Several times You Were Suspected, and the One Time You Weren’t. (SCREAM VI SPOILERS)
Summary: Reader is a newbie in the core-four friend group and according to the rules, they are a suspect. Reader keeps conveniently showing up at the murder scenes, and a seed of doubt becomes implanted in the others’ minds leaving them to believe Reader is Ghostface. Reader is innocent, but they don’t know that.
Word Count: 8,511
Pairings: Gn!Reader x Tara, Male!Reader x Tara
Author’s note: The reader is male since there is a SIGNIFICANT lack of male reader fanfics, but could be read as gender neutral if you try hard enough. Slight proofread because I got lazy.
You rushed over to Sam’s apartment as soon as you could. Slamming the SUV door shut, you jogged over to the ambulance where you were met with the distressed faces of Chad, Mindy, Tara, and Sam.
“What the fuck?” You shoot a glance at Ethan, catching the end of his excuse for an alibi. He appeared to be flustered.
“I saw it on the news.” There was genuine concern in your voice. “I can’t believe this happened.” Your eyes began to water because you had been close with Quinn and it hurt knowing she was gone. Forever.
You didn’t miss the way the four survivors from Woodsboro exchanged skeptical looks with each other and refused to initiate a conversation with you.
You were taken aback. Their suspicion was fair, but it hurt to be looked at that way. Like you were capable of killing them in cold blood. “Y-You don’t think I did this?”
In an attempt to clear your name, you said, “I loved Quinn. She was my best friend. Why the fuck would I kill her? Or kill Anika?”
You stopped yourself, at the risk of sounding hysterical.
“Doesn’t matter if you were best friends.” Mindy replied, very clearly glaring at you. “That still gives you motive. Maybe you were spurred on by jealousy.”
You scoffed and silently pleaded for the others to back you up. No one did.
Ethan shuffled awkwardly. Chad and Tara refused to meet your gaze, and Sam was staring at you in a way you’d never seen before.
“Speaking of motive, where were you last night?” Mindy asked with narrowed eyes.
Suddenly, everyone’s eyes were on you.
You stuttered nervously. “I was in the dorm. You know, where I’m living.”
The last part came out meaner than you initially intended.
“Hmm,” Mindy shook her head, pressing her lips together. Her eyes scanned around the ambulance from where she sat, then they were on you again. “How convenient, y/n. That you were at the college dorm when none of us were there to corroborate your alibi. You just moved at the top of my suspect list.”
You wanted to be angry, but you found yourself understanding why they were reacting this way.
Least you could do was divert some of the attention away from you. “Fair enough, but I don’t think you should rule out Ethan, either.”
Ethan faced you sharply, eyes wide like a deer in headlights. “Why would you say that?!”
“I mean, a school excuse? Really? It’s almost the same as mine.” You retorted, resisting the urge to snicker at his slowly reddening face.
“I was taking the—!”
“We’re not ruling anyone out.” Sam interjected, her voice determined. “Y/n’s right, I don’t think it’s smart to point the finger at one person. Even if they are highly suspicious.”
You chose to ignore her patronizing tone. “Yeah, I’ll take that.”
“Just stay the fuck away from us.” Chad held his hand up as if signaling for a stop. Then he added, “Both of you.”
“Wait,” You said desperately, taking a small step forward. “Is there a way I can prove myself? Please. I mean, haven’t you been wrong about your theories, Mindy?”
Everyone went silent.
That couldn’t be a good indication for you. You held your breath, expecting to hear a pin drop.
“Yeah.” Mindy whispered under her breath quietly. You almost missed it, too.
“Yes, as in, I can prove myself?” You pressed on, hopeful.
“No.” Your heart sank. “Yes, as in, I was wrong at pointing out the killer before.”
“Well, at least y/n is wanting to clear their name.” Tara finally spoke after letting her friends do the talking without her. “Same can’t be said for the other present suspect.” A jab at Ethan.
Ethan struggled to argue his case, which you couldn’t help but smile at. Maybe you would be able to gain your friends’ trust back after all.
“I think we should give him a chance.” You caught Tara gazing at you. A slight smile teased her lips.
Was she on your side? Or not? You weren’t sure.
Chad gave her a questioning look. They stared at each other for so long, you began to wonder if something was going on between them.
“Alright, fine.” Chad relented. He threw his head back dramatically and sighed.
After witnessing Tara punch the famous, annoying reporter Gale Weathers, you were all led to a creepy area she had found through “Investigative journalism”.
And by all, was you, Ethan, Quinn’s cop dad, Sam, Tara, Kirby, and Gale.
“Jesus.” You managed to speak past your shock while traipsing and observing the displays that contained collectives from every ghostface killing.
Tara was walking ahead of you at a slow pace. She was assigned to watch you, and Chad was in charge of Ethan. So you weren’t allowed to stray away from her or the group.
Fine by you, because you weren’t the killer, or one of the killers. You learned from Mindy that there could be multiple.
You noticed Tara staring at a particular display. Her fingers traced the glass carefully.
You could tell from the way her fingers traced the display for too long that seeing all of this was causing her emotional distress.
You noticed a picture of a girl. Amber, you think. Tara must have suffered through so much because of her.
“Hey…” You said softly, bumping your shoulder against hers in a lighthearted manner and catching her attention.
“So, you and Chad?” You leaned on the display, your stomach pressed against the glass. “Are you guys a thing or…”
You trailed off, hoping she would fill in the blanks for you.
