The room they booked at Glendale Community College had a flickering overhead light and a chalkboard with profanity half-erased.
Linda looked around and said,"WoW"
"It's temporary," James replied.
"No, I mean the smell."
"Open the windows and bear with it for now."
James set down a stack of forms on the front desk and started stacking the plastic chairs into two rows to make space.
Linda just gave him a look.
They'd posted flyers around campus, coffee shops, and taped one to a fence outside the SAG building even though it was a long shot.
Linda had included the phrase "Paid role in an independent horror film" in bold, and "non-union OK" just below it.
They didn't expect talent agents to come calling they expected theater majors, drama club regulars, and a few eccentrics who lived for the phrase "open call."
The turnout was better than expected. By ten-thirty, there were six people waiting in the hallway. One girl was reciting a monologue under her breath. A guy wearing a leather jacket paced back and forth like he was preparing for battle. Someone else had brought their own folding chair.
James flipped through the printouts on his clipboard: basic audition sides and a few short scenes from the movie. Just enough to test delivery, reaction, and whether a person could sound like a human being under fluorescent lighting.
"You nervous?" Linda asked, sipping coffee from a styrofoam cup.
"Terrified."
"Good. Means you care."
He scratched his temple with the end of his pen. "What exactly am I supposed to be looking for?"
"Someone who doesn't make you want to rewrite your own movie."
They started letting people in, one by one.
Some were decent. Some weren't. A few clearly didn't know what kind of film they were auditioning for.
A guy in sunglasses insisted on reading the killer's monologue even though there wasn't one. He made one up on the spot. It ended with him licking his thumb and whispering, "Gotcha."
Linda's pencil made a quick X beside his name.
But there were bright spots too.
One of the last to arrive that day was Samantha Loring. Sam, as she introduced herself. Late twenties, casual jeans, worn sandals, and hair pulled back in a pencil.
James blinked. "Okay."
She read a scene with a volunteer reader a panicked moment where the lead character was supposed to beg a friend not to leave the cabin.
She didn't overact it. No hand-flailing or soap opera eyes. She just read it like she was scared and trying not to fall apart.
James wrote a single word on his clipboard:Possible.
They wrapped by four.
As they packed up, James dropped onto one of the cheap chairs and sighed. "We might have to hold a second round."
"Obviously," Linda said.
"I liked Sam," James muttered.
"Good. I liked Craig the tall one. He didn't blink too much. Most of them blinked like they were being tased."
James rubbed his eyes. "We need more people."
"Or fewer characters," she said.
She looked at him. "Hey. You survived your first casting call."
He nodded. "Still feels like something's missing."
"What?"
He paused.
Then: "Someone experienced. Someone people might recognize."
The next morning at the office, James sat with a notepad in front of him, flipping his pen between his fingers. He went through the cast sheet again. They had Sam. They had Craig. There were a couple of possible supporting names.
But the mother role Mrs. Voorhees was still blank.
"She needs to be older," he said.
Linda looked up. "How much older?"
"Late forties or fifties. Someone with presence."
"We didn't see anyone close."
"Right."
He tapped the page. "What about Betsy Palmer?"
Linda frowned slightly. "I know the name."
"TV shows, Broadway. Did some movies in the fifties. She's still acting mostly stage now."
"Still working?"
"Enough. And she's not too expensive."
"What are we offering?"
"Three days. Lodging and food covered. Ten thousand, paid upfront."
Linda thought for a moment. "And her role?"
"She's in the final act. A few pages of dialogue. Few Fight scenes. Nothing extreme, but it's physical."
"You'd better mention that."
James nodded. "I will."
He typed up the offer: a one-page summary, the full script, a short shooting schedule, and a cover letter. Linda added her office number for contact.
They found her New York agent's mailing address and sent the package that afternoon.
Three days later, just after lunch, the office phone rang.
Linda picked up. "Fantasy Pictures."
She listened, then looked at James. "Palmer's agent."
