#🔪; BEHIND THE MASK ( out of character. ) | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

simpxmachina · 1 month ago

Text

NEW BOT

╰┈➤ wlw red panda , botmaker

🔪 + 🫀 = ☆ bloodthirsty ☆

cai

👾 sarah fidel - BETRAYAL

another bot and one-shot on a character played by our beloved aubrey plaza ! I haven't seen operation fortune : ruse de guerre. so i'm sorry if sarah fidel is out of character. I hoped you would enjoy it anyway xoxo

The mansion was a fortress of indulgence, a sprawling edifice that wore its wealth like armor. Marble columns framed every doorway, and the floors gleamed with such ruthless perfection that Sarah half-expected to see her reflection glaring back at her. She adjusted the cuffs of her tailored blazer—a shade of cream that was carefully selected to say understated affluence without veering into gaudiness. Beneath her confident exterior, her mind churned. Hackers like her weren’t meant for front-line operations; her domain was behind screens, pulling strings in the shadows where the risks were calculated and manageable. Yet here she was, thrust into the lion’s den, wearing an identity stitched together from lies.

Alexandra Monroe. The name tasted foreign in her mouth, but it had been meticulously crafted: a young financier with a flawless resume, Ivy League credentials, and just enough edge to intrigue the man she had been sent to destroy. Months of preparation had gone into this—fabricating a backstory, memorizing key players, rehearsing her role until it became second nature. But nothing could prepare her for the suffocating atmosphere of this place.

The air was thick with wealth, the kind of obscene privilege that felt almost predatory. Men in sharp tuxedos and women in gowns dripping with jewels moved through the cavernous space like predators staking claim to territory. Laughter rang out, brittle and hollow, a performance of joy that echoed too loudly against the vaulted ceilings. Everywhere she turned, there were displays of power: rare art hung on the walls like trophies, and waiters in crisp uniforms glided through the room bearing trays of champagne.

Sarah’s gaze sharpened, scanning the room with the practiced precision of someone trained to notice what others missed. Every detail mattered. The politician she was here to expose—your father—stood near the center of the room, surrounded by sycophants and power brokers. His booming laugh carried over the orchestra’s elegant strains, a sound designed to command attention. He was a man who thrived on control, his charisma a mask for the rot beneath.

Sarah studied him carefully, cataloging his gestures, his tone, the way he carried himself. He was good at this—too good. Every word he spoke, every smile he gave was calculated, tailored to disarm and manipulate. Her stomach churned with revulsion, but she forced herself to stay composed. She had a job to do, and this man was the linchpin. His empire, built on stolen money and shattered lives, was about to collapse. And she would be the one to pull the rug out from under him.

She took a glass of champagne from a passing waiter, not to drink but to blend in. A prop in her performance. The bubbles rose lazily in the glass, their effervescence mocking her stillness. She couldn’t afford to be anything less than perfect tonight.

As she navigated the crowd, her trained eye continued to analyze. She noted the alliances formed in the subtle angles of shoulders, the way some leaned in to speak in hushed tones while others stood apart, isolated yet observant. Power dynamics played out in every interaction, and Sarah read them like a script. This was a game to these people—a game of influence and survival.

But it wasn’t her game. Not really. She was here to end it, to dismantle the foundations of their false empire one keystroke at a time. Her real work wouldn’t begin until later, when she could slip away to a secure terminal and start extracting the data she needed. For now, she was a ghost in their midst, a wolf in sheep’s clothing.

And then she saw you.

It wasn’t dramatic, not at first. Just a glimpse of movement on the balcony that drew her attention. She turned her head, expecting another guest stepping outside for a breath of air or a cigarette. But then she saw you, and the world seemed to narrow, the noise of the party fading to a dull hum.

You stood with your back to the room, framed by the twilight sky that bathed you in soft, golden light. The wind toyed with your hair, and for a moment, you seemed entirely separate from the chaos inside, an oasis of calm in a sea of artifice. There was something unguarded about the way you leaned against the railing, your posture relaxed yet thoughtful.

Sarah’s first instinct was skepticism. She’d been around enough of these people to know their type—spoiled, self-absorbed, the kind who thought the world revolved around their whims. Surely you were no different. You had to be another extension of this place, another cog in the machine of power and privilege.

But then you moved. A small child, no older than six, came rushing onto the balcony, their laughter cutting through the stillness. They grabbed your hand with unrestrained enthusiasm, tugging at you to come inside. And you didn’t hesitate.

You turned, your face breaking into a smile so genuine it made Sarah’s chest tighten. You let the child pull you back into the ballroom, your steps light and unhurried, as if you had all the time in the world to indulge their whim. The orchestra had struck up a lively tune, and the child demanded a dance. You laughed—a sound that felt almost out of place here, too real, too unrestrained—and spun them around in a circle.

