━━━━━━━━┛ ✶ ┗━━━━━━━━

𝙑𝙊𝙇𝙐𝙈𝙀 𝑰𝑰. ── CASUALTY OF YOUR DREAMS!

❛ 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒑𝒓𝒊𝒄𝒆 𝒐𝒇 𝒗𝒆𝒏𝒈𝒆𝒂𝒏𝒄𝒆 ❜
─── chapter nineteen! ❫

❪ 𝚃𝚆 ⠀ : ⠀⠀ 𝙶𝚁𝙰𝙿𝙷𝙸𝙲 𝚅𝙸𝙾𝙻𝙴𝙽𝙲𝙴,
𝙶𝙾𝚁𝙴, 𝚆𝙴𝙰𝙿𝙾𝙽𝚂, ⠀𝙳𝙴𝙿𝙸𝙲𝚃𝙸𝙾𝙽𝚂
𝙾𝙵  ⠀   𝙱𝙻𝙾𝙾𝙳 ⠀  𝙰𝙽𝙳  ⠀  𝙳𝙴𝙰𝚃𝙷. ❫

019. ╱ ✹ ⠀⠀ ❝ dug yourself a grave,
no surprise. . . should've known better,
so now, it's time that you die in it. ❞

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

     "BACK TO ONE... YOUR FATHER'S." Detective Bailey held Billy Loomis' Ghostface mask out to Sam. The face was turning yellow at the edges and was no longer white. It was a dirty grey, and it was splintered with cracks. "This is what we've been counting down to, Sam."

     Sam repeatedly glanced from the mask to Bailey and back to the mask. Her lips were parted, and she wore a disgusted expression. He couldn't be serious. This family was sick and twisted.

     "I'm gonna need you to put it on."

     From behind the older woman, Kynlee and Tara's fingers intertwined and they watched silently. Their eyes went from the mask to the woman, waiting for her to react.

     Abruptly, Sam took the brick in her right hand and swung it. "Fuck you!" Billy's mask went flying and Bailey growled, waving his hand to alleviate the stinging sensation.

     Jumping forward, Ethan swiped his knife through the air and cut into Sam's upper right arm. "Ooh!" A long gash appeared and blood poured. Sam gasped and stumbled into the girls, grasping onto the cut. Kynlee and Tara let go of one another and caught her.

     Bailey's laughter filled the theater.

     "You stay the fuck away from her!" Tara screamed, pulling her sister behind her this time.

     Kynlee moved on instinct and stood in front of the Carpenter sisters protectively. Right as she did so, Ethan and Quinn leaped forward. In unison, they slashed their knives across each of her upper arms. In response, she hissed in pain and hunched over a bit.

     "Don't fucking touch them!" Tara shrieked, grabbing onto the tattooed girl and bringing her closer. "Hey, it's going to be okay," she whispered, grimacing at the crimson liquid rushing down her sister and best friend's arms.

     Bailey scoffed at the dramatics, "Oh, come on."

     "What?" Sam spun on her heel to face the man, holding onto the cut she'd received. "What is this? You did this as a family?" She glanced over at the siblings who were circling the three.

     Grinding her teeth together, Quinn marched toward them. "Hell yeah, bitch!" she snapped, her blade outstretched. At the movement, Tara placed herself in front of Kynlee. Her arms were extended, keeping her from moving. "You should know better than anyone."

     Wincing, Kynlee squeezed her eyes shut for a split second. She reopened them when Ethan laughed, "They're still not getting it!"

     "Getting what?!" she retaliated, letting her hands fall to her sides. "How all of you are beyond fucked in the goddamn head?! I think we know that now."

     Ethan swept his gaze up and down her figure, lingering on the blood coating her arms and on her chest under her collarbone. The sight of her painted red made his heart race.

     The only reason she survived last night was because seeing her in pain had taken his breath away. Both literally and figuratively. He knew he had a crush on her but never overthought it. In the grand scheme of things, it didn't matter. None of them planned on leaving survivors, and that included Kynlee Manral. However, something had come over him, and he wanted her all to himself. That's why he'd hidden her— he wanted to be the one to kill her. Right now, she looked pretty, but she was going to look beautiful when he was done with her.

     There had been a slight hiccup in his plan, though. Quinn had caught him hiding her body, so his family knew she was there. He was supposed to kill her when he arrived, not hide her. So when Quinn saw him and told their dad, his plans were spoiled. Now it was up to him to ensure Kynlee was his to kill.

