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BRETT (yelling out, crying): NO! NO, ''PLEASE''!!
 
   
 
BRETT (yelling out, crying): NO! NO, PLEASE!!
   
The killer seized hold of the Asian boy’s hair in his left hand, pushing his head back to expose his throat. The killer hovered the blade over the side of Brett’s throat. They angled the blade so that he could press the side against Brett’s throat and then he pressed down and dragged his wrist across. As the blade parted flesh and arteries, it turned slightly so that the pointed tip started tearing through his skin. As a result it ribboned his windpipe like a sheet of paper. Blood didn’t gush out in a fountain, but rather it took to the air in a fine mist that sprayed out.
 
   
   
   
The killer didn’t let go of Brett’s hair, keeping his head held back so that the wound stayed stretched open. Brett wasn’t really making noises. It was hard to tell if the hideous wheezing rasps were coming out of his mouth or the slice in his throat, his destroyed windpipe. After a few seconds, body twitching and shuddering, Brett fell still. That was when the masked figure carelessly tossed the limp Brett into the swimming pool with a splash. Near where Brett's splayed out body floated face down, the previously clear water-filled swimming pool began to turn a crimson color, as blood swirled around his half-naked form.
+
The killer seized hold of the Asian boy’s hair in his left hand, pushing his head back to expose his throat. The killer hovered the blade over the side of Brett’s throat. They angled the blade so that they could press the side against Brett’s throat and then he pressed down and dragged his wrist across swiftly. As the blade parted flesh and arteries, it turned slightly so that the pointed tip started tearing through his skin. As a result it ribboned his windpipe like a sheet of paper. Blood didn’t gush out in a fountain, but rather it took to the air in a fine mist that sprayed out. The killer didn’t let go of Brett’s hair, keeping his head held back so that the wound stayed stretched open. Brett wasn’t really making noises. It was hard to tell if the hideous wheezing rasps were coming out of his mouth or the slice in his throat, his destroyed windpipe. After a few moments, body twitching and shuddering, Brett fell still. That was when the masked figure carelessly tossed the limp Brett into the swimming pool with a splash. Near where Brett's splayed out body floated face down, the previously clear water-filled swimming pool began to turn a crimson color, as blood swirled around his half-naked form.
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That video release was Brett's work, so why didn't he show up at school to see the damage?
 
   
 
That video release was Brett's work, so why didn't he show up at school to see the damage? But soon they would find out that viral video was just child's play compared to what was coming.
   
'''''But soon they would find out that viral video was just child's play compared to what was coming'''''.
 
   
   

Revision as of 09:32, 13 January 2021


Brett Shimura was the sociopathic ringleader of a particular cyberbullying incident, who continually teased, harassed and mercilessly bullied his fellow classmate -- Audrey Jensen -- for her sexuality. Brett had a greaser “boy toy” named Tyler O'Neill, who was the leader of a dangerous gang in Lakewood. It looks like it’s a revenge play against Brett that sets the events of the show into motion.


Brett was Lakewood's cruelest resident for centuries to come, ultimately before his murder. Although he was the scheming bully before ruthless queen bee Nina Patterson, Brett was considered a narcissistic, petty, and manipulative troublemaker.


Brett managed to make so many people despise him, that just about every character in the series had a motive for his murder.


On December 5, 2016, Brett viciously bullied Audrey in front of everyone in the school cafeteria. Moments later, Tyler uploaded the video to social media, which instantly went viral. That night, Brett and Tyler were brutally murdered in Brett's backyard by an ghost-masked serial killer.


Brett's murder marked the beginning of the Lakewood 2016 Murders and sets up the introduction of Emma Duval, the series’ heroine.


Personality and Traits

Despite being not the stereotypical alpha male, Brett is shown to be a cruel, arrogant, spoiled, manipulative, violent, and narcissistic person and is a very dangerous individual. Coming from a prominent background, being a star and a popular student at George Washington High, Brett appears to view himself as being superior to everyone and as such believes that he can do whatever he wants to, never once taking into consideration other's feelings. Brett is a cruel bully as well as he helped to humiliate Audrey and other outcasts.


Brett Shimura didn't just deserve just to die, he deserved not even to be born.


One of the biggest jerks in a series filled with jerks, though he isn't outwardly maliciously nasty like, say, Ghostface lack. Still, while he might not be a biggest jerk per se, he is one of the biggest villains along with Ghostface.



