Midsommar (gender-bent)

“There was only one rule: don’t open the door. That was what they were told in the sunny days leading up to the massacre,” the newscaster started. “That was when the twenty-two year old college student, Matthew Williams, a native of Saint Louis, Missouri, found a pathway into a modern-day horror story.”

(screen fades to show the backdrop of the STL Arch)

“I didn't want my son to be a hero,” a woman dressed in sweats cried. “I just… I just want my son.”

“Mistakenly; you and your husband were thought to be dead from a fire your youngest son set at your house?” the newsreporter asked her.

She nodded. “My husband, Earl, is in the ICU. God bless him, we made it out of the house injured, barely breathing …”

The story went (Did your youngest son have mental health issues? We found messages through email that Matthew sent showing huge concerns…) on as the cause of death was revealed.

Matthew Williams, aged 22, and his partner Jack, (I never liked that guy Jack, he was a covert narcissist, one of Matt’s highschool friends said in an interview,) were found disemboweled at the scene of a ritualistic prayer house in a remote Swedish village in Hårga.

He read over the article. Being an onlooker to horror has its price, and surprisingly a crown.

He placed a likeness of himself over the strewn guts where his old boyfriend lay dead. He was mistakenly billed as a hero trying to save Jack. Matthew, with twisted and braided blonde hair covered in a flower-crown, felt the fear rise in his throat. His old life was monstrous, a bad boyfriend and mentally-ill brother.

But, he was the monster he feared all along. All he had to do was open the door.