     "Look, I don't know what you believe, but I didn't commit those murders in Woodsboro," Sam protested, darting her eyes between Ethan and Quinn. They were standing side by side, knives facing the trio. "It wasn't me!" She pivoted toward the detective.

     Scoffing, Bailey rolled his eyes. "Oh, we know that. Of course, you didn't. What do you think, this is based on some bullshit conspiracy theory? Come on. Who do you think started the rumors about you in the first place?!" He motioned to his daughter and jutted his chin in her direction.

     Quinn raised her hand proudly when all attention landed on her, waving her blade. Droplets of blood fell to the floor, staining the carpet. "Do you know," she giggled gleefully, "how easy it was to turn Sam from the hero of Woodsboro into the villain? How easy it is to convince the world to believe the worst in people rather than the best?"

     "Because it's not enough to just kill someone these days." The way Ethan spoke made it seem like killing was some diminutive act that meant nothing. "You have to assassinate their character first. So when Dad here "discovers" your horribly mutilated bodies..."

     Jumping at her ex-roommate and friend with her crimson blade, Quinn laughed at the reaction. Tara took four steps back with Kynlee, gasping, while the latter flipped her off.

     "...posed with Sam wearing her father's mask, he'll say some poor dumb bastard read on the Internet that you're the real Ghostface and took matters into their own deluded hands."

     "Exactly!" Bailey exclaimed happily. "That's why it's the perfect alibi." Quinn and Ethan nodded in agreement. "And all the best lies are based on the truth."

     Kynlee snorted. "Ain't that the fucking truth," she stared at the siblings with distaste. "The three of you are poor, dumb, deluded bastards."

     Screaming, the redhead charged forward and wielded her knife back. "Fuck you!" She shoved Tara into Sam and plunged the blade through the red bandage and into the wound her brother had given Kynlee under her collarbone. Not wasting a single millisecond, she twisted it.

     Kynlee let out a cry and almost crumpled to her knees. Tears involuntarily welled in her eyes, and she clenched them shut. This hurt almost as bad as when Amber stabbed her torso last year.

     "NO!" Tara screamed, rushing over with her sister.

     Sam threw out a fist, striking Quinn in the face with the brick she held. "Don't fucking touch her!" The girl groaned and stumbled back, effectively jerking the knife out of Kynlee and running into Ethan.

     "K, I got you. I got you," Tara reassured Kynlee. She held her from behind with her hands pressed down on the reopened wound. Her vision was muddled, but she could still make out the enraged expression on the redhead's face and how blood was leaking from her mouth.

     "Hey! Stop it! Stop!" Bailey screamed, waving his hands in the air. "We're not done," he gave his children a look, silently telling them to wait. They huffed, begrudgingly complying. "Samantha, you're a killer. Just like your father," he fired a trembling finger at the woman in question.

     Shaking her head, Sam placed a palm on Kynlee's waist to steady her. "No, I'm not!" she protested, sick and tired of everyone believing that about her.

     Quinn spat out another mouthful of blood and pushed her brother away. "Yes, you are, you motherfucker! You killed our brother!" Her voice had cracked and a rigid silence followed her statement. There were tears in her eyes, and her face was bright red with a hint of purple creeping along the right side.

     Grasping his knife tighter, Ethan took a step closer.

     "What are you talking about?" Sam breathed, frantically darting her stare between the killers.

     Letting out a cough, Kynlee answered, "Richie. They're talking about Richie. He's the only person you've killed."

     "You sweet, dumb things," Ethan cooed, gesturing at the Carpenter sisters with his blade. "You can hardly keep up. Kyn's got to do all the work for you."

     A sarcastic smile and middle finger were shot his way.

     A rush of dread flooded her nervous system, and Sam blanched. "You're Richie's family..." she whispered, swallowing harshly. Fuck.

     Bailey nodded weakly, seemingly choking up. "Yeah."

     "Ding-ding-ding-ding! She's finally starting to get it," Ethan laughed loudly, striking his knife into the same spot he'd stabbed Kynlee, but under Sam's right collarbone. A sinister smirk lined his cheeks.

     Gasping, Sam grabbed at her shoulder while Tara shoved the Nancy Loomis display and mannequin over. Glass shattered on the floor and Nancy's Ghostface mask flew toward the stage. "Go, go, go!" Tara ordered, tugging her sister and Kynlee with her.