“We aren’t.” She answered a little too fast, but didn’t give anything more than that.
You let out a puff of air, feeling disappointed. You wished her response was convincing enough.
It was obvious that you were bummed and she regarded you with amusement. “Why do you care?”
“Because I like you.” The confession spilled easily from your mouth. “No bullshit. I really like you, Tara.”
You were scared to see her expression because you knew that it could end in rejection. Especially a beautiful girl like Tara, she probably had lots of men and women that were lined up to date her.
You were attracted to her attitude and her pretend carefree behavior, which she used as a coping mechanism due to traumatic events.
The dangers from her past and what was happening in the present didn’t deter you. You wanted her in spite of the fact that she was a victim of murderous attacks.
She deserved to be loved and treated respectfully.
But since you were currently the most suspected out of the group… you didn’t stand a chance.
“For the record,” Tara started off; You prepared for your feelings to be crushed. “I believe you.”
That got you turning your head to face her. Tara wasn’t pitying you, or angry. Her reaction wasn’t at all like you had expected. She was being calm.
Your eyebrows shot up in surprise. “You do?”
“About you being in love, not the serial killer part.” She had a halfhearted grin on her face.
Tara was teasing you. Well, you were 90% sure she wasn’t serious about the murderer accusation.
You decided to play along.
You leaned in closer to her, dropping your voice to a low whisper as you spoke in her ear. “Doesn’t that excite you? A potential psychotic killer only having the hots for you?”
You trailed your fingers up her arm for effect. You didn’t miss the shift in her eyes.
How they became half-lidded and how they definitely weren’t directed at your eyes anymore, but at your lips.
The energy surrounding the two of you seemed to change also. It became static and… very warm.
Your cheeks were starting to feel hot.
Tara shuffled closer to you, and you followed. The both of you waited on the other to make a move.
You swallowed nervously; Tara let her eyes fall to watch your throat bob.
When she didn’t change her mind or make the choice to walk away, you swiftly closed the gap and connected your lips with hers.
You anticipated that Tara would eventually push away from you and laugh because this interaction between the two of you was an elaborate prank all along.
She didn’t. You weren’t being duped.
Tara Carpenter was kissing you and her lips were so, so soft.
You had absentmindedly placed your hands on her hips and pressed her front against yours, while simultaneously slipping your tongue in her mouth.
You heard Tara try to stifle her gasp, and fail at doing so.
You had to stop yourself from smiling into the kiss because you didn’t want the moment to end too soon.
You were warm and tingly all over; your heartbeat thrummed against your chest. You were getting wrapped up in the excitement of the moment.
Just as you dreaded, it was cut short. You were startled by a strong arm gripping your shoulder.
Tara looked up, in a daze, when you were suddenly jerked away from her. She wore a confused expression on her face.
“Keep your dirty hands off her, Ghostface.” Chad jabbed a threatening finger in your chest.
He got into your face, and it was very jarring. You were genuinely scared for your well-being, and your life-long streak of no broken bones.
Like a hungry snake preying on an unsuspecting mouse, his hands latched onto your throat. The force of his grip had you raised a few inches from the ground. “What are you planning?”
“Chad, stop.” Tara protested, annoyed.
“Put y/n down.” Mindy groaned. “Seriously, this is not the time for your alpha complex.”
He wasn’t squeezing tight enough to strangle you, but it was still uncomfortable to breathe.
Your eyes were wide in fear. Chad didn’t let you go.
You weren’t earning any sympathy points from him, especially since you most likely took the woman he’s had eyes for.
“Okay, put them down right now. Or I shoot.” Kirby deadpanned. “I’m not kidding.”
This is it. You were going to die at the hands of a condescending jock. Not the ending you thought would ever happen, but what could you do?
You drew in a shallow breath and let your eyes flutter close. Something felt heavy in your pocket. Without alarming Chad, you sneaked your hand inside to figure out what the object was.
Your fingers grazed the hilt of a knife, your chest tightening when you realized what it was. You needed to keep your breathing under control, even while Chad had his hands around your throat, or you would give your predicament away and be in tremendous trouble with the group.
You didn't have a knife on you before you entered the abandoned shrine building, so who pinned it on you? And without anyone catching them?
The longer you stressed about the knife and the longer Chad was proving to be a hostile threat, the more you considered stabbing him.
You gaped in horror as the thought crossed your mind. You were just stressed out, that's all. Not a reason to impulsively lash out.
But he was threatening your life...
You were sure Chad's pissed-off face would be forever implanted in your memory when Kirby called out, "Alright, I'm counting to three!"
Chad dropped you before she could reach number three. You thankfully hit the floor on both feet, but being the asshole, Chad shoved you with brute force and knocked you off balance.
You were sent tumbling backward over a display, letting out a yelp as your head slammed against a wall.
"Oh my fucking god." That was either Mindy or Sam.
You couldn't tell black from blue; Your head swam and you were pretty sure you weren't imagining the warm liquid trickling down the back of your neck.
A dark shadow rose above you. You craned your neck up to see everyone in the group staring down at you with worry. Minus Chad because he obviously wasn't sorry.
"Shit." Tara crouched down in front of you. "Come on. I'll help you walk out of here." She extended her hand.
You blinked blearily and grabbed her hand. You fought back a wave of nausea as you were pulled up to your feet. Tara intertwined her fingers with yours, which put a smile on your face.
The two of you started to walk in sync.