Brett fakes emotions to fit in, is creepily calm and is rarely if ever temperamental, brags about his crimes and is a surprisingly good manipulator and surprisingly intelligent for that matter.


Season 1

Pilot

BRETT (off-screen): Oh, looky what we have here, ladies and gentlemen... Audrey Jensen.


Brett Shimura showed up, smiling sinisterly.


Audrey knew something bad was about to conjure up and she had no possible way of avoiding it. The camera shakes, as Brett held it. He looks directly at the camera.


BRETT (baby-voice): Awww, is Audrey making a little selfie video for her little girlfriend? How sweet. You know, it's too bad that you don't like guys Audrey, ‘cause they wouldn't want to kiss that hole you call a mouth anyways.


Brett sat one the left side of Audrey glaring at her, while he started poking at her left over food.


BRETT (to Audrey): Not eating your corn dog, why, Audrey? Is it because you don't like guys? You don't fantasize this corndog being a guy's instrument shoving down your throat? Let me help you with that...


Audrey didn't say anything. Her head fell down and she stared at the face of her empty tray before her. Her eyes burned with fear, rage and sadness but she had no way of stopping the two of them once they've started. Brett snickered and looked over at Audrey, pointing at the corn dog.


BRETT (teasingly): I think you are afraid of it.


He has a wide smile on his face. He took the end of the corn dog practically shoving it in Audrey's face while kids all around them witnessed and one of them was Noah Foster. Brett laughed after Audrey attempted to get away but Brett held her back by her hair, holding tight and secure. Brett smiled; his lips firm and plump, before shoving the corn dog in Audrey's face once again.


BRETT: Why are you scared, Audrey? Huh!


Brett pulled back hard on Audrey's hair. The entire cafeteria went into complete shock and silence even Emma Duval and Noah who had just appeared into the cafeteria from the bathroom. Audrey tried many times to get away. To get out of Brett's ruthless taunting presence but it was all worthless and totally useless.


AUDREY (pleading): Stop.


Brett pulled harder and he teased more.


BRETT (teasingly): --and why would I do that, Audrey? Boys like it when girls suck on it, so suck it!


Brett shoved the cold corndog more into Audrey's face, and Audrey moaned.

AUDREY: No, please!


Audrey fought trying to hold back the tears that were so close to running finally fell and caused much more issues. Brett began to laugh at Audrey and as the bell rang for next period, they let her go and left with a few threats to finish the job.


At the end of the day, Brett sauntered outside the school's front entrance.


BRETT (coldly): Wipe that smile off your face.


He sauntered on passed Audrey.


Brett's friend, Tyler O'Neill was in his black and red Camaro, with one arm hanging from the window and the music blaring with all windows rolled down. Brett walked up to him and jumped inside the vehicle.


11:38 PM


The roaring engine of Tyler's car came to a stop, as the two teenagers pulled up to the Shimura household. Brett sat in the passenger seat, while Tyler sat in the driver's side, his hand casually resting on the steering wheel. Brett rolled his eyes.


BRETT: It's a time-honored enforcement of the food chain: The weak are outed, and then eaten.


Tyler grinned.


TYLER: Wow, you are an evil drunk tonight.


BRETT (rebuking): Oh, please. You agreed that video was too good to post online.


TYLER (smiling): Officer, he made me do it.


Tyler turned his head toward Brett.


TYLER: He makes me do a lot of things.


He was sending a suggestive look toward Brett. Brett ignored him, only paying attention to the numerous alerts on his phone.


BRETT (announcing excitedly): Oh, my God. Audrey's breaking the internet.


Brett was glad his heartless, cruel prank was going very well. Everyone was buzzing about the viral video of Audrey Jensen getting savagely harassed in the cafeteria.


BRETT: It already has ten thousand views and counting.


Smiling, Brett turned to Tyler, with a prideful, satisfied look on Brett's attractive face. Tyler moved closer to Brett, roaming his hands along the steering wheel.


TYLER (suggesting): Then why don't you make me a drink while we break the Internet, huh? I know your parents are out of town.


Brett remained unimpressed.


BRETT (unsympathetically): Awww, no.


He was unsympathetic toward Tyler's sexual needs.


BRETT: I only needed your tech-savvy tonight, not what's in your pants.


Opening the car door, the Asian boy stepped out and headed toward his house.


Even though his parents were out of town, Brett never planned on hooking up with Tyler tonight. Brett only needed Tyler's extensive knowledge of technology, so Brett could upload the video without it being traced back to him.