     The three leaped over the furniture and made it a few feet when Ethan and Quinn showed up on either side. They were boxing them in again, twirling their knives in the air.

     It was two against three.

     Only Sam and Tara wielded some sort of weapon to defend themselves. Kynlee, on the other hand, had nothing. This realization quickly dawned on her, and she groaned lowly. "¡Ay, Dios mío!" At least she was standing between the pair.

     "Now!" Bailey pointed at the black-haired women. "It wasn't until I saw that photograph of what you'd actually done to him that I knew— that I knew you had to fucking die! You had to be punished! Along with anyone else who stands in our way."

     Quinn and Sam were facing off while Ethan was staring Tara down. Kynlee was in the middle, watching the detective.

     As she processed the confession given to them, Sam lifted her eyes off the ground, and her eyebrows dropped. A murderous glare took over her features, and she met Quinn's unlucky gaze.

     Noticing the seething rage and pure hatred in the woman's eyes, Quinn's chin upturned. "There she is," she mused, walking until they were a foot away apart. With the tip of her knife, she lifted Sam's head up. Then, she brought the blade to her throat and began to pace around her. "There's the fucking killer." Sam followed her movement, not once breaking eye contact.

     Kynlee and Tara felt Sam bump into them.

     "Real great parenting job, by the way," the youngest Carpenter remarked, looking the detective dead in the eyes.

     "They all turned out to be as psychotic as you," Kynlee added, feeling sweat trickling down the sides of her forehead. The anticipation of what was to come was stressing her out.

     Kynlee's words seemed to add flame to the fire when Quinn retaliated. "Shut your whore fucking mouth!" Her palms pressed into Sam's chest and Kynlee's shoulder. She drove them backward before shoving the three into the center of the shrine.

     "Shit!" Tara almost fell into a glass case but caught herself in time. There was a pile of bricks a few feet ahead, and she grabbed an extra one.

     "Chingada madre," Kynlee cursed, clutching onto Sam to keep from falling. They briefly locked arms and stabilized their footing.

     Sam reached out with the bloodied hand that'd been holding the gash on her arm. "You okay?" she asked her sister, drawing her away from the glass case.

     Tara nodded and readjusted her grip on the brick she'd been holding. She didn't say anything or glance at Kynlee when she pressed the extra brick into her hands. Not a word was exchanged.

     "Have I been a perfect Dad? No," Bailey admitted, shrugging. The group turned to him with matching scowls. "Have I maybe overindulged in Richie's love of these little movies?" His line of sight bounced from one woman to the next, pausing on Kynlee's deadpan stare. "Yeah, maybe. For me, they're just a little dark."

     Yeah, sure.

     Kynlee scoffed and rolled her eyes, glancing at the brick she'd been given.

     "But... Richie really loved them. He loved them!" Bailey blinked back the rising waterworks. "He even made a few of his own. Did you know? Did you know?"

     A young Richie Kirsch appeared on the ripped, grey tarp hanging above the stage. It'd been so long since the survivors had seen him in something other than a picture. He was speaking to a camera, staring directly at the lens. The background seemed to be one of a college dorm, but it was difficult to tell.

     "So you guys think that I didn't post a holiday special. Well, I tried to, okay? I really did try..."

      The sound of his voice set Kynlee's teeth on edge. She absolutely hated it and hated him.

     Bailey walked up the stairs to the stage; his attention was glued to his oldest son's face. He missed him more and more each day. Tonight was about him and avenging his death.

     "There's a very special bond between a father and his first son."

     It happened before Kynlee could stop it, but a quiet chuckle escaped her. "Goddamn," she muttered, glimpsing over her shoulder. "That's got to be a bitch... Sorry, Ethan," she whispered, winking when he met her amused expression.

     A small smirk danced its way onto her lips, and Tara had to suppress the urge to laugh.

     Ethan's face twisted in pain, and he moved to stab the tattooed girl, but he saw his dad glowering at him. If he fucked this up and ruined this moment, there'd be hell to pay. So, he shrank back and resumed his position behind Sam.

     "Which is why I helped him build this collection."

     Sam surveyed the shrine another time, taking into account how much evidence had been collected from the Ghostface attacks over the years. It was a lot. "This was all his?" she asked wearily.