Someone slung an arm around your shoulder. Mindy.
"To show you my condolences for the actions of my idiot brother," Mindy declared aloud so everyone could hear. "You have officially been moved down my suspect list."
"I appreciate it." You offered a weak grin, and she returned it.
"What do we do next?" Tara asked after approaching Kirby with you in tow.
Kirby's eyes seemed to glint with mischievous intent. "I have something in mind."
You needed to get rid of that knife as soon as possible.
"Distracting the killer on a phone call while tracing him from a van?" Mindy sighed in disbelief. "In a public space with a crowd of people?"
No one dared to interrupt her rambling; Kirby was working on a computer, Ethan worked on a bag of chips, and Chad was laying back.
"This is exactly how our uncle Randy died in the sequel!"
"Just relax." Kirby tried to assuage her. "I know what I'm doing."
"The killer is going to conveniently hang up right before you can trace his location," Mindy smirked, dissing Kirby's police skills.
"I can complete a trace in 15 seconds," Kirby replied with as much sass.
Mindy's face turned serious. "Oh, carry on."
Tara and Sam were being used as bait to keep the killer occupied on the phone call.
"Trying to lure me to a public area with a bunch of cops watching?" Ghostface laughed eerily while Sam listened on the other end. Tara stuck by her side. "I've seen this before and I'm one step ahead of you."
"Wait, where is that pinging?" Mindy asked, leaning over Kirby's shoulder to observe the map on the screen. There was a pulsing dot pinpointing Ghostface's current location.
"That's..." She recoiled.
"Gale!"
You took a taxi from the hospital to Gale Weather's apartment. One quick google search, and it was easy to find out where she lived.
Your injury had been stitched up; a white gauge was wrapped around your head. You weren't technically dismissed from the hospital, but you had a terrible feeling in your gut that Gale was in danger.
You assumed everyone else remained in a group since you last saw them, but you didn't know if anyone was looking out for Gale.
You rushed your ass into the elevator of her building and jabbed your thumb into the button to go to the top floor. "Come on, come on."
The elevator seemed to move at an infuriatingly slow pace, which didn't help your nerves. You paced around as the elevator kept rising. "What if I'm too late?" You mumbled to yourself.
You didn't have time to dwell on your anxiety because the elevator doors were opening, and you darted the hell out of there.
"Gale!" You screamed at the top of your lungs while running through the hall. You caught a glimpse of open doors and sounds of struggle followed from inside.
Heart beating heavily in your chest, you turned into the room without slowing down. You soon stopped when you took in the sight of the destroyed room, and the masked figure barreling your way.
A shrill shriek escaped from your lips as you tried to dodge. Ghostface's knife slashed your cheek as you did so. You fell on your side, groaning.
The masked killer fled into the hallway and disappeared; you weren't being targeted. Yet.
You sat up once you heard soft groans that didn't belong to you. Your eyes searched the room frantically until you spotted the person you came to save.
Gale was lying on the floor; blood was slowly seeping from under her body.
"Oh fuck." You crawled to her. Gale's choked gasps were audible now that you were near her.
You observed her stab wounds with watery eyes. "Gale... I'm so sorry.”
It seemed like she was trying to smile, as if she was at peace with dying, and you were worried that she was straining herself.
"You're going to be okay-" You reached to put pressure on a gushing shoulder wound, but someone yelling out Gale's name made you pull back.
Oh no.
You swallowed thickly and stood up just as Sam and Tara ran into the room.
They were shocked to see you. It didn't take long for Sam to grow angry with you. "You stay the fuck away from her."
It was only then that you realized your clothes became stained with Gale's blood. "I didn't do this! I collided with the killer when I ran in to save her."
"How did you know where she lived?" Great, now Tara was suspecting you were the killer. She was purposefully keeping her distance.
"I was in the hospital room when I missed a call from Gale's number. It was weird. Gale Weathers would never call someone like me. I had a feeling something was wrong and looked up her address on google."
Tara gave you a once over. You could see her face relax.
She still trusted you.
Sam was the opposite. “I don’t believe you. Don’t even think about coming near my fucking sister either.”
With that being said, her attention shifted to the woman dying on the floor. Or as Mindy would put it, the “Legacy character.”
“Oh my god, Gale.” Sam knelt down next to her body, on the verge of crying. Tara lingered behind her.
“I called the cops when I got here.” You said, hoping to dig yourself out of the hole you found yourself in.
“If you’re trying to make yourself seem innocent, it’s not working.” Sam replied coldly.
Well, damn.
Tara turned her head to give you a sorrowful glance, mouthing a silent apology.
You gave her a curt nod. The fact that Tara believed you was all the reassurance you needed. “You know what, I’m fucking tired of taking the blame for this fucked up shit.”
You were careful to not say anything that would incriminate you by accident. You were storming out before you could hear Sam’s reply.
There was no point in holding your tongue because you found yourself in the hot seat at the police station anyway.
“Why don’t you give me a rundown of your story again?” Detective Bailey looked tired. “Maybe you missed important details.”
You scoffed; your arms were crossed, and you leaned back in a chair. “You’re hoping that I’ll trip up and change my story.”
He clenched his jaw, held eye contact with you, then sighed in defeat. “You happened to arrive at Gale Weathers’s apartment moments after she was stabbed… I think it’s fair for me to be skeptical about coincidences.”
“I told you already. I missed a call from Gale’s number when I was getting stitches on my head at the hospital.” You pulled out your phone, tapped on it, then showed the screen to him.
