Chloe Morgan (Scream OC) is part of the new generation of the Woodsboro murders. She was the former girlfriend of Amber Freeman, but that all changed during the events of Scream 5, when Chloe felt a shock of betrayal at the revelation that Amber was one of the Ghostface killers. Beginning in Scream 6, she and Sam start dating. She does not appear in Scream 7.
tag list (DM to be added): @negative-speedforce-ocs, @cupidlemon, @littlebvtterfly, @moonenthusiastartichoke, @pimento-playing-hopscotch, @absoluteselinakyle, @afdreamer, @destructivisms
Vanessa Fink (Scream OC) is a computer scientist who met Dewey Riley during the events of Scream 2, before marrying him in Scream 3. She has been a frequent victim of the Ghostface killer before eventually being killed alongside her husband in Scream 5.
tag list (DM to be added): @negative-speedforce-ocs, @cupidlemon, @littlebvtterfly, @moonenthusiastartichoke, @pimento-playing-hopscotch, @sameenshaws, @afdreamer
Bad Habits [Chapter Three] Final Girl [Billy Loomis]
Warning(s): OC, AU, mentions of death and murder, lore, nostalgia, flirting, trauma, and secrets.
No Minors Allowed!!
By morning, everyone in Lorraine's Rest had heard the news. Jacob Vanover had been murdered.
Eden found out when she woke up to her alarm, having forgotten to silence it, and checked her phone. It was not unusual to see the icon for the chat group she was in with Jodi and Darry, aptly named "True Blue" (the title of a song by Boygenius), but the number of messages took her back. She sat up, rubbed the sleep from her eyes, and began to back-read.
The moment she read that Jake was found dead, Eden immediately hit the call button at the top of the screen. Jodi was the only one to answer.
"It's about time you got up. I've been spamming the chat all morning. Did you have your phone off?"
"Since six," Eden pointed out. "And to answer your question, I had the notifications turned off."
Her shift at the library usually started at nine. Sundays were her day off. If not for the alarm, she would not have woken up until noon. Eden hated to get up early unless she had to.
"I just...can't wrap my head around this. Who in the hell would want to hurt Jake?"
Jodi hummed. "I don't know. Russell sent me the link when he found out. The police put a post up on their page asking everyone to avoid the East Street area. All I know is that it's being reported as a stabbing."
Eden could not imagine how the family or the band was taking the news. She could hardly believe it. His death just did not feel real.
"Damn."
"Yeah," Jodi uttered. There was a moment of silence between them, and then she continued. "If I hear anything else, I'll message you. In the meantime, I'm gonna take a shower and try to shake off this headache. Love you, hoe. Stay safe."
Eden softly smiled. She herself felt a bit lightheaded, like her brain was swimming.
"Love you too."
Once the call ended, Eden flopped back onto the bed. She lay there, thinking back to the night before when she last saw Jake. He was in such a jovial mood. It was hard to believe that someone in The Rest would outright kill him. For what, though? Something about it did not make sense. She was sad, but there were no tears; she could not cry for him. After a moment of silence, she crawled out of bed and got ready.
Before the news, Eden had planned to spend the day indoors, watching movies, but curiosity got the better of her. She dressed quickly in a pair of black leggings and a Linkin Park band t-shirt, then set her phone to play an all nu-metal playlist. From her apartment in South Lorraine's Rest, she jogged at a comfortable pace across the Red River Bridge to the north side, then continued on toward the court house. The air was thick; the sky, gloomy and gray. Her clothes clung to her skin like wet wool.
At the moment that she neared the courthouse, Eden noticed five police cruisers parked along the curb near East Street. The main shopping and commercial area in downtown spanned roughly 2 to 3 blocks on the right side; East Street being in the middle. Red and yellow tape marked the perimeter, keeping civilians from seeing the crime scene, but that did not keep locals from satiating their morbid curiosity, crowding the sidewalks on either side of main street like a committee of vultures. There was nothing like a murder to get foot traffic. But who was she to judge?
Eden crossed to the right side of the street and wandered into The Jumpstart Cafe. A handful of patrons turned their eyes to her; some went back to whatever task they had been doing before she entered; some continued to stare critically. Her face flushed, and she removed her earbuds, then joined the line. Given the murder, she was not surprised to see how packed it was. The Jumpstart Cafe was the first place Red River Tribute performed when they first started. It was symbolic.
A spontaneous shrine was set up left of the counter on the stage for Jacob. Pictures, letters, and flowers decorated it. The once cozy and warm atmosphere of the cafe, often described by patrons as having a “serious Friends vibe” was now heavy with grief, layered with the aroma of vanilla and cinnamon. It was beautiful, in a tragic sort of way. Eden kept her eyes focused on the brick walls, littered with vibrant construction paper butterflies that contained the hopes and wishes of anyone who wondered in - her own was tapped somewhere among them - avoiding the few eyes that still lingered on her until it was her turn at the counter.