     "Yes," Bailey answered as if it were obvious, "he's a very passionate collector. And he inspired others. Ah, we had to kill those two wannabe film students because, well, we had to kill you first, Sam. I put the theater in their name, then good old Detective Bailey would've just stumbled on it, but I didn't have to because, by golly, that Gale Weathers is one hell of a journalist."

     In unison, the three bruised and bloodied women blinked.

     "I built a tribute to my son. Which is why this is where you have to die, Sam, surrounded by all the things he loved the most."

     Sam wanted to laugh, but she didn't. "What happens next? What? After you're done with us, what, you just disappear?"

     Waving a dismissive hand, the man began to descend on the stairs. "No!" he exclaimed, approaching everyone. "We got to hurry over to the hospital and make sure Mindy and Gale don't pull through." The trio glanced at each other and gripped their bricks, conversing with only slight eye and head movements. They were getting ready. "Because everybody dies, Sam!" Bailey stopped in front of Sam and raised his gun.

     The action made Kynlee and Tara falter, their eyes wide. There were less than two feet separating the lethal weapon and Sam.

     "Everyone who had anything to do with the death of my son suffers and dies," Bailey seethed, practically shaking with rage. His children immediately agreed with him.

     "Yeah!"

     "Fuck yeah, they do!"

     Bailey composed himself and aimed the gun at Sam's forehead. "Now put on the mask," he growled, uttering each word slowly and dragging out the sentence.

     Sam's gaze averted to the weapon. All the possible ways she could get them out of this were coursing through her mind. None were great, but she had to settle on something that gave her sister and Kynlee the best shot at surviving.

     "He was..." she eventually sighed, shaking her head, "so pathetic."

     It was unclear whether this was Sam finally snapping or she had a plan unbeknownst to Kynlee and Tara. Either way, neither of them disagreed with her. It was absolutely true.

     A soft scoff came from the detective, and he peeked at his other children's reactions. "What? That's not true." Both of them were equally as confused yet offended.

     "Yeah, your son," Sam confirmed, tilting her head and mockingly pouting, "he was a man-baby who made his girlfriend do all the killing."

     At the mention of Amber, Kynlee unconsciously clenched her jaw and swallowed harshly. Now, however, she and Tara were able to see where Sam was going with this antagonizing.

     Disrespecting Richie was enough to provoke Quinn into doing something impulsive, and that was a weakness they could abuse. Then, attacking his sister was enough to provoke Ethan into inserting himself in the fight. They could use that, too.

     Each of them had a weakness, and it was up to the trio to say and do whatever it took to survive.

     The gun he held swayed violently, and Bailey defended his son. "He was a strong, virile young man!"

     "He was a limp-dick little fuck who cried before I slit his throat."

     Shrieking, Quinn made the move they suspected she would. "Shut the fuck up!" Before she could do any damage and stab Sam, Tara did a one-eighty and swung the brick across her face. More blood spewed from her mouth and she was sent to the ground. A few of her teeth were knocked loose, and the redhead coughed, spitting them out.

     Out of nowhere, a gunshot rang throughout the room. Nobody saw where it came from at first. The bullet soared through the air, grazing the side of Kynlee's left arm and striking Bailey in the chest. He toppled to the ground at the force of the hit while Kynlee yelped. She stumbled into the mannequin dressed in Jill Roberts' final outfit, effectively knocking it over. She grasped onto her arm in pain, watching as more blood leaked through her fingers.

     "What the fuck?!" she shouted, turning her head to see that Kirby had somehow survived the gunshot wounds from Bailey.

     Tara seized the opportunity and began running to the ladder that led to the second-floor balcony. "Sam! K! Come on!" It wasn't until she wrapped her hand around the metal poles that she realized nobody had followed her. Whipping her head around, she gulped at the scene.

     Bailey and Quinn were on the ground, one unconscious while the other was hacking up their own blood and teeth. Ethan had tackled Kirby to the ground and stabbed her, laughing in her face. Behind him, Sam was sprinting with a brick and bashed him in the head. He fell to the side, leaving Sam to talk with the F.B.I. agent. Lastly, Kynlee was leaning on a glass case and blood was spilling from her arms and chest. The crimson liquid slid down the sides of the rectangular box, and she was blinking rapidly. The room was spinning just a tad. That was probably due to blood loss.

     "Kynlee!" Tara ditched the ladder and sped to her best friend's side. Once one of her arms was situated around her shoulders and she held onto her waist, Tara led them back to the ladder. "Sam!" she called, making eye contact with her sister.