In the notifications bar of your phone, there was a missed call alert from a number you didn’t have saved. Under the number was a smaller text that read, “Maybe: Gale Weathers”
Detective Bailey skimmed through the notification multiple times, but it wasn’t photoshopped. You were telling the truth.
“Alright.” He motioned for you to put the phone away, and you did.
You thought the interrogation was going to be over soon, but then Detective Bailey reached around and pulled out an object concealed in a plastic bag.
He dropped it on the table. You saw what it was at first glance and immediately felt like you had seen a ghost.
“Want to explain what you were doing with this weapon?” He was smug now.
You thought you got rid of that knife.
“An eyewitness saw someone, fitting your description, discarding this knife in the hospital trash.”
When you remained silent, he leaned forward and continued to interrogate you, “Who are you working with?”
You shook your head, not removing your gaze from the knife. “Test the blood.”
Detective Bailey seemed taken aback. “What?”
You made eye contact with him. Your face was deadpan. “I never used that knife. The blood is from old victims of past Ghostface killings. I’m telling you, detective, someone is trying to frame me.”
He set his jaw, and you could sense the gears in his brain turning as he mulled over your suggestion.
Without a word, he stood up, snatched the evidence with a force that made you flinch, and left the room.
Just as you said, the blood on that knife didn’t belong to Quinn or Anika.
“What do you mean you’re letting y/n go?”
You could hear Sam and Detective Bailey conversing from the other side of the door.
“I ran the knife through blood testing and there was no match to any of the current victims.” Bailey explained. “He’s clean.”
The door opened. You were able to see that Sam looked grim, and Detective Bailey was disappointed.
He beckoned for you to come out, and you did without hesitation, snubbing Sam on your way out.
“Meeting at the hospital. In lobby.” You reread the text message from Tara as you walked into the hospital building.
You spotted the group in a corner. You braced yourself and strutted over to them.
Their heads snapped up upon your arrival. As expected, you were greeted with a chorus of complaints.
“Why are you here?” Chad took on an intimidating stance, possibly to scare you.
”I invited him.” Tara admitted. Some of their scrutiny was then focused on her.
“Tara—“ Sam scolded.
“What?” Tara cut her off, tone becoming defensive. “Your hot neighbor and Ethan are allowed to hear the discussion, but y/n gets the cold shoulder? How is that fair?”
They didn’t argue with her any further.
You gauged everyone’s grim expressions. “What’s going on?”
“We’re gonna trap Ghostface.” It was Tara who answered you. She had her phone out. “Then kill him.”
You and Tara had to use the bathroom.
But not really.
Needless to say, she was happy you were proven innocent.
Your hands gripped her hips tight enough to leave bruises as she was pushed up the wall.
You feverishly kissed the span of her neck and positioned your knee between her legs to keep her upright.
Tara had her arms wrapped around your neck; her nails leaving scratches. Breathless moans slipped out of her mouth.
“Fuck.” You whispered in the crook of her neck, your arousal growing.
You sensually grinded your front against hers, using the friction to relieve some of the pressure in your pants.
Tara laughed softly. She trailed her hands to your shoulders and lightly pushed back from you so that she could see your face. “Slow your roll, babe. We’ll both be alive to have sex later.”
”You don’t know that.” You whined, going back to kiss at her neck.
“I’m serious, y/n. I don’t want our first time to be in a hospital closet. I don’t care if death is looming over us.” You stopped grinding and looked up to see a frown on her face.
“No, you’re right.” You slumped against her, sighing heavily. “I am afraid. I don’t know if I’ll ever get to be this close to you again.”
Tara rolled her eyes. “I keep telling my stalker sister to let me go. I can fucking handle myself.”
“She cares about you.” You mumbled into her shoulder. “Plus, telling someone to let you go while we’re in a real life scary movie is kind of ominous.”
Your tone was lighthearted, but you meant what you said. You couldn’t help feeling worried about Tara‘s choice of words.
If the time came to it where her sister or you were in danger, would she put herself at risk of being murdered instead of saving herself?
You would rather that not happen.
Sensing your discomfort, Tara’s smile faded as quickly as it came. “You’re coming with us, okay? We won’t be separated.”
The sick feeling in your stomach wasn’t going away, but you relaxed anyway. You wanted to be at the final showdown in case the plan went wrong.
Tara raised a brow, holding back a laugh. “Can you let me go? Sam is probably losing her shit right now.”
“Oh, fuck. Yes, I’m sorry.” You had forgotten why you were here in the first place. You let her down with caution.
Tara poked fun at your freaked out expression while you tried to erase any sign of sexual tension on you.
The two of you hurriedly moved out of the enclosed space as best you could without creating suspicion.
“There’s only one way in through these doors. When we trap him in here,” Kirby shook the gates forming a box in front of the creepy shrine entrance, which required a key card to be unlocked. “Bastard has nowhere to go.”
This place gave you the chills. You couldn’t believe you voluntarily agreed to come back. It was asking to be murdered.
Mindy was too late for the final showdown. She had to take a separate train with Ethan, and Sam hadn’t heard back from them since.
It showed on Sam’s face that she was as skeptical as you about the solidity of the plan, but it wasn’t your trauma that was displayed all over the theatre.
Her fear was more justified.
”Don’t worry, it’s safe here.” Kirby tried to soothe everyone’s anxiety.