“What can I get for you, hon?” The owner, Blanche Atkinson, asked.
She peered at Eden through thick lens reading glasses, subtly wrinkling the bridge of her nose.
“A tall dark chocolate frappe with caramel cold foam?”
“To-go,” Blanche suggested.
It didn't feel like she was giving Eden much of an option; it never did. The latter nodded, gave her name, and then stepped aside. She occupied her time at the Wish Wall, reading the various notes - random wishes such as freedom and understanding made her chest tighten - until her name was called. Picking up her frappe at the counter, she spared Blanche no look, halting only when she noticed what was written on the plastic cup. Beside a small, simple flame was the name “Fire Bug”.
Eden tightened her jaw. Her sticky band t-shirt felt uncomfortable and warm from the heat that overtook her body; her skin itched. The aroma of vanilla and cinnamon smelt too much like melting plastic and burnt hair. She ignored the temptation to rub the back of her left hand where the skin was tight and waxy, then grounded herself with a sigh. There was no reason to let the nickname overwhelm her. It was the same old song and dance anyhow.
Had it been the first time someone called her “Fire Bug” she would have gone into a panic attack; she did the first time. Now it was pathetic, a broken record some of the residents of The Rest loved to play. Turning, Eden faced Blanche, whose eye she caught, and took a drink, an action she hoped the batista conveyed as “Fuck you”, then she ambled outside.
As much as she would like for the negative comment not to truly bother her, there was a part of Eden that was exhausted by them. She felt like a villain, someone branded by a nickname that she did not want; a killer with a bad alias. Some days it just drained her energy. Sipping on the rich, velvety beverage, she strode up the sidewalk toward East Street with no direction in mind, passing hobby stores and high end boutiques that on her salary, she could not afford.
As she stepped beneath the green awning of the Historic Sterling Hotel, she spotted a familiar drifter in a Wenven jacket leaning over the railing of the upper deck. His keen eyes were focused on the cruisers nearby, watching them closely. Eden was met with nostalgia, following the sharp angle of his jaw. Her thoughts went back to the kiss; the warmth of his lips and the greediness of his touch. A sudden shock trembled through her. What was it about him that appealed to her so much?
“Careful,” Eden warned. Her face flushed once she got his attention. There was something about Billy's smirk that made her feel giddy. “You wouldn't believe how many people have toppled over that railing.”
“And miss a chance at becoming another piece of this town's history. Where's the fun in that?” Billy teased.
Eden chuckled. He must have read the newspaper clippings in the lobby. The town prided itself on the sins of the past; the misery and the corruption.
“You weren't joking about this town being grim,” he added, leaning further out. The railing groaned beneath him.
Allegedly, Billy read, The Rest was a bustling river port with multiple ferry landings, then in the late 80s, a passenger ferry crashed into another, resulting in a mass casualty event that claimed the lives of 12 people, including the founder's wife Lorraine. There was more, much more; drownings, suicides, a fire in 1990; the list went on. It was an odd anthology of history to cling to, but Billy knew more than anyone, every town had its fair share of tragedy.
Incidentally, a man was dead; a beacon of the community. Billy reckoned that in time, his death would be hung up like a keepsake on the walls of the Sterling Hotel just like the others. Averting his eyes toward East Street, he watched a broad shouldered man in a rumpled navy blazer lumber around the police cruisers, shouting at someone on a cell phone. His badge glistened in the sun, clipped onto his belt like a decoration.
“The sheriff seems wound up,” Billy pointed out. He wasn't dressed like the other officers wearing short sleeved polos.
“Graves?” Eden snorted. She took a sip of her frappe; the cold foam had melted, blending into her coffee like a rich, flavored creamer. “He's probably just mad because he had to actually do something today.”
Which made her wonder just how serious Jake's death had affected the community. Richard Graves was a desk bound idiot; a greedy puppet of the McKeehans’ who got his job through political connections rather than merit. For him to be handling the situation personally, Kitty and Wayne must have had a reason for him to.
Eden sighed. What sort of trouble was Jake into to warrant his dead? She reckoned that it wasn't her business to know. Peering up at Billy, who was still focused on Sheriff Graves, she contemplated asking him to join her. He was a stranger, her mind warned; there was not a whole lot about him she knew. Would he even want to waste his time with her after last night? The voices in her head urged her not to ask, but she didn't listen. What was the worst he could say? No.
“I’m gonna be in town for a bit. You can join me, if you like.”
Billy tilted his head and smirked. He was hoping that she'd ask, though perhaps it was better if Eden hadn't have. Lifting a finger as if to say “give me a minute”, he pushed off the railing and went back inside.