Brett's shoes clicked against the pavement on the way toward his glass front door, leaving Tyler watching Brett walk away with a longing expression on his face. He tried to remain unaffected, tried to suck it up, but on the inside, it stung — even though he knew it would never last, knowing deep down that a sociopathic asshole like Brett Shimura would never settle for a loser like him. Brett walked up to the front steps of his house. A key clicked into the lock and the front door opens.


Brett removed his leather jacket. He walked through his house, planning on taking a nice, relaxing soak in his hot tub. Not liking the quiet, he opened up an app on his phone.


BRETT (commanding into phone): Music on.


His head bobbed to the beat, as a pop song started playing from the various speakers around the house.


A little while later, Brett changed into black swim trunks. Dinging, Brett's phone blasted with numerous notifications, causing him to look down. Picking his phone up, Brett seeing a video of himself tugging on his swim trunks just a mere few seconds earlier, Brett widened his eyes.


Confused, he turned around, surveying his surroundings. But no one was there. Phone dings.


"How does it feel to be the star of the show?"


Brett sees the text was from Tyler. He turned back around, and noticed the green light shining from his MacBook Air computer; a signal that the webcam was on. Brett shook his head, marching over to his computer and slamming the laptop shut. Leaning against the desk, Brett sighed.


BRETT (muttering): Tyler, you are skating on Restraining Order Lake.


Getting another text alert, Brett quickly looked down at his phone.


"Why would you want to do that? Out of fear?"


Freaked out and growing angrier by the minute, Brett started wandering around the house, trying to see where Tyler was.


BRETT (calling out): Tyler! I swear to God if you are in my house, you are dead!


He clenched his jaw, growling under his breath. He walked down the hallway.


BRETT (calling out): If you want to be an adult about this, I will gut you on command!


It was a very nice house, modern and affluent. But it was in the outskirts of town, way out in the country. Brett always felt so isolated when his parents were out, so alone. There weren't any neighbors around for several miles. The house was surrounded by thick woods on either side.


Brett had no reason to be afraid. But still, something about being home alone at night spooked him. He crossed the living room to the patio doors and looked out. An eerie mist hovered over the surface of the Olympic-sized swimming pool in the backyard.


It was 11:50 PM, pitch black outside. His parents were out having dinner. He was all alone out in the middle of nowhere. Brett shuddered, feeling a cold chill up his arm. He glanced at the flat-screen television, eyeing the videocassette boxes on top of the VCR.


Brett had rented a few horror movies earlier that night at the video store, and hopefully, if he could keep Tyler occupied, he wouldn't be all over him like he usually was. Besides, the only reason Brett wanted him over is so he could feel safe and have someone to calm his nerves to some extent.


The kitchen was at the end of a short hallway that connected the living room to the kitchen and dining room. Another hallway branched off into a huge foyer. The entire room was lined with huge glass windows, much like the rest of the house.


He clicked on the patio lights. A fluorescent floodlight illuminated the porch. Tyler was outside, watching Brett through the windows. Brett slowly walked towards the front door; opened it and slowly stepped outside to the porch in wonder. Brett stared out at the empty porch, lit only by the small lights. He listened to the sounds of chirping crickets. He looked out at the vast front garden, the gnarled oak tree creaking in the night time wind. Brett looks around and scans the area with narrowed eyes, frowning when he noticed that, again, there was no one there.


Getting another ding from his phone, Brett looked down at the screen and sees a video playing of himself walking outside from just moments earlier. Brett gasps, spinning around. But still, there was no one in sight. Brett's breath was coming out in short pants, no longer finding Tyler's little game funny. He couldn't help but jump in fright, as another beep came through his phone, causing him to furrow his eyebrows.


"Think of me as your director and you the actor looking for your big break. This is the big chase scene... the opening scene. The hook. The audience is counting on you to scream your lungs out, so don't blow it. And in the end, you'll be the memorable one. The first death."


Brett froze momentarily, before quickly heading back inside the house; his fear slightly washing away and replacing itself with anger. Brett walked back inside, only to keep looking back to see if anyone was behind him. After entering the house, a fearless Brett locked the front door. Getting another ding, Brett looked down.


"You're vulnerable in the open... like a lonely antelope ready to be picked off from the herd."


Brett began to run aimlessly across his house, Brett continued across the hallway, moving as fast as his weak muscles would allow. He came to a stop by hiding behind the glass side doors. He kept gasping through deep breaths, unable to comprehend what had happened.


