ˢᵃᵘᵈᵃᵈᵉ

ethan landry 𝔁 fem! reader
𝕤𝕔𝕣𝕖𝕒𝕞 𝕤𝕚𝕩

❝ i just love it when she runs. ❞

𝐖𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐆𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐭𝐟𝐚𝐜𝐞𝐬' 𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐝, 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐤𝐟𝐮𝐥 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐓𝐚𝐫𝐚 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐒𝐚𝐦. You had suspected Wayne for a while now. I mean, who would have access to all the major items and memorabilia of all the previous killings, even down to the red robe that Stu Macher wore 26 years ago?

Quinn had come as a surprise. She had died right in front of you, her cold body being thrown onto you and Tara as her blood stained your clothes. 

But, no, nothing could have prepared you for the sight of Ethan's grinning face, a crazy glint in his eyes as he zeroed in his gaze on you.

"No..." you mumbled, shaking your head.

"Hello, gorgeous," he taunted with the voice modulator, a whimper escaping your lips as you shook your head.

"This can't be happening."

"Oh, it's happening," Ethan confirmed.

"Why? Why the fuck would you do this?!" you screamed, almost lunging forward if he didn't point the hunting knife at you with a sick smile plastered across his handsome face.

"You know why," he spat out, tilting his head. "You and your bitch friends murdered my brother!"

"I didn't do jack shit!" you countered, before a look of utter confusion came across your face. "Who the fuck is your brother?"

Ethan scoffed, shaking his head, before him and his family monologued. You were shocked at the information that Richie, Sam's ex-boyfriend who had tried to murder you and your friends just last year was their actual brother and the son of Detective Wayne. Their pure hatred for the survivors had spun into an obsession much more deadly.

"And now, all that leaves us here with is you," Wayne said with a smirk. "You are going to pay for what you did to my family. To my first son!"

"Fuck you!" Tara shrieked. 

"Shut up, you slut!" Quinn yelled, moving forward if not for her father stopping her. 

"Not yet," he scolded his daughter, eyes moving across the Carpenter sisters before they landed on you. "Ethan," Wayne sighed, pinching his forehead. "Go, uh, go get her."

"What?" you questioned in a breath.

"Oh, yeah, that reminds me," Ethan spoke up with a lopsided grin. "You're not dying today, baby."

"Wh- What... What are you going to do?"

"You're gonna come with us," he stated rather simply. "After Sam and Tara are killed, the police will pin the deaths on Sam for her psychopathic tendencies had finally stemmed down from her deranged father, further leading to her killing everybody that reminds her of the murders, soon butchering herself." Ethan stepped forward as you took one back, hands flying over one of the glass canisters. "And you, well, you're gonna come with me."

"No..." you murmured.

"Just, come here, Y/N," he beckoned, holding his hand out to you. But you made no move to walk into his inviting arms, staring at him in fear and betrayal. He had murdered everyone you cared for and was soon going to kill the last people you had left. Ethan scowled upon being met with your withering glare, scowling as he soon shouted, "Goddamn it, Y/N, I said come here!"

"NO!" you screamed, spinning around and running off. Sam and Tara exclaimed in slight pride, exhilarated to see you running away, however terror soon flooded their body after hearing the low chuckle of Ethan.

"I just love it when she runs."

Your breaths were heavy and quick as you ran through the old, abandoned cinema. You could hear the heavy footsteps of Ethan chasing after you, and you didn't want to look over your shoulder, afraid to find him closer than you had expected.

Complete and utter betrayal coursed through your body. Ethan had been a significant light in your life ever since the murders from last year. You had come to New York with Sam and Tara, wanting a fresh start, and soon found Ethan. He was shy and awkward around you for a long time, until he started becoming more confident when he realized you shared the same interest in him that he had in you.

But now, when you looked at him, you could only imagine his sick, grinning expression when Ghostface had pinned you down and stabbed your stomach and shoulder, your pained screams echoing through the apartment. And not an hour later, you were wrapped in his strong arms, unassuming as he stroked your hair, whispering sweet nothings in hopes of calming your shuddering form.

A scream escaped your lips when he suddenly appeared to your side, knocking you into the wall. One of the Ghostface's, you didn't know which one, had stabbed you in the thigh, the blood gushing through the dark wash of your jeans.

"It won't do you any good to run, baby," Ethan said.

"Fuck you!" you cried as he leaned over your bloodied body.

"You already did," he taunted, ripping his mask off again. "Oh, baby, don't cry," Ethan cooed, leaning down to thumb the tears falling from your eyes, half-hazardously balancing the knife so that it didn't scratch your face. "It's gonna be fine. You're gonna be with me, forever. Just you and me..."