     Sam had Ethan pinned to a theater seat with a knife plunged into his chest, ready to finish him off. Although, when she saw the state the pair were in, she nodded. She needed to get them out of there.

     "Okay, you go first," Tara said, bringing her attention to the tattooed girl.

     Immediately, she shook her head. "No, absolutely not. I already left Mindy tonight; I'm not leaving you, too. T, you're going first." She tossed her brick to the side.

     Naturally, the black-haired girl tried to argue her way out of it but stopped when she was almost shoved into the fixture. Time was running out. "Fine, fine," she muttered in defeat, climbing the ladder at lightning speed.

     "Sam, you're next," Kynlee instructed as the woman joined her. Sam opened her mouth to protest. "Sammy, I fucking love you, but we don't have time for this shit. Get your fucking ass up that goddamn ladder!"

     There was no use in arguing. Kynlee was right and they needed to go.

     So Sam begrudgingly obliged and raced up the metal fixture.

     It was supposed to be Kynlee's turn next, but she never made it. Instead of following, she was stopped by the feeling of something sharp and cold piercing through her shirt and pants and slicing through her skin. Quinn's horrific, bloodied face popped up on the other side of the ladder. Her hand had shot through the gaps in the metal bars, and she'd plunged her knife into Kynlee's hip.

     Choking out a gasp, Kynlee collapsed against the ladder when the blade was extracted. A rush of blood flowed down her pants, and she gulped.

     Not wasting time, Quinn rounded the fixture and grabbed onto the Manral girl's arms. She dug her nails deep into the cuts she and her brother had carved and yanked Kynlee away from the closest exit.

     An ear-piercing scream filled the room, and the Carpenter sisters flinched. In unison, they peered down to see that Kynlee never made it upstairs. No. The color drained from their faces.

     "Go!" Tara ordered, pushing her sister back toward the ladder. "Go, go, go."

     The pair had to maneuver around bundles of furniture to get near the exit on the second floor. It'd been tricky and involved walking across the outer edge of the balcony, but they'd done it once. They could do it again. They would do it.

     Sam went first and tried to move as fast as possible. Tara was right behind her.

     Meanwhile, Bailey had gained consciousness and fled. He was headed straight for the stairs. Ethan was on the ground, searching for Jill Roberts' knife, not remembering how Sam had taken it. Kirby was in and out of consciousness with blood pouring from her body.

     The noise of glass shattering and a body thudding filled the theater, and the sisters glanced down again.

     Quinn had driven Kynlee into the center of the shrine, gripping her arms so harshly that Kynlee's knees were buckling under the pressure. Then, without warning, Quinn had pushed her backward and kicked her in the chest. Kynlee crashed into one of the glass cases and crumpled. The action happened so fast that she hadn't processed what happened until a shard sliced her cheek.

     "I thought it was really sweet..." Quinn said, taking a single step forward, "How you attacked Ghostface— well, my brother— last night in my name. Fake name, actually. I was touched."

     Propping herself up with her elbows, Kynlee didn't wince when she felt glass tear into her skin. "Fuck you," she growled, narrowing her eyes into slits.

     A gunshot rang out and someone yelped. The two looked to see Tara hanging midair and holding onto Sam's hand for dear life. Ethan stood below, trying to cut any part of her he could reach. Sobs echoed around the room, and Kynlee's breath hitched.

     No. Not today.

     "Tara!" Kynlee tried to get to her feet, but Quinn was quick. A black boot slammed into her chest, and she was knocked back down.

     "You know... I've heard a lot of stories about you, Kynni."

     At the usage of the nickname Amber had coined for her when they were dating, Kynlee froze. It'd been over a year since she last heard it uttered. Everybody knew never to call her that, and the only people aware of that nickname were her family.

     "Oh, yeah," Quinn watched the realization dawn on her and smirked. "Amber had a lot to say about you when she dated Rich. Of course, we didn't know her that long, but she made an impression. She had a way about her. She was—"

     "A psychotic, blood-thirsty bitch who decided to kill off her friends and strangers like they meant nothing for a movie franchise that won't matter in fifty goddamn years." Kynlee finished through gritted teeth. In the background, she could see Tara and Sam struggling to hold on.

     Quinn's face darkened. "She was one of us," she corrected, taking two steps.