Sarah found herself unable to look away. The scene was magnetic in its simplicity: you, twirling with the child, your dress catching the light as you moved. There was no performance in your actions, no ulterior motive. Just joy.

Her pulse quickened as she watched. You were radiant, so achingly vivid in a room full of shadows. Even the other guests seemed to notice, their attention drawn to you despite themselves. Yet you seemed oblivious to their stares, entirely focused on the child in your arms.

And then, as the music slowed, you turned to your father. Sarah’s stomach twisted as she watched you approach him, your hand outstretched in invitation. He hesitated—of course he did, a man like him wasn’t accustomed to such vulnerability—but you coaxed him with a laugh, pulling him onto the dance floor.

For a moment, the hardness in his face softened. He looked almost human, almost kind. And that, more than anything, made Sarah’s task harder. Because she could see it now—how you loved him, how you believed in him, how you had no idea what kind of man he really was.

Her gaze lingered on you as you danced, her thoughts a tangled mess of doubt and determination. She tried to tell herself you were just another part of the mission, another variable to manage. But deep down, she knew that wasn’t true.

You weren’t like the others. You didn’t belong to this world, not really. And that terrified her.

Then music swelled, and the sight of you in the embrace of your father—the man Sarah was sent to betray, to expose—struck her like a silent blow. The contrast was stark. Here was a family, two people bound by ties Sarah could never hope to understand, while she, an outsider, played a part in their destruction. The dance between you and him was a slow, fluid thing, each step a testament to the years of manipulation, of shared history, of love that was still somehow untainted by the darkness Sarah had come to uncover.

But she couldn’t afford to linger in this moment, could she? She had a job to do, and it was all too easy to forget that in the face of your innocence. The thought of you—so radiant, so blissfully unaware—was beginning to gnaw at her, pulling her thoughts into a place they shouldn’t go. She hadn’t expected this. Not from you.

Sarah’s hand tightened around the stem of her champagne glass, the cold metal biting into her skin. She had trained for months for this. She had meticulously analyzed every possible outcome. She was the perfect infiltrator—calm, methodical, detached. Yet, as she watched you spin in your father’s arms, your joy a stark contrast to the weight of the lies she’d constructed, she couldn’t help but wonder if she was losing her grip on herself.

The evening continued to unfold in the usual way, but Sarah barely noticed the passing time. She could hear the laughter of the guests, the murmur of conversations, the clinking of glasses, but her eyes remained on you. It was impossible to tear herself away from the sight.

As the song neared its end, you and your father separated, but not before you kissed his cheek, a sweet gesture of affection that seemed to linger in the air long after you’d pulled away. It was the kind of moment that meant everything and nothing, the kind that could make a person forget the world around them if they weren’t careful. Sarah was careful, but not tonight. Not with you.

You glanced over to the crowd, and for a split second, your eyes locked with Sarah’s. A fleeting moment of recognition. But that was all. You smiled briefly, unaware of the turmoil swirling inside her, before turning back to the festivities.

Sarah’s breath caught in her throat. It was nothing—a glance, a smile. But it was enough to send her mind spiraling. She had come here with one mission: to steal from your father, to expose him as the criminal he was. Yet, as the night wore on, the task felt less like an obligation and more like a betrayal.

Her emotions, usually kept in tight rein, were beginning to crack. The lines between duty and desire were blurring, and she was unsure which side was winning. She wanted to hate your father for the things he had done, for the empire of lies he’d built, but how could she when you were standing there, laughing and dancing, a beacon of light in the midst of all this darkness?

She couldn’t allow herself to feel this way. She had come here for a reason. She had her orders, and the stakes were too high to let anything, or anyone, get in the way. But as the night continued and your laughter echoed in her ears, Sarah realized that this was the first time she felt like she was on the edge of something, something dangerous.

The evening drew on, and Sarah found herself alone in a corner of the grand hall, her mind whirring in a thousand directions. Her mission had always been clear: to retrieve the black money, to clean out your father’s accounts and expose him for the fraud he was. She could almost hear the hum of the data flowing through the system, the invisible strings she would pull when the time was right. But there was something else now, a weight she hadn’t expected to carry. The guilt, the guilt of deceiving someone like you.

You were innocent. You were pure, untouched by the darkness that surrounded you. It was hard to reconcile the image of the loving daughter you had just revealed, dancing with your father, with the monster Sarah knew your father to be. The man she was supposed to destroy. The man you loved.

The evening passed in a haze, and the next part of the plan loomed ahead. But Sarah found herself not wanting to leave. She wanted to stay, to watch you some more, to learn everything she could about you, about this world of privilege and wealth that seemed so foreign to her. But more than that, she wanted to hold on to the feeling you gave her—of something real, something human, something beautiful in the midst of all the lies.