"No, no..." you cried softly, flinching as his grip on your face tightened.

"Don't fight it," Ethan warned, face suddenly shifting into one of pure anger. "I'll either take you willingly, or I'll drag you out here with a trail of blood to follow."

"Ethan, this isn't you, please," you begged underneath him in a futile attempt. "I know you. You're kind, and you're sweet. The first time you met me, you called me pretty. Fucking pretty. I haven't heard that since the second grade." You watched as Ethan's brows furrowed, pulling into a slight frown. "And then, you took me out on some date at a bowling alley. I thought it was gonna be shit, but you made it incredible. You, Ethan."

"You don't..." Ethan took a deep breath, closing his eyes. "You don't know me..."

"Yes, I do-."

"No, you fucking don't!"

Ethan slammed the knife into your arm in frustration, an agonized screech leaving your mouth from the pain. You cried, an onslaught of tears trickling down your cheeks as you struggled under his hold. 

You bucked your knees up, and the boy grunted as he was kicked off of you, holding onto his stomach as you stumbled to your feet. Running off around the corner, you found your way back into the main auditorium, gasping at the sight of Tara hanging by the second floor as she struggled to follow Sam up. Quinn was swiping at her feet, and she barely didn't take notice of you as you rushed inside. 

Her gaze snapped to yours, a wide grin lifting at her lips as she found a new target. "So, that's where you ran off too, huh? Guess Ethan couldn't convince you to join us."

"Nice fucking guess," you spat, backing away from her. Glancing around, you looked for any type of weapon to use, eyes locking onto a black gun in one of the glass holdings. It was the matte dark gun that Mrs. Loomis had used on Mickey, her Ghost Face partner. 

"What are you gonna do?" Quinn questioned with a tilt of her head. 

"Just try to shoot that smirk of your flat-ass face," you shrugged, before bringing down a piece of crusted wood from the floor and onto the glass, quickly smashing it to pieces. You leaned down, not caring for the glass as it cut your arm, fingers latching around the cold metal of the gun.

Spinning around, you let out an exclaim when Quinn appeared in front of you, swiping the knife at you to which you jumped backwards. Without another thought, you aimed the gun and pulled the trigger, snapping your eyes open as you watched her body fall to the ground, a red hole implanted in her forehead where the bullet sunk in. 

"You fucking bitch."

Turning around, your eyes widened at the sight of Ethan, staring at his sister with an angered face before twisting his cold gaze onto you. 

"Back the fuck up," you hissed when he took a step closer to you, hands tightening on the weapon in your hands. "You kill my friends, nearly try to kill my mother, and you think that you're gonna get away with it?"

"I'm thinking exactly that."

Ethan vaulted towards you so quickly, you had barely enough time to react when he pounced on top of you, the knife landing in the now reopened wound of your stomach, his smile wide and menacing. He pushed the hilt of it deeper, and you let out a cry, teeth clenching. 

"Agh-!"

"Did you really think that you were gonna get away with all this?" he questioned. "I was gonna let you off easy, baby, let you come with me as we became free of fucking Sam and her little group."

"They're my friends too!" you rasped.

"Yeah, and they're dead. I killed Chad. I killed Anika..." As he spoke, you cried, thinking of your dead friends and how they were so underserving of all this. "And now, I'm gonna kill those Carpenter bitches."

"No!"

"Oh, yes!" he grinned, leaning in closer. "And then... Oh, and then, I'm gonna take my sweet time killing you."

"Not if I kill you first."

The sound of a gun firing echoed around the room, and Ethan's eyes widened before glancing down at his stomach. Your hand was at to his chest, whilst the other was delicately holding the gun, training it upward so that it pressed to his belly. 

Ethan groaned, falling to the side and you were quick to slip over his body, kicking the bloodied knife away and holding his arms down with your knees. The gun was drawn to his forehead as you stared down at his face. 

He watched you with tearful eyes, gaze taking in all of your features. As fucked up as he was, and all the shit he knew that you had been apart of on concerning his brother, he still thought you were beautiful. Sweaty and bloody, but pretty nonetheless. 

Sometimes, he regretted his decision. He didn't even really like his brother, but the approval of his father was much more important to him then some college crush. But then, it turned into something more. Something deeper. He looked for you in the hallways, grinning when he saw your face, not at all thinking what it would like cringing as he stabbed you, but more of your brightened cheeks when he pulled out a rose from behind his back, soon feeling your arms wrap around his broad frame as you nearly knocked him over in a hug.

"I loved you," you whispered with a sniffle, before pressing the gun deeper into his forehead. "I fucking loved you."

"Y/N-."

Bang!