But all of you listened to Mindy’s lectures about horror rules enough times to know that the place definitely wasn’t safe if someone had to vouch for it.
”Come on, let’s go.” Tara tugged on your arm, leading you the back room of the theater.
You tore your attention away from the Ghostface mannequins and followed her.
“I’m coming with.” Chad walked behind you to make damn sure you weren’t going to hurt Tara.
You and Tara were conversing by a table set up with cups and old, soft drinks that were left behind long ago.
Chad was leaning on the wall with his arms crossed, supervising both of you.
“So…” Tara smiled, her eyes downcast as she fiddled with a cup.
She was being shy.
Your arm rested on the table and you leaned forward in interest, a sly smile on your face.
“I was thinking when we—”
The way she fluttered her eyelashes at you, and smiled so big that her dimples showed, had you thinking about how breathtaking she was.
And how lucky you were to have her attention like this.
You acted impulsively and dived in for a kiss, cutting off whatever she was going to say next.
You could feel her smiling, her lips melded perfectly with yours. You heard Chad yell, “Watch out!”
Just when you thought things were going smoothly, you were startled by Ghostface appearing behind Tara with a knife raised.
You were stuck in slow motion, watching in abject terror as Ghostface stabbed Tara in the back.
Tara nearly keeled over. “Fuck!”
“Guys, go now!” You shoved Tara towards Chad and delivered a punch to the masked killer’s face.
“You‘re getting what’s coming to you, you fucker!”
The murderer stumbled backwards momentarily, but then they stopped and tilted their head in a silent challenge.
Your blood ran cold. You knew what horror scene reenactment was coming up next.
You took off at the same time Ghostface lunged at you.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck.” You had never been so fucking scared for your life until now. When a murderer skilled in stealth and agility was chasing after you.
You ran in the direction you hoped Tara and Chad took. But maybe it would’ve been wise to lead the killer away from them.
You weren’t brave enough to do that alone.
The killer’s running footsteps completely deceased when you turned a corner into another room where you were met with the scared faces of Tara and Chad.
“Y/n!” Tara went to hug you, but Chad held her back.
“Wait. How do we know they aren’t one of the killers?”
“Are you fucking kidding me!” You threw your hands up in disbelief and clenched your jaw. “I would never agree to hurting, or remotely stabbing any of you!”
Tears were building up in your eyes and Tara observed you with the same glossy look.
“Alright, say I believe you—”
Chad was speaking, but something moving behind him caught your attention.
You didn’t waste any time to warn him, screaming at the top of your lungs. “Chad!”
Tara spun around and upon seeing Ghostface, she made the smart decision to walk backward towards you.
Then, the worst thing imaginable happened. A second Ghostface approached him.
Tara began to cry, panic rose in her voice as she bumped into you. “No, not Chad. No, please.”
You saw someone rush in out of your peripheral vision and jumped apprehensively.
It was Sam. Thank god.
Despite your disagreements, you were glad she was okay.
However, your relief was short lived. You witnessed the two Ghostfaces rip into Chad’s flesh with their knives. They kept gutting him, over and over.
Your mouth dropped at how brutal they were going at him. You could never imagine stabbing your worst enemy like that; it was fucking evil.
Tara was full on sobbing now, and you had to hold her back from doing something reckless.
Chad gurgled on his blood. “Run. Leave me and run.”
You winced at the squelching noise that emitted every time he was stabbed.
“We gotta go.” Sam said sternly.
She grabbed Tara’s hand, who hadn’t stopped begging for them to stop killing Chad, and dragged her the hell out of there. You were right on their tail.
The three of you ended up back in the main room with the creepy shrines.
“Uh, why is it just the three of us?” You surveyed the room nervously. “Where’s Kirby?”
“That’s what I’m trying to figure out. I got a phone call from Bailey. Apparently she’s not mentally stable and she’s not officially FBI, either.” Sam answered. She kept a protective arm around her sister.
“What? That’s bullshit.” You exclaimed while frowning. “Something doesn’t feel right.”
“Yeah.” Tara’s voice was weak. “It doesn’t.”
You stared at Tara empathetically. “You guys are the core four,” You quoted Chad’s name for the OG Woodsboro group. “You’ll survive.”
Tara turned her head to look your way. Softly adding, “You’ll survive too.”
You weren’t too sure about that.
All of you were caught off guard by a loud clanging sound. You turned around to see Detective Bailey making his entrance into the theater with his gun lowered.
“Everyone alright?” The old man asked. “Where’s Kirby?”
“I-I don’t know.” Sam stammered.
“They knocked me out!” You whirled around in surprise as Kirby stumbled into the room.
Judging by the glaring bruise and laceration on her head, she was telling the truth.
But detective Bailey didn’t share the same sentiment. He was alarmed by her presence and raised his gun. “Stand down, Kirby!”
“What? I’m not the killer!” She shouted.
You really felt bad for Kirby; You knew what it has been like to be falsely accused.
You didn’t want to interrupt, lest you get caught up in the middle of a screaming match between two cops.
You witnessed her eyes gradually widen in fear, and she pointed frantically. “Behind you!”
Shots were fired and they hit Kirby. The wrong person. You were frozen to the spot as she dropped to the floor, your body trembled in fear.
You slowly faced Detective Bailey. Betrayal was written all over his smug face. The beaten up Ghostface mask stood next to him.
“No effing way.” You voiced aloud.
You heard boots clicking against tile and immediately tensed at the sight of the other Ghostface flanking the three of you from the side.