     Out of the corner of her eye, the tattooed girl noticed that a knife had fallen out of the broken case. If she could extend her arm far enough, she could grab it. There was also Tara's brick that she'd dropped earlier. Then, a few feet off to the side was the drawing of Amber, and it didn't take more than a second for Kynlee to know that was her ex-girlfriend's blade.

     How fitting.

     "Tonight isn't just about avenging my brother," the redhead placed each foot on either side of Kynlee and dropped down, straddling her. "Not for me, at least." She raised her knife high in the air, ready to strike it through the girl's heart. "This is as much for Richie as it is for Amber!"

     "NO!"

     Ethan's voice bounced off the walls, and Quinn glanced in his direction with a glare. The knife wavered and she almost let her arms fall to her sides. "Handle Tara, dumbass. I've got Kynlee," she snapped, well aware that wasn't a response he'd like.

     Since she was distracted, Kynlee took advantage of the moment and managed to grab the brick.

     "No!" Ethan repeated, marching over and abandoning his post under Tara. Sweat was trickling down his face and his curls were sticking to his forehead. Heavy breaths tumbled from his mouth. "We agreed that she's mine."

     Quinn laughed and grinned widely, showing off how many teeth she had missing. "We," she gestured between them, "didn't agree on anything. You're just obsessed with the idea of killing her, and you need to get over it. I've got this."

     "NO!" A thud reverberated when the brown-haired boy stomped his foot.

     Raising both of her eyebrows, Kynlee wanted to laugh. This was getting pitiful now. Was Ethan really about to throw a tantrum over not getting to kill her? She didn't know if she should be flattered or creeped out.

     Another thud could be heard, but it was more faint this time. Tara had successfully landed on the ground and was gripping the knife Sam gave her. She peered around Ethan's figure and made eye contact with Kynlee. They both saw the other's weapon and knew this was the time to strike.

     On the top floor, Bailey and Sam were conversing.

     Tara pulled her arm back and tilted her chin up. "Hey, shy boy!" she shouted, capturing Ethan's attention.

     That was the cue.

     Kynlee decided not to say anything and just went for it. She swung her arm up and bashed the brick into the side of Quinn's head. The force knocked Quinn back and she hit her again, adrenaline fueling her actions. She sat up and shoved Quinn into a blanket of glass, ignoring how she was moaning in agony.

     Not a single ache could be felt. Nothing was holding her back now, and Kynlee mimicked the stance the killer had previously. Her legs were on either side of her body, and she acted on instinct.

     The brick came falling down and collided with Quinn's face. Bones could be heard breaking, and Kynlee pulled the brick away to only see a broken nose. She wanted more than that. So, she struck again and again, growing angrier every time.

     All she could feel was undeniable fury. The faces of Anika, Chad, and Mindy were all she could think of. Yes, Mindy wasn't dead, but she almost was at Quinn's hand. Not to mention, Quinn murdered Chad and that warranted a lot more than a fucking broken nose.

     Finally, she found enough self-control to stop. It wasn't because she wanted to— it was because Quinn had released her knife. The act of stabbing the redhead was much more appealing.

     The brick she bore was soaked in blood and Kynlee idily tossed it aside. There was no use for it now. In one fell swoop, she grabbed the fallen knife and took Amber's too for her own satisfaction. There was something oddly poetic about using her ex-girlfriend's knife to end this horror movie.

     Looming over Quinn, they made direct eye contact until she broke it with her head lolling to the side. The girl was very much still alive, but barely hanging on. Her face was distorted and almost unrecognizable. Not an inch of her skin wasn't painted red, and some of it had been ripped off. Her nose was busted beyond repair and she could scarcely open one eye. Her lip was bleeding profusely and more of her teeth were gone.

     "So..." Kynlee whispered, using the edge of Amber's blade to turn Quinn's head back toward her. She wanted to ensure she had her undivided attention for the next part. "Are you ready?" An eyebrow quirked and she tilted her head innocently.

     A dark glare attempted to take over Quinn's facial features. "Amber... she would have been impressed," she choked, coughing out blood.

     "I really don't fucking care," the tattooed girl replied bluntly, bringing the blade to her neck. "Que te jodan, perra." Those were the last words she ever spoke to the Freeman girl, and some of the last she'd say to Quinn.