BRETT (breathing heavily): Oh, my God.


A floodlight behind Brett clicked on, illuminating the cement patio. Brett looked towards the glass garden doors.


Tyler was tied to a chair in the middle of the patio, barely alive. Rope was tied around his hands and feet... duct tape across his mouth… he was bloodied and bruised, and his hair was disheveled and caked with blood... Tyler was slumped over in the chair... his stomach had been ripped open... a pool of blood was forming beneath him... a steaming pile of organs lay at his feet...


Brett felt another overpowering wave of nausea come over him. The floodlight turned off, immersing Brett in darkness. His phone dinged. A terrified Brett looked down, causing his eyebrows to furrow.


"Words can't save you now. You better gear up for the big death sequence. Lights... camera... ACTION!"


Just as things grew maddeningly silent, the patio doors imploded inwards as one of the patio chairs came flying through the glass. Bits of wood and shards of glass sprayed across the room. Brett was incited like fire. He clutched his phone, and ran through the house, barreling down the hallway into the kitchen.


Brett was oblivious to the popcorn burning on the stove, the tin foil expanding far beyond its normal capacity; smoke was beginning to fill the room. He ran towards the butcher block on the kitchen island and grabbed the handle of the longest, sharpest knife and pulled it out of the block.


He whirled around to face the door to the hallway, holding the knife out in front of him in a defensive pose. He could barely see anything. Thick smoke filled the room, enveloping Brett. Brett made his way through the kitchen, the knife in one hand and the phone in the other.


He ducked into the small hallway at the back of the kitchen, and moved towards the side door. He could hear someone in the living room... the sound of feet crunching over broken glass...


The attacker was in the house... what the hell was Brett going to do?


Brett quietly opened the side door and slipped outside, gently closing it. He glanced around at his surroundings... all he saw in front of him were the thick woods that surrounded his house... It would take miles to reach the nearest neighbor, and even farther into town.


Brett looked down at the phone in his trembling hands. Brett took a deep breath, and began inching his way down the side of the house. He clambered up onto the back porch and made his way towards the patio, ducking down to avoid being seen by the killer. There were three curtain-less windows ahead. The lights in the house suddenly clicked off. He was looking for Brett.


Brett crouched down underneath the first window, and stuck his head barely above the sill, peering into the pitch-black house. Brett caught a quick glance of someone in black moving through the living room, and he ducked back down. His heart pounding loudly. Brett crawled closer towards the patio doors, poking his head up to look through the next window.


The killer was in the hallway now, moving towards the kitchen... Brett ducked back down, taking deep breaths... The killer was in the kitchen now...


Brett curled his fingers tightly around the knife handle, his chest heaving... his heart racing... Brett crawled as fast as he could on his hands and knees towards the patio doors and stopped at the third window looking into the living room... Brett had to make sure the killer was still in the kitchen looking for him.


Brett slowly rose to his feet, looking into the window. The window was completely blacked out. He looked up and realized what the black was. It was a black cloak. The killer was staring right back at him.


Brett screamed hysterically. The killer's face was covered by a ghostly white mask... the dark eyeholes stared into Brett's soul... The killer suddenly sprang forward, smashing through the window, grabbing Brett by his wrist, pulling Brett towards him. The knife fell from Brett's hand, as he squirmed to free his hands from the ghost's grasp... Brett screamed, as the killer's head smashed through the remainder of the glass in the window, and he lunged at Brett, grabbing Brett by the neck.


All Brett had was his phone still clutched in his right hand. He lashed out with his free hand, clobbering the killer on the side of the head with the phone. The killer growled angrily and staggered backwards into the house.


Brett forgot all about the knife still lying on the concrete. He forgot all about his phone. There was only one thing he could think of and that was getting the fuck away from there. Brett began to run.


Brett stumbled across the patio, cringing at the sight of Tyler's bloodied corpse… still tied to the chair...


Just as Brett was about to call out for help, in the hopes that one of his neighbors would hear him, Brett felt the tip of a wicked-sharp knife swing horizontally across his bare back. He felt the cold steel of the blade slice the flesh open, digging deep. Brett heard the sound of scraping bone as the blade cut across his back. Blood leaked down his bare back. Brett lets out a strangled scream of agonizing pain. The pain scorched and wracked at his body, taking over as the only sensation in his mind and body. Brett felt himself drop to his knees and sink to the cement patio, landing in a thud. Brett's hand desperately reaches behind him to stop the bleeding, but he couldn't reach the injury. Brett groaned in pain. With his back stinging from the slash wound, Brett looked up and saw his attacker. Brett slowly staggered to his feet and stumbles across the grass, desperate to escape.