Meanwhile, Eden waited. She watched volunteers and community members decorate the yard of the Alder County Courthouse with thick bales of hay, plastic skeletons, and uncarved pumpkins in various shapes and sizes. It was coming a long well despite the unexpected tragedy.
“What's on your mind?” Billy asked, exiting the hotel to see Eden lost in her thoughts.
She glanced at him, smiling briefly, then averted her attention to the yard of the courthouse. Eden was wondering how it was possible for some people, including herself, not to be so deeply affected by the murder. She should be mourning for Jake; she knew him about as much as some of the others she had witnessed grieving, yet she didn't feel heartbroken. Sympathetic, yes, but there were no tears. The world simply went on.
“Nothing important,” Eden lied. She turned to him, deflecting. “What are your plans for Halloween?”
Plans? Billy hadn't really thought about it. He typically stayed less than a week in a new place before moving on. Shrugging, he chuckled as Eden visibly opened her mouth in shock. She clasped his arm softly.
“Then we need to get you a costume. Everyone and their uncle dresses up and attends the celebration at the courthouse on Halloween,” she stated.
“Aren't you a little old for costumes?” Billy teased.
Eden playfully swatted at his arm.
“I like to indulge in escapism like everyone else. Sue me.”
Escape from what, he wondered. Billy wet his lips. He doubted that she was lying. One thing he had learned about Eden was that she was an open book if one knew the right questions to ask.
“What’s your costume then?” Billy asked.
Eden teasingly disregarded his question and led him back down the sidewalk to Treasures and Trinkets, an antique store she liked to browse in from time to time. Displayed in the bay window were family costumes; the Flintstones: Fred, Wilma, Pebbles, and even Dino. The bell above the door chimed as they walked in, and the scent of pumpkin spice and potpourri permeated the air.
“Welcome in,” greeted the bored voice of Ezra Bennett, the teenage grandson of Majorie Whittaker.
Despite her blatant dislike for Eden, Ezra seemed civil with her. He was quiet, sporting tousled bright red hair, and loved to read true crime; he came into the library at least once a week to check out a new book. Once he saw her, he smiled softly and waved; his eyes were intense, staring as though he was trying to connect with her. Eden waved back as she passed the counter.
“There should be– here it is,” she remarked, leading Billy to a rolling garment rack directly in the lobby. “See if there is anything you like. I'll get it for you.”
Billy hummed. “I'd owe you.”
Eden grinned. Releasing his arm, she took a step back.
“Yes you would.”
That was exactly the point. After that, she turned with a smile and ambled further into the store. Aside from the lobby, there were four additional rooms with over 35 different vendor booths. Eden had recently bought a rustic bookshelf in mid-tone brown that would complement the accent table that she had bought last summer. It sat in the furniture and antiques area. She did not have the vehicle to tote it, however, so she asked Ezra to put a hang tag on it until Russell could get his truck fixed and help her move it. There was always something to browse. Checking out the home decor area - a 32 vintage glass set made by Fenton caught her attention - she soon returned to the lobby empty-handed. If it was still there by the time she got paid, then she'd buy it.
Billy was still shifting through the rack of costumes and vintage party wear when Eden approached him.
"Find anything?"
He pulled a red sequin dress shirt from the rack and held it against his chest.
"What do you think? Does it look good on me?"
Eden snorted. "Groovy."
She shook her head, helping him look.
"It might help me if you tell me what you're gonna dress up as," Billy said.
Eden peeked up from the rack and smiled playfully at him as if to say, "Wait and see." Billy faked a pout. She returned to looking.
The majority of the costumes were from the 60s and 70s, but Eden was able to find one that was germane and familiar. She took it from the rack and showed it to him.
"What about this one? Everyone likes a good slasher."
A look of familiarity crossed his features. It did not surprise her much. Everyone knew who Ghostface was. The costume came with a robe and mask, but it was a knockoff from the film.
"The mask is made of plastic, though. Not really authentic," she added.
"I never took you as a Stab fan," Billy remarked.
"I like scary movies in general," Eden clarified.
She did not dislike the Stab franchise, but like all horror movies, she gave it a fair chance. Billy took the costume from her, looked it over with uninterest, and then put it back.
"No one likes a cheap copy."
He winked at Eden, then returned to looking. In the end, to her dismay, he chose nothing.
“We'll find something for you before then,” Eden stated. She nodded briefly in appreciation as Billy opened the door for her, facing him as they stepped out onto the sidewalk again. “I think Russell might have something that will fit you.”
“I get the feeling you're trying to keep me here,” Billy pointed out teasingly.
Eden flushed. Was she? There was no denying that she was drawn to him, though it was purely an attraction. She reckoned that it wouldn't hurt to play along; Billy would be out moving on soon anyway.
“What if I am?”