She wasn’t supposed to want that. She wasn’t supposed to be caught up in you.

But there she was, standing in the shadows, wrestling with emotions she hadn’t planned for, watching you dance, her heart pulled in directions she couldn’t control. She was supposed to be the one in control. She was the hacker, the planner, the master of the game. Yet in this moment, standing on the periphery of your life, she felt more out of control than she ever had before.

And then it happened.

As the orchestra finished its final number, a pause settled over the ballroom. Guests began to mill around, their conversations drifting like the notes of the music. You, radiant as ever, moved toward the edge of the room, a child once again tugging at your sleeve. You looked around, eyes searching for someone, and when they landed on Sarah—just for a moment—the world seemed to stop.

There was no way you could have known. No way you could have understood the turmoil inside her, the battle between loyalty to her mission and the growing feelings she could no longer ignore. But in that moment, when your gaze met hers, something shifted.

It wasn’t much. A fleeting look. But it was enough to make Sarah question everything she thought she knew.

For the first time since stepping into this gilded cage, Sarah felt the weight of the lies pressing down on her. She had known she was playing with fire when she took this mission, but now, staring at you, she realized the flames had already begun to scorch her. There was no turning back.

And the air was thick with the hum of a thousand conversations, the muted murmur of gossip and flirtation drifting on the edges of the grand ballroom. Sarah, ever the observer, stood at the far end of the room, her eyes tracing the intricate dance of people, their glistening gowns and sharp suits reflecting the grandeur of the night. The orchestra played softly in the background, but it was the way the light played off the walls, casting delicate shadows, that caught her attention—flickering like the secrets everyone here seemed to hide.

She should have been more focused. She should have been analyzing the situation, considering her next move, her next line of attack. After all, she had a job to do, a mission that no one else could see but her. But no matter how much she tried to pull herself back into her role, her gaze kept returning to you.

You, standing on the edge of the room, a soft glow around you—like you were untouched by the world. You seemed so… human in a place that thrummed with falseness, your laughter mingling with the music, your smile cutting through the facades like sunlight breaking through the clouds. There was something about you that grounded Sarah in ways she couldn’t explain, something that kept pulling at the frayed edges of her concentration.

You caught her staring, and for a brief moment, your eyes met hers. Time slowed, the noise of the party dimming in Sarah’s ears as your gaze held hers. There was no hostility, no suspicion in your look—just an open, disarming warmth. And Sarah, so used to being invisible, to being a shadow on the periphery of everything, couldn’t help but feel a twinge of something unfamiliar stir inside her.

But before she could even begin to process what had just happened, a small child, perhaps five or six, tugged at your hand. The little boy, with his tousled hair and wide, innocent eyes, raised his arms toward you, a clear demand for your attention.

You giggled, a soft, melodic sound that made Sarah’s chest tighten inexplicably. Without hesitation, you lifted the child into your arms, your fingers brushing his cheek as you gently rocked him. The boy snuggled into you, his small hands gripping your shoulders as you began to sway gently, a natural dance between you two that made Sarah’s heart stutter in her chest.

For a long moment, Sarah stood frozen, unable to tear her gaze away. It was strange, this pull she felt. The child, so comfortable in your arms, your effortless grace, the way your face softened as you held him—it was so… real. So incredibly real. It was as if the world around you had stopped spinning for just a moment, and all that existed was you, the child, and the tenderness you gave him so naturally.

The boy, lulled by the warmth of your arms, soon fell asleep, his small form curling against your chest. You carefully adjusted him, brushing his hair back with a soft, absent-minded stroke as you continued to talk with a few of the other guests, the child in your arms a gentle reminder of the purity and innocence that still existed in the world, far away from the corruption that Sarah had been sent to expose.

Sarah watched, transfixed. Her thoughts, once sharp and focused, now felt distant, slipping away from her control as she followed every movement you made, every subtle shift of your posture, the way your fingers traced the child’s hair.

It was only when a man—a well-dressed figure with sharp eyes and a too-wide smile—approached her that Sarah’s thoughts were finally dragged back into the present. He leaned in close, his voice low and smooth as he spoke, a trace of flirtation in his tone.

“You seem a little distant,” he murmured, his eyes glinting with interest. “Is everything all right? It’s hard to believe a woman like you could be lost in thought at a party like this.”

Sarah forced a smile, her attention barely on him as she nodded absently. “I’m fine,” she replied, her voice cool, detached. But her mind wasn’t with him—it was still on you. You, with your effortless beauty, your warmth. The way you held that child, so effortlessly caring and kind. Sarah felt the oddest twinge of discomfort, like she was intruding on something sacred, something she had no business desiring.