And they stopped right in front of you.
“Shit.” You whimpered. Your palms were becoming cold and clammy from nerves.
The killer shifted their feet and retreated away from you, standing menacingly next to old man Bailey.
“Sam Carpenter. I’ve been waiting for this.”
You didn’t know who this Detective was anymore. You were mad at yourself for not considering him as a suspect, but you’ve been too busy fighting to clear your name.
“You’re family.” Sam stated it as a fact.
You became more confused.
“You killed my son.” The detective’s eyes flared with rage. “I brought the family together to make you pay.”
The Ghostface on the right took off their mask to reveal…
Ethan. Of course, it was fucking Ethan.
You snorted. “I fucking called it. Your pathetic virgin act wasn’t fooling me.”
Except you didn’t predict they were all related to Sam’s ex-boyfriend, who was a vicious psychopath.
He glared at you with murderous intent that basically meant your fate was sealed. “It wasn’t an act.”
You pissed him off.
Good.
Anything to stop them from lashing out on Tara and her sister.
“Aw, really?” You pretended to pity him, sarcasm dripped from your tone. “I wonder why no one will fuck you.”
“You couldn’t handle me, asshole.” He pointed his knife at you. A sardonic laugh escaped from his mouth, “I actually wanted to fillet you. Not Chad.”
That made you shut up.
“But fuck, it felt good to kill him!” He confessed gleefully.
“I hate you.” Tara ground out.
You gripped her shoulder in a sense of protection and comfort.
“So, Mindy?” Sam fixed her eyes on the Ghostface that still had their mask on.
This particular reveal had your blood boiling.
It was none other than the Detective’s daughter, Quinn Bailey.
“I took the blame for your murder and you weren’t even fucking dead?”
You couldn’t stop the words from tumbling out.
Quinn pouted mockingly. “I’m sorry. It was just so easy to pin it on you and we didn’t even have to orchestrate it. Crazy how anyone can’t be alone by themselves anymore without raising red flags.”
“I am so gonna fuck you up!” You threatened.
She gave you a condescending smile. “For an expendable character… you sure are brave.”
“Y/n is our scapegoat.” Her father was starting his monologue. “We needed someone to pin the killings on and what’s more perfect than my daughter’s best friend, who doesn’t even have the full trust of their own friends?”
“A little fake blood goes a long way.” Quinn said.
“All I had to do was be the first on the scene to swap out the body. Lay down a few prosthetics.”
You connected the dots. The air was suckered out of you as you fully realized the extent of their betrayal. “You’re the one who pinned the knife on me.”
There was no warmth in Detective Bailey’s smile. “It was actually Ethan’s idea.”
Ethan mirrored his father’s smile. “Everyone was extra suspicious of you, and neglected to keep an eye on me. It was surprisingly easy to go undetected.”
“I was the one who called you from Gale’s phone.” Quinn confessed. She wasn’t apologetic in the slightest.
“It would’ve worked, too.” Old man Bailey sneered. “We just didn’t account for the younger Carpenter sister having feelings for you.”
Ethan and Quinn began to go separate ways toward the three of you.
Tara was shaking. You squeezed her shoulder tight.
“Lucky me, huh?” You said dryly to the corrupt detective. “I’m capable of love. Which is more than what could be said for you sorry fucks.”
Quinn lurked right of Sam, behind the displays. Ethan stopped behind you.
You could feel the tip of a knife pressing into your back.
You weren’t sure who was shaking more at this point, you or Tara.
Something began to play on the screen behind you. You heard a man’s voice.
“Maybe I overindulged Richie’s love for these movies, but it was how we bonded.” Detective Bailey got a faraway look in his eyes.
“Gore and horror…” He shook his head. “Not my thing.”
“You hide it pretty well.” You pointed out like a smart ass.
You didn’t feel sympathetic for him at all; You only grew more angry. What kind of father discredits the victims of his son’s psychopathic behavior?
And Bailey blaming the Carpenter sisters for killing Richie in self defense because he was going to murder them for a stupid movie, that was twisted.
Dumb motives must run in the family.
You didn’t realize you said that out loud.
Detective Bailey turned his attention from Sam and onto you.
You were fucked. You knew that, but you didn’t see it coming this fast.
Detective Bailey raised his gun and didn’t hesitate to fire off a bullet into your shoulder.
You jerked at the force of the gunshot striking your body and stumbled backward, right where they wanted you.
Ethan’s knife entered into your flesh faster than you could scream.
Tara’s voice rung out, “Y/n!”
But she couldn’t move to reach you. Sam was protecting her and Quinn was in close proximity, taunting them with her knife.
Ethan slung an arm around your chest and pulled you closer to him. The knife wedged itself deeper in your back, and you cried.
“I got you and Chad.” He spoke into your ear as you gasped helplessly. “I win!”
Tara was crying with you. Her mascara running down her face.
There wasn’t much you could do to console her.
You were a wreck. Your face was perspiring and glistening with tears, and you were bleeding out.
You didn’t catch the rest of Bailey’s monologue because you kept zoning out, only hearing bits and pieces. “Until he was killed by you and your bitch of a sister!”
“Fuck you!” Sam yelled at Detective Bailey, and Quinn slashed her on the upper arm.
“Shut up, bitch!”
“Your son was a pencil dick who let his girlfriend do all the work.” Sam spat.
They weren’t listening to her. Detective Bailey glorified his son too much to believe the truth Sam was spewing.
