HorrorVirgin

Hey Scott,


I finally have my Internet access again! The cabin was out in the middle of nowhere, and not even the iphone was getting a signal.

The trip hasn't gone so well. When I got to the cabin, everyone was already here, and a bit wasted. I felt a bit out of place – I really only know Rebecca of the bunch, and I haven't seen her since I was in London two years ago, the rest of them I've only met once or twice. Apparently, plans changed while I was on my way out here, and they decided to go caving instead of camping. Everyone's a hardcore climber, and I guess they thought that since I was born and raised in the Colorado Rockies, I must be too. But I told them my only experience with mountain climbing was watching The Eiger Sanction and Cliffhanger. My inexperience pissed off Holly and Juno because, you know, it's all my fault. So, needless to say, I didn't go caving. I didn't even get a chance to really reconsider going, as by the time I got up, they had all left, and there was a note from Juno asking if I'd have dinner ready for when they got back. Even though I was freezing and more than a little depressed at being all alone, I made the most of it, and explored the woods a little bit. It's really pretty out here. It looks just like The Last of the Mohicans.

Anyway, no one showed up for dinner, but I figured they decided to drive into town to celebrate or something. It must have been 9 or 10 when I finally heard the car pull up. Here's where the story gets creepy – no one came in. The car just sat out there, lights on, running. Finally I went outside to see what the hell was up.

The following is a transcript of an interview between Sheriff Leigh Brackett of the Haddonfield Police Department and Elisabeth Rappe, also known as the Horror Virgin.

LB: Ms. Rappe, what brought you to Haddonfield this evening?

ER: My editor, Scott Weinberg.

LB: The editor of Cinematical and Horror Squad, correct?

ER: Yes, sir. He wanted me to investigate the murders that happened here. The ones in 1978. I'm sorry if this upsets you, I understand your daughter was one of the ones slain that night.

LB: Yes. We don't like to talk about that here in Haddonfield. Why on earth are you digging up the past, young lady?

ER: Well, sir, I'd never actually seen Halloween before.

By Elisabeth Rappe

The days following that fateful phone call have been full of encouragement, scorn, laughter, and skepticism – the sort of reactions that real horror movie heroines experience when they tell everyone they have seen a ghost, a vampire, or a horde of zombies. But nothing troubles the Horror Virgin save one thing, and that is her mother's reaction to Dr. Weinberg's first assignment. "Night of the Living Dead? But you've seen it."

What devilry was this? How could she have seen Night of the Living Dead but have absolutely no memory of it? Had it terrified her so much that own her mind had shielded her from the trauma?

She decides it's time she found out. The timing couldn't be better, as it is a cold, gray, and rainy evening. Armed with a pint of Guinness and a down comforter, our humble heroine curls up with her laptop, Netflix Instant Watch, and George Romero.

By Elisabeth "The Horror Virgin" Rappe

It's late at night, and the house is quiet. Our heroine is alone. The phone rings. The voice on the other end is hauntingly familiar, and he poses a question that chills our heroine to the very core.