a spray of blood on her shirt, but she dosen't wait around to see what happened.

As she bursts out onto her back porch, Rebbeca glances over her shoulder to see her him still going strong,and she leaps over the steps, screaming.

"Help me! Somebody help me!"

Stumbling through the darkness, we see faint lights, and a large in-ground pool appears,surronded by a metal fence. Sobbing, Rebbeca sees that she has no where to go. Ghostface is coming after her, running down the lawn, and so she pulls the door open and runs inside the pool area.The water is calm, with several inflatable rafts in it. Running to the other side, Rebbeca stops, still brandishing the letter opener, sobbing and gasping for breath. Ghostface climbs the fence, drops over it, and then stands on the opposite side, silent.

"Why are you doing this?" she cries, wiping sweat from her forehead.

No reply.

Ghostface slowly begins to come around the cement walkway towards her, and Rebbeca backs up until she is pressed against the fence, watching him.

"Please," she whimpers despearatly, "don't kill me...please. . ."

He lunges at her with the steak knife. Dodging the blade, Rebbeca swings again with the letter opener and catches him in the forearm. Ghostface grunts, yanks it out and throws it to the cement. It strikes the ground and skids into the pool as Rebbeca watches helplessly. Finally, as a last resort, she turns and tries to climb the fence. The camera pulls back, and we see Ghostface grab two fistfulls of her shirt and yank her down. There is a brief struggle, and Rebbeca screams hysterically, smacking and punching as best she can. He pulls his arm up, and drives the knife straight down into her chest. Rebbeca stops struggling, and Ghostface stabs her several more times, until all motion and sound has left her.

The camera closes back in, and we see him stand up, and knudge Rebbeca's lifeless body over with his toe.She rolls into the water with a small splash, and the camera looks down as her staring body sinks to the bottom, a trail of deluted blood curling out into the pool. The camera goes back up to Ghostface, who looks straight at it, and wipes the blood from the knife blade with a resounding squeak.