     Kynlee pushed the knife firmly onto her neck. One wrong move and the redhead's throat was slit. For good measure, though, she positioned Quinn's own knife against her throat, too. There was a weapon in each hand, prepared to cut in opposite directions.

     "This is for Anika and Chad, whore."

     Quinn's quivering lips curled into what was meant to be a snarl. "I-I didn't even kill her... you fucking bitch."

     "True," Kynlee murmured, leaning down until their noses brushed, "but you stabbed my best friend, killed my boyfriend, and tried to kill Gale, so... I'm calling this justice." Then, before Quinn could make one last snarky remark, Kynlee took the blades and sliced them across her throat.

     Immediately, blood splattered everywhere and painted Kynlee's face and body. Sounds of gurgling and Quinn choking on her own blood filled her eardrums. She was red in the face and convulsing against the bed of glass with her eyes open. She and Kynlee were locked in a never-ending staring match that Kynlee was taking great satisfaction in. A few seconds passed until all the noise came to a stop. The rise and fall of Quinn's chest halted and she stilled.

     There was no time to breathe or process what just happened. Out of nowhere, Sam and Detective Bailey fell from the second floor and crashed to the ground.

     Flinching at the abruptness, Kynlee looked over her shoulder and dropped the knives. The detective was knocked out cold while Sam was gradually sitting up with a hand pressed to the back of her head.

     "Fuck," the eldest Carpenter grumbled, grimacing at the throbbing pain she felt. Her entire body was sore and she felt like she'd been body-slammed.

     Kynlee glanced at Tara to check if she was still in one piece. Thankfully, she was. Similar to Kynlee, she was coated in blood and panting. Her knife was lodged in Ethan's mouth and he was on his knees, choking on his own blood. His body shook and she yanked the knife out, kicking him to the floor.

     "Sam!" Tara gasped, rushing over with the blade still in her hand.

     "Are you okay?" Kynlee pushed off of Quinn's dead body and joined the sisters. They all held hands for a moment, taking a breath.

     Nodding, Sam allowed them to help her up. "Yeah, I'm good," she reassured her, still grimacing the slightest. "His gun is right there."

     Kynlee and Tara followed the direction she'd jutted her chin in. Next to another glass case was the man's gun.

     "Always got to shoot them in the fucking head," Sam reminded them, watching Kynlee go to pick it up.

     With purpose fueling each step she took, the tattooed girl returned to Quinn's unmoved frame. "Coño," she stated before pulling the trigger of the gun. The bullet went straight into the killer's forehead and she pivoted to the pair. "Your turn."

     Tara smirked at the outstretched gun and took it. Her knife was thrown to the side. "Finally." She did the same movements Kynlee had and let out a breath of relief when a bullet struck Ethan in the head.

     The gun was then passed to Sam who paused and lingered on Bailey's conscious body. An idea popped into her mind and she inhaled deeply. "I'd kill him now, but I want to fuck with him first," she confessed.

     "What are you thinking?" Kynlee asked, intrigued.

     "Nothing you need to worry about," the black-haired woman said, facing her. "Chad's in the main lobby."

     Tears instantly formed at the news and Kynlee's heart stopped. All color drained from her face and her wide eyes darted between her best friends. "Is... Is he actually..."

     Like earlier, neither knew what to say. Neither wanted to be the one to break her heart. Once the words left their mouths, they couldn't take them back.

     "Kyn, go," Sam insisted, dodging the budding question. "Tara and I got this."

     Recovering as best she could, Kynlee shook her head. "Wait, what? N-No, Bailey's still alive."

     Sam nodded and tucked the girl's hair behind her ears. "Yeah, and we'll take care of him. I promise."

     "Go find Chad," Tara voiced, giving her best friend a gentle yet forced smile. It broke her heart when she uttered her next words. "Maybe he's still alive." In her peripheral vision, she saw Sam shoot her a deadpan expression. They both knew there was no way Chad was alive.

     Kynlee missed the small exchange, and let out a shaky exhale. "Fine, but make it hurt," she said, starting to walk backward.

     "I will," Sam smirked, excited to exact a small dose of revenge. After all, the Kirsch family fucked with her family.

     "Hot."

     Rolling her eyes, Tara pointed at the doors leading to the main lobby. "K, go!"