Was she challenging him? Billy touched her cheek. Her sad almond shaped eyes gleamed with hope; eyes that held the same loneliness as his. He considered kissing her again, but the script was rewritten. The instant he edged closer, the loud and aggressive roar of a Mercedes-AMG tore her away from him.
Eden felt faint. Whether because of the humidity or the nerves, her body was suddenly clammy and uncomfortable. She parted from Billy and glanced over her shoulder. A cherry red sports car, fresh off the line, pulled into the parking spot adjacent to them. Jodi often referred to this as a “The audacity of this bitch” moment.
Kitty McKeehan, blaring Michael Bublé's Crazy Love, turned off the engine and departed. For a woman in her mid-forties, Eden thought she was gorgeous despite her sour expression. Lance certainly got his looks from her; distinctive light colored eyes and a commanding presence that they used to intimidate those deemed beneath them - the entire town of Lorraine's Rest.
For a brief, hopeful moment, Eden thought that she would ignore her. But with a fake smile, Kitty waved.
“Eden, darling. I thought that was you.” Her accent was thick. She sashayed over, heels clicking on the concrete and quickly embraced Eden. “I'm glad to see you. It's been a while since you've been up to the house.”
“I've been busy,” Eden lied.
She was certain that Kitty already knew Lance and her were no longer dating. He told her everything, personal and otherwise. It was one of the many reasons their relationship grew tedious. Eden was tired of hearing Kitty dictate her sex life; a well-fed dog stays home, she'd inculcate.
Kitty scanned Billy and hummed as if to say, “I'm sure”. Her smile faltered.
“Not to change the topic, but I'm sure you heard about Jake, poor soul.” She leaned in so close Eden could smell the nip of gin on her breath; gin that she brought out only when Mister McKeehan stayed over late at the office to ‘catch up on work’. “I heard he was stabbed multiple times; assault with intent to kill.
Graves mentioned that it was quite a mess over yonder. He told me - purely because I look into these sorts of things - that the murder weapon was recovered. The girls at the country club are going to lose their skirts when I tell them about this.”
That was a relief.
“It's only a matter of time then,” Eden muttered.
“I'd certainly hope so,” Kitty remarked. She took a step back. “With something as big as a Buck 120, those idiots out of Nashville should be able to find a finger print or something.”
A Buck 120. A bout of nostalgia washed over Billy. He shivered, averting his eyes to the police cruisers parked along the curb; to Graves lumbering around the scene like a puppet. The Rest had all the potential to be a classic horror movie. He did not favor the heat of the murder billowing down on him, but he craved the thrill of scandal and death; it beckoned him like a moth to flame.
“How are you doing with all this, sweetheart,” Kitty suddenly asked.
Billy turned his eyes to her, then to Eden, whose shoulders were tense and raised.
“Why with your reputation, I don't imagine too well,” Kitty remarked. “Luke is worried about you. People talk in a small town. I just want you to know our door is always open, where you're safe.”
With that she departed. Eden stared in a daze at the spot she stood in; her finger tapped the plastic cup, unintentionally pointing out to Billy the nickname that the town called her. He pulled her from her thoughts, resting a comforting hand on her arm; his curiosity was piqued.
“Inlaws, yeah?”
Eden did not have to say a word. Billy could feel how unnerved she was; her body was trembling. He could not help but think at that moment that if Lorraine's Rest were a horror movie, then Eden could potentially be its “Final Girl”. Weirdly, he liked the idea of that.
Scream Knowledge: Moderate. She likes horror movies as an escape, but doesn't obsess over the rules.
Character Theme: The Change by Evanescence
–
Name: Billy Loomis (Luke Jameson)
Face Claim: Skeet Ulrich
Archetype: The Original Architect
Scream Knowledge: Omniscient. He doesn't just know the rules, he wrote them.
Character Theme: Change (In The House of Flies) by Deftones
–
Name: Daryl (Darry) Crowder
Face Claim: Kyle Gallner
Archetype: The Randy Meeks (The Expert)
Scream Knowledge: Elite. He understands troupes, sequels, and the logic of the killer.
Character Theme: Snuff by Slipknot
–
Name: Jodi Buckner
Face Claim: Leighton Meester
Archetype: The Vibrant Best Friend
Scream Knowledge: Low. She doesn't care much for horror and lives in the moment.
Character Theme: Falling Apart by Trust Company
–
Name: Russell Williams
Face Claim: Luke Mitchell
Archetype: The Moral Compass/Ray of Sunshine
Scream Knowledge: Casual. He'll watch a movie if Jodi wants to, but he's too optimistic to believe that the monster is real until it's standing over him.
Character Theme: The Middle by Jimmy Eat World
–
Name: Lance McKeehan
Face Claim: Dane DeHaan
Archetype: The Golden Boy/Entitled Antagonist
Scream Knowledge: Non-existent. He doesn't watch horror movies. In a world where the rules are law, he believes his family name and money makes him invincible to them.
