The inspiration behind the movie coming to Netflix in Fall 2025! When prom queen candidates start turning up dead, it’s a race against the clock to find the culprit in this classic Fear Street title from master of horror R.L. Stine. It’s 1988 in Shadyside. A spring night, soft moonlight, five beautiful prom queen candidates, dancing couples at the high school prom—these should be the makings of a perfect, romantic night. But Lizzie McVay realizes someone is brutally killing the prom queen candidates one by one and she may be next on the list. Can she stop the murderer before the big dance is over…for good? R.L. Stine invented the teen horror genre with Fear Street, the bestselling teen horror series of all time. He also changed the face of children’s publishing with the mega-successful Goosebumps series, which went on to become a worldwide multimedia phenomenon. Guinness World Records cites Stine as the most prolific author of children’s horror fiction novels. He lives in New York City with his wife, Jane, and their dog, Lucky. Chapter 1 1 We couldn’t stop talking about the killer. We tried to shut him out of our minds. But then one of us would remember and say something, and the talk would start all over again. We were all nervous. Not that any of us admitted it. No, we acted like it was all some big joke. But we were nervous, believe me. Because the murder took place so nearby. Because the victim was a girl our age—a girl just like us. “Look at it this way,” Dawn was saying as she buttoned up her white silk blouse, “at least the girl won’t have to worry about finding a date for the prom.” “You’re disgusting,” I told her. “For sure,” Rachel agreed. It was after my gym class on Tuesday. The locker room was crowded with girls all trying to get dressed in a hurry for the prom assembly. The hot and steamy air was filled with shrieks and laughter. I put my left foot up on the wooden bench between Dawn and Rachel, who was wriggling into a pair of black denims, and hurriedly tied my sneaker. “Did you see the thing on the morning news?” I asked them. Rachel shook her head. Dawn answered, “About the murder?” “Yeah. They showed the police tramping around in the Fear Street Woods searching for clues. And they showed the muddy ravine where the hiker had found the body. Finally they showed the girl zipped up in a blue body bag.” “Yuck!” Dawn gagged. “They also showed a blurry black-and-white photo of the girl—she had a really sweet smile. They said she was stabbed sixteen times.” “Well, she’s not smiling anymore,” quipped Dawn bitterly. Dawn had been making jokes like that since we’d heard about the murder. I figured it was her way of dealing with it. She was usually pretty good at hiding her emotions. Rachel glowered at her. “I just don’t think it’s funny.” “Lighten up,” Dawn replied sharply. “It’s not like it was your sister or something. It’s some girl nobody knows.” “I called my cousin Jackie at lunch,” Rachel answered quietly. “She lives in Waynesbridge. She says she knew her.” Dawn and I both spoke at once. “She knew her?” “Why didn’t you tell us?” “What did she say?” “How well did she know her?” “ Very well,” Rachel said, answering only my last question. “They were like best buddies. Jackie was all broken up, a total mess.” Rachel had been brushing her straight red hair in long hard strokes, but abruptly stopped. Her face became pale. “I can’t believe this really happened right here in Shadyside. I mean, it’s so horrible.” “Does your cousin Jackie have any idea who might have done it?” Dawn asked. Rachel shook her head. “No. She says Stacy was just a nice kid who everybody liked. The police talked to Jackie, but she was too upset to think clearly. She couldn’t tell them a thing.” She dropped her hairbrush into her backpack and zipped it shut. “I live on Fear Street, you know, and they found the body only a block from my house. I keep thinking it could have been me. I could have been the one they found.” “Well, it couldn’t have been me,” insisted Dawn as she finished applying her lip gloss. “With all the weird stuff that goes on there, I wouldn’t be caught dead in the Fear Street Woods.” She realized what she had said and burst out laughing. “Yeah?” I said. “Well, this morning they interviewed this cop on TV. And he said that the murderer must have staked out Stacy’s house. He thinks this psycho waited until she was all alone, and then…” I looked up and paused just to tease my friends. “And then?” Dawn demanded. “He murdered her in her bedroom.” Dawn’s mouth fell open into a frightened little O. “I’ve always hated being alone in my house,” she confided. “Somehow I don’t think this is going to help you get over your problem,” I told her. Dawn stared blankly at me for a moment. Just a moment. Then she shrieked, clutched her head, and continued to yell at the top of her lungs. Her fake outburst earned her a chorus of laughter from the girl