Think about it. Girl and her friend arrive at the dance, the camp, deserted town, whatever. Killer takes them out one-by-one. Ninety minutes later, the sun comes up and survivor girl sits in the ambulance watching her friends' bodies being wheeled past.
Gotta remember that the whodunit may not be as important in our story... You need to figure that it's a horror story, that someone might die at every turn. You have to care if the smokin' hot lit teacher seems a little too interested in his female students. You have to care if the team wins the big game. You have to care if the smart, pretty girl forgives the dumb jock.
Well, murder is a lonely game, you know. I mean say you're the killer, OK, you sneak into Nina's house, skulk around, scare her and then you kill her. Boom. But then what? Take a victory lap around the pool? You just stand watching the blood spread out in the water, thinking crazy guy stuff.
Exactly, yeah, uh, it's the age of Instragram, YouTube and Tumblr. I mean we need to share the things we do or it's like it never happened. [Riley gets a text on her phone and takes her phone out to read it]
Sorry Mr. B. But my friend from St Mary's texted, a girl who goes there died! [everyone is shocked, especially Audrey, who immediately checks her phone]
A lair is an extension of the killer's psychosis: the root cellar in Psycho, Kevin Spacey's apartment in Se7en, Hannibal Lecter's kitchen. I mean, every fictional killer has one.
I highly doubt it. No, this looks staged. I mean, you see lairs on TV, not in real life. Take Pretty Little Liars. They're always chock-full of bloody little clues and creepy, unrealistic icons. I mean, seriously, how would 'A' get her hands on four Victorian dolls that look just like the main characters? Where do you shop for that?
