Page 38 of Girl, Deceived

‘And here’s Ginny. She doesn’t look like any famous horror girl, but she’s got the same name as one. Ginny Field from Friday the Thirteenth.’

Ripley wrapped her palm around her temples, like she’d just downloaded an encyclopedia into her brain. ‘Put this in simple terms, Dark, because your crazy is rubbing off on me.’

‘Laurie Strode, Kirsty Cotton, Ginny Field. Our unsub is killing off final girls.’

Ripley blinked rapidly, a brief flicker of realization emerging. ‘He's what now?’

Ella leaned against a table, her fingers drumming rapidly against the steel. ‘Final girls. It's a horror trope. The last woman standing at the end of the film. The one who faces the killer and, usually, survives. Our guy isn't just choosing random women; he's choosing women who look or have some connection to thefinal girlsof iconic horror films.’

Ripley looked idle, like she was about to fall asleep standing up. ‘But why? What's the point?’

Ella shrugged. ‘Maybe he wants to rewrite the narrative. Maybe he feels these films give people a false sense of hope. By killing these women, he's saying there's no such thing as a final girl in real life.’

‘And the masks? What about them?’

‘Exclamation points. Our killer isn’t one for subtext, it seems, but there’s something else too. He’s started blurring his horror lines.’

‘How so?’

‘The reason we couldn’t find Ginny’s phone? Because he called her on it before he killed her. He toyed with her, probably why he was already in the house.’

Doctor Weller appeared over her shoulder. ‘The call is coming from inside the house,’ he said. ‘When A Stranger Calls.’

Ella gestured to him. The man clearly knew his horror history, and Ella appreciated his validation.

‘Old film from the seventies,’ she said. ‘Guy stalks a babysitter, toys with her, tries to stab her.’

Ripley held up both palms and said, ‘Okay, Dark, let’s say I believe you. Why is he blurring the lines now? Why not just find someone that looked like this Ginny character? Or kill the final girl from this seventies movie you mentioned?’

‘The artist’s journey,’ Ella said. ‘First you imitate, then you blend, then you create.’

Ella guessed her information overload had given Ripley a headache because her hands continually found their way to her temples.

‘So, he mimicked Halloween and Hellraiser, then he blended Friday the Thirteenth and….’

'When A Stranger Calls,' Ella finished. 'Or he might be frustrated that he can't find a final girl that fits, so he's blending his references, but all that leads us to the final step. Creation.'

‘And that involves?’

‘He’s already started it. That mask he left behind? That ain’t no mask I’ve ever seen in a horror movie before.’

Ripley crossed her arms and glared at the ceiling as though demanding answers from a higher power. 'So he’s branching out into his own project.’

‘Maybe. It’s hard to say right now. He might still be mixing his references for maximum impact, but pretty soon, he’s going to go off script.’

‘Or to a script that only he knows.’

‘We could compile a list of iconic final girls, but if he’s already passed that stage then it’ll be a waste of time. Plus, young girls in their twenties with a resemblance to their cinematic counterparts? It wouldn’t be an easy task, Ripley. We'd be looking for needles in a pile of needles.’

Ripley motioned towards the exit. ‘But these final girls all have something in common, right? I assume they’re young, fit, attractive.’

‘That’s most people in LA.’

Ripley sighed. ‘Then we need to think like him. If his motive is to break the trope, to demonstrate that in real life, final girls don't get their cinematic endings, then what would his grand finale look like?’

‘Something big, somethingpersonal,’ Ella said, but that was all she had.

‘Then we’ve got work to do,’ Ripley said. ‘Hotel or precinct?’

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