Let's be real. In 2015, nobody expected a show about a sorority being hunted by a guy in a plastic mascot suit to become a permanent fixture of internet subculture. Ryan Murphy’s Scream Queens was a chaotic, neon-drenched fever dream. It was loud. It was offensive. It was, quite frankly, a mess of plot holes and biting satire. But the central mystery—who is the Red Devil?—turned a basic slasher premise into a cult phenomenon that people are still dissecting years later.
If you weren't there for the live tweets, you missed a moment in time. The show didn't just borrow from the 80s; it wore the 80s like a vintage Chanel suit. It leaned so hard into the "Scream Queen" trope that it essentially redefined what that meant for a new generation of viewers who had never even seen the original Halloween.
The Anatomy of the Red Devil Killings
The Red Devil wasn't just a killer. It was a brand. Most slashers go for the gritty, dirty look—think Jason Voorhees in a damp hockey mask or Freddy Krueger’s burnt skin. Not this guy. The Red Devil costume was shiny, bright red, and looked like it belonged at a high school pep rally, which was exactly the point. It turned the symbol of Wallace University’s pride into a literal nightmare.
The logic behind the costume was simple: visibility. You saw him coming. There was no hiding in the shadows when you were dressed like a giant piece of candy. The first season revolved around the 20-year anniversary of a death at the Kappa Kappa Tau (KKT) house. Someone was back for revenge. But unlike a standard whodunit, Scream Queens gave us three killers working in tandem.
Boone Clemens (played by Nick Jonas) was the first shocker. Seeing a pop star fake his own death only to reappear with a weightlifting obsession and a murderous streak was the kind of campy twist only this show could pull off. Then you had Gigi Caldwell, the "national president" of the sorority with a stuck-in-the-90s wardrobe and a mind warped by grief. But the real mastermind? Hester Ulrich. Lea Michele went from Glee sweetheart to a neck-brace-wearing psychopath who literally stabbed her way into a sorority.
It was brilliant because it was stupid. The show knew it was ridiculous. When the Red Devil is chasing someone, and they stop to post about it on Twitter while the killer is standing right behind them, it’s a commentary on our own obsession with digital validation.
Why the "Scream Queen" Label Changed Forever
Before this show, a "Scream Queen" was Jamie Lee Curtis running down a hallway. It was Faye Wray. It was a girl who survived because she was "pure."
Ryan Murphy took that and flipped it. The girls in KKT—the Chanels—weren't "good." They were horrible people. Chanel Oberlin, played with terrifying precision by Emma Roberts, was a racist, classist, narcissistic nightmare. Yet, she was our protagonist. We were rooting for the mean girl to survive the Red Devil.
That shift changed the DNA of horror-comedy. It taught us that the survivor doesn't have to be likable; they just have to be interesting. The "Scream Queens" of Wallace University were a collection of archetypes pushed to the absolute extreme.
- Chanel #3 (Billie Lourd) was the deadpan heiress who wore earmuffs because an ex-boyfriend threatened to cut her ears off.
- Chanel #5 (Abigail Breslin) was the punching bag whose only crime was being slightly less cool than the others.
- Zayday Williams (Keke Palmer) was the actual hero, the one with a brain, acting as the foil to the insanity around her.
The show worked because it understood that horror is often most effective when it’s absurd. You're laughing at a one-liner about pumpkin spice lattes one second, and the next, someone is getting their head shaved off by a lawnmower. It’s a tonal whiplash that few creators can handle without the whole thing falling apart.
The Mystery of the 1995 Bathtub Incident
Everything circles back to the bathtub. In the pilot episode, we see a KKT sister give birth in a bathtub during a party and subsequently die because her "sisters" didn't want to miss "Waterfalls" by TLC. That child grew up to be the Red Devil.
👉 See also: Loss: Why Memes With Loss Hidden In Them Won’t Ever Die
Actually, it was twins.
This is where the show gets complicated. Hester and Boone were the babies from the bathtub. They were raised by Gigi in an asylum with one goal: destroy KKT. It’s a classic revenge plot, but dressed up in fast-fashion and high-gloss cinematography. The brilliance of the Red Devil mystery wasn't actually about the identity of the killer—most fans guessed Hester pretty early on—it was about how long they could get away with it in such a small, paranoid environment.
The Legacy of the Costume and the Camp Aesthetic
You still see Red Devil masks at Halloween stores. Why? Because the design is iconic. It’s the "Ghostface" for the Gen Z and Millennial crossover.
The show also pioneered a specific "look" that influenced everything from Riverdale to Euphoria. It was high-fashion horror. Every scene was color-coordinated. If a character was dying, they were going to do it in a coordinated pastel outfit. It brought an aesthetic sensibility to the slasher genre that had been missing since the 90s.
Critics at the time were split. Some called it "vile" and "trashy." Others saw the genius in the satire. Honestly, it was both. It poked fun at Greek life, "woke" culture (even back in 2015), and the inherent misogyny of horror movies. It wasn't trying to be Hereditary. It was trying to be a comic book that someone set on fire.
What Actually Happened to Season 3?
Fans have been screaming for a revival for years. Ryan Murphy has teased it on Instagram more times than I can count. The problem is usually scheduling. The cast exploded after the show. Emma Roberts is a mainstay in American Horror Story. Keke Palmer is a massive movie star. Jamie Lee Curtis won an Oscar. Getting that group back together is a logistical nightmare.
But the demand remains. The "Red Devil" era of television felt like a fever dream because it was so unapologetically itself. It didn't care about being realistic. It cared about being "iconic."
How to Revisit the Red Devil Era
If you're looking to dive back into the world of Wallace University, don't just watch the show. Look at the influences.
- Watch the classics: Go back and watch the original Heathers (1988). You’ll see exactly where Chanel Oberlin’s DNA comes from.
- Check out the 80s slashers: The Red Devil is a direct homage to the "prowler" killers of the early 80s. Watch The House on Sorority Row (1982).
- Follow the fashion: There are entire Tumblr and Pinterest boards dedicated to the KKT wardrobe. It’s a masterclass in costume design by Lou Eyrich.
- Look for the satire: Pay attention to the dialogue. The show is mocking the very people who watch it. It’s a mirror held up to social media obsession.
The Red Devil isn't just a character; it's a reminder that horror doesn't always have to be dark and brooding. Sometimes, it can be bright, loud, and wearing a plastic mask while wielding a chainsaw. It’s about the spectacle. It’s about the scream. And most importantly, it’s about the "queens" who manage to survive the chaos with their hair perfectly in place.
Whether we ever get a third season or not, the impact is undeniable. The show proved that there is a massive audience for "camp" and that you can combine genuine slasher stakes with high-level comedy. Just remember: if you see a guy in a red devil suit, don't stop to take a selfie. Run.
Actionable Steps for Horror Fans
- Analyze the "Final Girl" Trope: Compare Zayday Williams to Grace Gardner. The show presents two very different versions of the "survivor" archetype.
- Study the Satire: Re-watch the pilot and look for every time the characters prioritize their social standing over their actual lives. It’s more relevant now than it was then.
- Host a Slasher Mystery Night: The Red Devil's multi-killer reveal is a great template for writing your own murder mystery games. It’s rarely just one person.
The Red Devil might be gone from our screens, but the brand of horror it created—vibrant, mean-spirited, and hilarious—isn't going anywhere. It’s baked into the way we talk about the genre now. Stay stylish, stay paranoid, and keep your neck brace on.