However, from the pain he's enduring, Brett dropped down onto the grass. He fumbles, trying to crawl away, but the energy was quickly draining from his body. While trying to stand up with as much strength as he could muster, Brett limped across the grass in a last attempt to escape. But Brett didn't have the strength to go any further. Brett moaned in pain, dropping down to the ground again, his back coated in blood. Crawling forward, he continued to whimper, and the white ghost masked figure in a black hooded poncho wrapped his arm around Brett, and lifts him to his feet near the edge of the swimming pool.


BRETT (protesting): Please don’t...


The masked figure pulled Brett to him, gripping Brett with his arm. Brett beats at the figure while wrenching from side to side, crying helplessly. Tears leak out of his eyes, as he felt the life inside of him slowly slip away.


BRETT (yelling out, crying): NO! NO, PLEASE!!



The killer seized hold of the Asian boy’s hair in his left hand, pushing his head back to expose his throat. The killer hovered the blade over the side of Brett’s throat. They angled the blade so that they could press the side against Brett’s throat and then he pressed down and dragged his wrist across swiftly. As the blade parted flesh and arteries, it turned slightly so that the pointed tip started tearing through his skin. As a result it ribboned his windpipe like a sheet of paper. Blood didn’t gush out in a fountain, but rather it took to the air in a fine mist that sprayed out. The killer didn’t let go of Brett’s hair, keeping his head held back so that the wound stayed stretched open. Brett wasn’t really making noises. It was hard to tell if the hideous wheezing rasps were coming out of his mouth or the slice in his throat, his destroyed windpipe. After a few moments, body twitching and shuddering, Brett fell still. That was when the masked figure carelessly tossed the limp Brett into the swimming pool with a splash. Near where Brett's splayed out body floated face down, the previously clear water-filled swimming pool began to turn a crimson color, as blood swirled around his half-naked form.



At school, Emma Duval glanced anxiously at her phone in her lap. Brett, one of her best friends, hadn't contacted her since the other day: no texts, no calls, no Snapchat messages, no Facebook DMs, no tweets. Coming from someone else, she wouldn't have really thought about it much, but coming from Brett, it was bizarre. Majorly bizarre. Brett always had his phone with him. He couldn't survive without it. Literally. That thing was his lifeline. Wherever Brett went, his phone went with him. He would either be texting Emma the next evil scheme he concocted in order to potentially destroy someone's life (for his own amusement) or about the next boy on the basketball team he was hooking up with that week, giving Emma all the details. So, the fact that Brett hadn't texted her since after school the previous day had Emma, worried.


Riley Marra alerts everyone of the absence of their puny group leader's presence.


That video release was Brett's work, so why didn't he show up at school to see the damage? But soon they would find out that viral video was just child's play compared to what was coming.



Hello, Emma

A little while later, standing outside of George Washington High, Brett's memorial was set up -- lot of students that Brett had humiliated and harassed during their years in high school, placed flowers and notes that made it seem like they were the closest of friends.


On Emma's phone screen, a dark video footage shows Brett scrambling around the house. The camera rushed up behind him. Brett's back gets horizontally sliced open with the swing of the killer’s hunting knife. The camera was right behind Brett at that point, leaning over to yank him to his feet. Moments later, Emma heard the swish of the blade. Brett's hands gripped his neck and choked of his own blood.


Later, Emma shows Noah Foster the same video footage. Noah rewinds it to when Brett's limp body gets thrown into the pool.


Villainous Deeds

  • Taunted and then viciously stuffed a corndog in Audrey Jensen's face during lunch in cafeteria (seen in Pilot).
    • Uploaded the cruel video to every social media website (with Tyler O'Neill's assistance).
  • Discovered Brooke Maddox and Seth Branson's sexual relationship (mentioned in Pilot).
    • Knew about Seth's past.
  • Blackmailed local town officials, along with sex tapes as a bonus (exposed in Hello, Emma).
  • Lied to Sheriff Clark Hudson about being kidnapped by Seth Branson and forced Emma Duval to play along (seen as flashback in The Dance).


Appearances

Season 1

  • Pilot
  • Hello, Emma (video footage / flashbacks)
  • The Dance (flashback)


Season 2

  • When a Stranger Calls (video footage)


Trivia