“Tara, you ready?” Sam was now facing you. She must’ve been turned around when you weren’t paying attention.
Her eyes revealed that she had a plan up her sleeve. She was hiding something behind her back.
Tara whined in fear; she didn’t answer.
“I need you to be ready.” Sam emphasized calmly.
A beat of silence, then Tara’s voice came back firm. “I’m ready.”
“Y/n?” Sam was asking you the same question.
You couldn’t bring yourself to speak, so you just nodded.
Sam yelled out and hurled an object at Quinn. That was a signal.
You seized the opportunity to elbow Ethan in the ribs with all the strength you still had left, then you reared your head back. A loud cracking sound, and Ethan loosened his grip on you. You had shattered his nose.
With great regret, you reached behind you and pulled the knife out of your back. A pained groan slipped past your lips as you did so.
You just broke his nose and that bastard dared to smile at you.
You raised the knife over your head and charged at him while screaming.
All of the sudden, Quinn jumped out from nowhere and threw herself on you, efficiently throwing you off balance.
Both of you went tumbling into a display; the broken glass rained all around you.
"Fuck." You seethed, standing upright from where you had fallen. Your head was throbbing.
You were definitely bleeding through your bandage.
Quinn recovered as quickly as you did; She was standing across from you with her hair in a tangled mess and knife at her side.
"You were my best friend!" You hollered, gripping your knife tightly.
"Oh, get over it already!" She shouted back, then she rushed at you.
You crouched right when she reached you, grabbed her legs, and lifted her over your shoulder.
She thrashed around like a rabid animal, her feet kicking at nothing.
But the victory wasn't all yours.
Quinn managed to stab your shoulder blade before you body-slammed her onto the floor.
Her cries of agony were music to your ears.
You stood over her, breathing heavily. You contemplated how to make your revenge taste sweeter.
"Come on, Tara!"
Your attention was diverted to the Carpenter sisters trying to climb their way up a ladder.
Your worse nightmare was turning into reality.
You watched in paralyzing fear as the ladder gave out, and Tara didn't fall only because Sam caught her by the hand.
Your girlfriend dangled helplessly from the rafters, and a murderer was circling at her feet like a shark. Ethan was counting on her to fall so he could end her life.
No way in hell you were going to stand and let that happen.
"I'll be able to finally stick something in you, Tara!" Ethan called out.
You thought he was a depraved freak, but that was a creepy ass comment, even for him.
You took off running. All while keeping an eye on Tara and making sure you weren’t going to be too late to save her.
You dove and tackled Ethan away from Tara, moments before she could land in harm's way of his sharp blade.
"She's my girlfriend, asshole!" You delivered a punch to his face.
And man, it did feel good.
This part didn't.
A sick squelching sound came from your body as Ethan stabbed you in the stomach.
Twice.
Three times.
A fourth time.
And again. Over and over.
You stared into Ethan's soulless eyes, your mouth agape.
Blood was building up from your throat and into your mouth. Warmth was slowly abandoning your body, and you were frozen, wondering when it would stop. If he was going to stop.
His maniacal laughter echoed in your ears.
Now you realized exactly how Chad had felt.
You squeezed your eyes shut, waiting for the fate of death to finally strike you. This is it. This was the end of the line for you.
At least Tara was safe. That's all you wanted.
But she would be losing you.
"Tara..." You gasped.
Ethan sharply twisted the knife in your stomach when you mentioned her name. You winced, letting out one last mournful cry.
You grasped at his arm, but the blood loss made you exponentially weak and incapable of causing significant damage to your assailant.
Your eyes flew open at the tearing of flesh, and you half expected to see your intestines on the floor.
Instead, Ethan was choking on a knife. Literally. He was stabbed through the roof of his mouth.
You lifted your head to see who saved you. Tara loomed over Ethan, with blood splatters all over her face, looking rightfully pissed off.
And hot.
Your eyes widened in awe at the beautiful woman before you. Something churned in your gut, and it wasn't because of your stab wounds.
You pushed your carnal fascination aside to analyze later. If you survived, that is.
Ethan gurgled, and your attention left Tara for a second so you could relish in his pained expression. It was his turn to plead like a little bitch.
You heard laughter, and it wasn't coming from Ethan. Tara's grin was indecipherable as she chuckled lowly and sheathed the knife further into his jaw.
A tiny voice of concern was in the back of your mind. Maybe, just maybe, she was enjoying this too much.
But you couldn't lie. It affected you: her heavy-lidded eyes, the snarl on her lips, and how she chose the most violent approach to save you.
There was a certain aura of possessiveness masquerading as rage behind her actions.
She let Ethan suffer for a little longer before ripping the knife out of his mouth.
Some of his blood landed on your face, and finally, he crumpled weakly to the floor. Somehow, you kept yourself from falling with him, but he had let go of the knife in your stomach shortly after he was stabbed by Tara.
You let your eyes trail up Tara's body until you reached her face, and your eyes met.
You swallowed nervously.
She gazed at you intensely with a dark look; The knife glistened with blood as it was raised.
Was there something about her past that you didn't know? Something that could snap and make her capable of killing you?
You didn't like having these thoughts about her. This was the girl you loved. And she was a victim, not the mastermind.
However, if her trauma went untreated...
Exhaling, Tara tossed the knife aside, and it clattered on the floor. She outstretched her hand, the softness you recognized returning to her eyes as she regarded you with concern. "Can you stand?"