     Spinning on her heel, Kynlee ran around the shrine and tarps. As she raced through the theater, she tried her best to prepare herself for what she was going to find. However, she knew nothing could ever prepare her to see the love of her life dead. She'd already witnessed him being attacked in the past and had nightmares about that moment and of him dying. That was more than she never asked for, and she didn't want to see him hurt again or dead. But she had to find and see him.

     Barrelling through the double doors, she came to a skidded halt in the lobby. At first, she didn't see anyone, but that changed when she swept her gaze to the right. She felt her entire world shatter into a million pieces in a matter of seconds.

     There, lying on the ground, was an inanimate Chad Meeks-Martin.

     A pool of blood was soaked into the carpet and her Blackmore University hoodie. They'd swapped their college hoodies the other week and he'd been wearing hers since yesterday. And from where she was, she could see multiple stab wounds.

     Fuck.

     "Chad," Kynlee breathed, sprinting over and dropping to the floor next to her boyfriend's bloodied body. "No, no, no, no. Please, no." A trembling, crimson-colored hand covered her mouth and she choked back a sob. Her vision was more muddled than before and she let out a whimper. Shaking her head, she sat up and grabbed him by the shoulders. "Come on, wake up. Wake up, C."

     His body jostled side to side lifelessly as she shook him, pleading for him to wake up or respond. Desperation was laced into every letter, syllable, and word. She was begging the universe to bring him back to her.

     This wasn't how it was supposed to end.

     They were supposed to finish college and go to graduate school. Both of them were going to get their dream jobs (or something relatively close to them) and move into an apartment of their own. They were planning on getting engaged and married, having children, and growing old. They were supposed to have everything.

     "You can't die," Kynlee cried, shaking from head to toe while tears fell down her cheeks. Some of the blood was washing off. "No. Not like this."

     His heartbeat.

     Sniffing, she lowered her ear to his chest and tried to remain silent. If she didn't stop crying, she wouldn't be able to hear anything. So, she held her breath and pulled it together.

     It took longer than she liked and almost sent her into a panic, but she eventually heard a heartbeat. It was faint but it was there.

     It was there, and that's all that mattered.

     "Oh, thank God," she gasped, curling her fingers around the fabric of the hoodie. Opening her mouth to say something else, the sound of police and ambulance sirens arrived. It appeared to be coming from outside the theater, and she choked out a sob of relief. "W-We're going to get you to a hospital, angel. I promise. I've got you," she whispered, kissing Chad's forehead five times and holding on a bit tighter.

     Help was there. Everything was going to be okay.

━━━━━━━━┛ ✶ ┗━━━━━━━━

❝ you know i'm 𝒈𝒐𝒐𝒅 at 𝒌𝒆𝒆𝒑𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒔𝒆𝒄𝒓𝒆𝒕𝒔,
you know that you're my 𝒘𝒆𝒂𝒌𝒏𝒆𝒔𝒔. . .

and i'll 𝒂𝒍𝒘𝒂𝒚𝒔 repeat 𝒊𝒕! ❞

╭⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀╮

¡Ay, Dios mío! ━━ Oh, my God
Chingada madre ━━ Motherfucker
Que te jodan, perra ━━ Screw you,
bitch
Coño ━━ Pussy/Cunt/Fuck

╰⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀╯

     couldn't help but add that lil amber plot twist in the mix with quinn. it's too good (in my opinion, feel free to tell me i'm wrong).

     WE ONLY HAVE ONE MORE CHAPTER LEFT AND THEN WE'RE DONE!!!!

     i'm so sad to be ending this story, but so happy at the same time. i'm content with where these characters leave off, and i hope you are too when the final chapter is out.

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˒⠀𝑹𝑬𝑴𝑰𝑵𝑫𝑬𝑹. . . ▬⠀⤸

Thank you all for taking the time out of your day to comment on this story. It means a lot and helps the story be spread to a broader audience &&& allows me to grow as an author. All I ask is that people vote on each chapter, please. As a creator, it takes time to write and develop stories. So please, vote on every chapter. It means a lot more than I could ever express.

Don't forget to vote & comment!

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˒⠀𝑪𝑶𝑷𝒀𝑹𝑰𝑮𝑯𝑻. . . ▬⠀⤸

❝ All Rights Reserved.
No part of this publication may be
reproduced, distributed, or transmitted
in any form or by any means, including
photocopying, recording, or other
electronic or mechanical methods,
without prior permission of the author,
except in the case of brief quotations
embodied in critical reviews and
other noncommercial uses permitted
by copyright law. ❞

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