James took the phone. "James Rowan."
A calm, clipped voice replied, "This is Alan Gregory, representing Betsy Palmer. She read your materials. She has questions. Please hold."
There was a pause, then a woman's voice came on. Straightforward. Professional.
"This is Betsy Palmer."
"Yes, ma'am. Thank you for calling."
"You're the director?"
"Yes."
"You're offering ten?"
"Yes, ma'am. Three days. We cover hotel, meals, and transport."
"There's any physical stunts in this?"
"There is. But it's short. Mostly close shots. We'll stage it carefully. If needed, we'll use a double for anything dangerous."
"You expect me to throw anyone across a room?"
"No. Just grapples and a controlled fall. No stunts beyond that."
Silence.
"What kind of motel?"
"Clean, private room, close to set."
She paused.
"I want at least Twenty."
James stayed quiet a beat. "Twenty thousand?"
"I'm not flying cross-country to shove a teenager around for ten."
"Okay," he said. "Twenty."
"I'll tell my agent to expect the contract."
Click.
James set the phone down and looked at Linda.
"She's in."
Linda wrote in clean block letters on the whiteboard:BETSY PALMER – MRS. VOORHEES
Then she went back to work.
James went through the list of callbacks on his desk and circled the names of the people he was ready to move forward with. With Betsy Palmer confirmed for the mother role, he needed to finalize the younger cast by the end of the week. He wanted the paperwork out before the weekend so that costumes could start soon.
He called Sam Loring first. She answered quickly.
"Hi, this is James Rowan from Fantasy Pictures."
"Took you long enough," she said. Then after a pause: "I'm kidding. Sort of."
"I'd like to offer you the lead role."
"I'm in."
He hadn't even mentioned pay yet. "The shoot is ten or possible twelve days. We'll pay $3,000 flat. We'll cover food and local transport. Credit is guaranteed."
"I said I'm in," she repeated. "Want me to sign in blood?"
"No. Regular ink will do. I'll have a contract for you tomorrow."
"Great. See you then."
James hung up and crossed her name off the list.
Next was Craig Bell, who had read well and paired naturally with Sam in auditions. Craig picked up on the second ring. He listened quietly as James laid out the offer same payment and conditions as Sam.
There was a pause, then Craig said, "Alright. Sounds fair."
"I'll send the paperwork."
"Thanks for the chance."
James called three more actors all of whom had read smaller supporting parts. Two accepted right away. The third passed, saying he had a part in a student film and didn't want to double-book.
By Thursday, seven out of eight roles were filled. James and Linda went through the list together to finalize contracts and address logistics.
Hired Lawyer typed out the actor agreements and basic release forms one page each, covering pay, credit, shoot dates, usage rights, and a simple clause about punctuality and safety on set.
They assembled the folders, one for each actor, with a schedule draft, the contract, and a short note from James explaining what to expect over the next two weeks.
"I'll deliver Sam and Craig's in person," he said. "The others I'll mail. It's better to keep this part clear."
Linda nodded. "Everyone still good with their dates?"
"So far, yeah."
Friday afternoon, Sam came by the office and signed everything on the spot.
"This looks more professional than I expected," she said, flipping through the pages.
"We're figuring it out," James replied.
"You actually have a known actress now," she added, nodding to the name on the board.
"Yep."
"Nice."
By six o'clock that evening, all of the confirmed cast had been contacted. Contracts were out. Signatures were starting to come in. Linda filed everything alphabetically in a manila folder marked CAST – FINAL and stuck it in the top drawer of her desk.
James erased the remaining blanks on the corkboard and filled in the last open names with pencil for now. The only thing missing was a guy who will play as jason's corpse in last scene.
"We're done with casting," he said, more to himself than to Linda.
She stood up, packed her bag, and grabbed her coat.
He nodded.
She headed out and flipped the light switch on her way. "Don't forget to lock up."
"I won't."
James looked at the cast board one last time before heading out.
It was full except one blank.