You pressed your hand tenderly against your stomach to calm the bleeding from your wounds while avoiding the knife Ethan left in you. One slight movement had numerous shocks of pain shooting up your spine.
Biting your lip, your eyes filled with tears as you stared up at her and shook your head.
Realization crossed her features, her expression growing pitiful.
A gunshot ran out from the rafters. Sam's voice was barely audible. Since you didn't have a confrontation with Detective Bailey, you assumed he was the last one standing and that Sam was the one confronting him.
"Come on."
Before you could protest, Tara stepped around Ethan's body, slung your arm over her shoulder, and wrapped her arm around your waist.
"Wait-" You drew in a sharp breath as you were forced upright; your wounds were stretched, making them ache and burn. "Shit."
Tara grunted. She tried her best to carry you while you were propped up against her, but she was having trouble walking.
"You're limping." You stated. You felt guilty for weighing her down like this. "Tara..."
"Don't." She snapped; her breathing was shortened. "If you think I'm dropping you. Think again because I'm not."
You opened your mouth to argue, but Sam screaming made both of you look up.
Your eyes widened in horror at Sam's falling body. She wasn't the only one thrown over the rafters; Detective Bailey was too.
You and Tara flinched as Sam and the detective landed in a memorial of the Ghostface killings and destroyed it.
Glass spilled out onto the floor.
You looked over at Tara. She was flabbergasted and open-mouthed, staring at her sister's unconscious body resting on broken shards of glass and other materials.
She didn't move, but you knew she needed to check on her sister. In the end, the only family they had was each other.
Tara might've had a friend group and you, but Sam didn't let anyone in because of her fucked up father's history and her psycho ex-boyfriend. That's why she was so protective of her younger sister.
Tara was all she had.
It took some time, but after Tara had convinced you that it would be easier for her to help Sam after she knew you were safe, she carried you into one of the backrooms.
Not the room where Chad... neither of you could stomach that.
She helped maneuver you into a sitting position on the floor. You sighed in relief when your back rested on a wall.
She placed her hand on the wall and crouched to your eye level. "I'm going to see if Sam is okay. It shouldn't take long, alright? I've called an ambulance, so they should get here soon. You're going to be fine."
You smiled weakly. She was being sweet and more careful than usual because you were bleeding out and dying, but regardless, she made you forget how much pain you were in.
She gave you a small smile in return and turned to leave.
You reached out and grasped her arm before she could go.
She stopped, looking at you curiously.
"I..." You could barely complete your sentence. "Love you."
She smiled wide this time, and her tired eyes seemed to shine from happiness. "Tell me later."
Then, Tara briskly walked out to save her sister. You were left alone, wondering if she would return to you safely.
“Y/n!”
The paramedics wheeled you on a stretcher out of the creepy Ghostface memorial slash abandoned theatre. It was now a huge murder scene.
You had an oxygen mask over your nose and mouth that helped you breathe.
You were so high on morphine and painkillers, and it was fucking great because you deserved that euphoric feeling after the events you just went through.
Tara jogged up to the stretcher. The paramedics stopped so she could chat with you.
“Hey.” You said tiredly, unable to change your facial expression because you were doped up. It felt awkward to smile.
But you were extremely happy to be alive with Tara.
“Hey stranger,” She was in a good enough mood for jokes, doing the smile that revealed her dimples. “Remember, when you told me you loved me?”
“Hmm?” You answered noncommittally.
“I knew it. You are so high.” Tara laughed.
She understood because she had been through Ghostface attacks before.
And she survived again.
This time, she had you.
“I am so high.” You agreed, smiling slightly behind the oxygen mask.
Tara tentatively lifted the mask off, and you look over at her, puzzled.
You were surprised when she tugged you in for a kiss. It was slow and tender with the perfect amount of desperation.
“We got another one here!”
You broke apart from the kiss at the same time Tara did. Both of you turned your heads and saw Chad being wheeled out the same way you were.
You were matching with him. He looked in pretty bad shape, the same as you.
He was parked beside you, and Tara immediately addressed the elephant in the room, ”How are you alive??”
You had the same reaction.
”Core four!” Chad’s yell was muffled. He pumped his fist in the air like an idiot.
Tara glanced at you with a mischievous look in her eyes. “Core five! For y/n.”
“That doesn’t rhyme, though.” Chad complained halfheartedly.
Sam walked up to the three of you with a smile.
She placed her hands on Tara’s shoulders and spoke directly to you. “Thank you for taking care of my sister and fighting alongside us. It was very brave.”
“Apology accepted for accusing me.” You smiled to show that you were joking.
“If we’re accepting apologies…” Your attention was focused on Mindy shyly walking towards you as if you were going to hurl something at her.
“After being stabbed 10 times, I’m over that. Trust me.” You said truthfully, then added in a more lighthearted tone, “But you’re forgiven.”
Mindy was visibly relieved, then she immediately changed topics. “I can’t believe I missed the monologue again!”
You nodded in agreement.
You would’ve loved to see Detective Bailey quivering in fear as he had his ass handed to him, but you knew Tara would tell you all the details later.
Poor Mindy, though. She missed the entire final act.
The oxygen mask was placed back on your face with care. Tara turned back to look at Sam. “Can we ride with y/n to the hospital?”
She was asking for permission.
Sam was caught off guard and torn between Tara’s hopeful tone. She thought about it for a moment, and conceded.
“If they’ll let us.” She said with a smile.