The man, oblivious to her growing unease, continued to talk. “I must admit, I didn’t expect to see someone like you at an event like this. You’re... different, aren’t you?”

Sarah nodded again, the words barely registering as he continued to press closer, his gaze too insistent, his tone too forward. His flirtation, while shallow and empty, felt like a weight on her shoulders, a stark contrast to the real, unspoken connection she’d shared with you in that brief moment of eye contact.

And then, as if summoned by some divine force, you appeared.

You approached with a warm, playful smile on your lips, and the man’s eyes flicked up to you as you came closer, sensing the change in the air. You made a show of looking between Sarah and the man, your gaze narrowing just slightly in that way that made it clear you were sizing him up.

“Is there a problem here?” you asked, your voice light but carrying an edge of amusement, a playful challenge in the words.

The man’s smile faltered, and he looked briefly embarrassed, as if he realized for the first time that he might not be as charming as he’d hoped. “Oh, no,” he stammered, adjusting his tie awkwardly. “Just... just making conversation.”

You smirked, a glint of sarcasm in your eyes. “Well, you’re really good at it,” you said, your tone dripping with playful irony. “But I think my friend here was just getting lost in her thoughts.”

The man, now looking decidedly flustered, took a small step back, his expression a mix of confusion and irritation. He gave Sarah one last, somewhat awkward look before turning and retreating, mumbling something under his breath.

You turned to Sarah then, your smile softening into something genuine, something warmer. “I’m sorry about that,” you said, your voice low, almost apologetic. “Some people don’t know when to stop.”

Sarah’s heart skipped a beat at the way you spoke—like you really cared, like you could sense the discomfort she hadn’t even known she was feeling. She nodded, a smile tugging at the corners of her lips despite herself.

“It’s fine,” Sarah replied, her voice just as soft. “I can handle it.”

You looked down at the sleeping child in her arms, a small frown tugging at your lips. “It’s not always easy, though, is it?” you murmured, more to yourself than to Sarah. “Sometimes, people just don’t know how to leave you alone. But I’m glad to see you’re all right.”

You handed the boy to a passing servant, your movements gentle as you murmured a quiet thank you to the woman. Then, you looked back at Sarah, your eyes locking with hers in a moment that felt more intense than either of you expected.

For a moment, neither of you spoke. You stood there, the noise of the party around you forgotten, both of you caught in the stillness of something unspoken, something that wasn’t quite a promise, but something that felt like it could be.

Then, softly, you spoke again. “If you ever need saving again…” you trailed off with a teasing grin, the lightness of your voice returning. “I’ll be around.”

Sarah’s breath caught in her chest. There it was again—the softness in your voice, the warmth of your presence, the feeling that she was no longer just a player in the game, but something more. Something real.

And for the first time, Sarah felt the weight of the lies she’d built around herself and the tension between duty and desire pull at her with an intensity that was impossible to ignore.

---

The grand mansion was a sprawling labyrinth of cold marble and velvet drapery, its halls echoing with the quiet footsteps of servants and the low murmur of distant conversations. Sarah, now under the guise of Alexandra Monroe, had blended seamlessly into this world of wealth and corruption. Her role as the financial advisor to the elusive and powerful politician, Gregory Hale, was the perfect disguise, one that allowed her to move about unnoticed, like a shadow slipping between the cracks.

Sarah had already spent days observing Hale’s movements, learning the patterns of his routine, the ways his mind worked when it came to money, and more importantly, how she could get close enough to gather the information she needed to expose his secrets.

But today was different. She had a new task. The bugging of Hale’s office.

As the sun poured through the tall windows of the mansion, Sarah walked with deliberate steps through the gleaming corridors, her heels clicking against the polished floor with an eerie finality. She could feel the weight of her mission pressing against her chest, a burden she wore with practiced ease. Every corner she turned, every door she passed, she was on alert. She had done this before—many times—but never in a place quite like this, never with so much on the line.

Her breath was steady, her hands steady, as she moved to the door of Hale’s office. She knew the layout by heart now, having memorized the route from the times she’d observed him. The office was tucked away on the second floor, a place where Hale often retreated to make deals, count his black money, and manipulate the threads of his influence.

But just as she approached the door, a soft, unexpected voice stopped her in her tracks.

“Alexandra?”

She froze, her heart skipping a beat. Her eyes flicked toward the sound of the voice, and there, standing at the far end of the hallway, was you.

You, dressed in a soft blue dress, your hair cascading down in gentle waves, a smile playing at the corners of your lips. You looked… radiant, untouched by the darkness that swirled just beneath the surface of this place. It was a warmth that made Sarah’s chest tighten, a strange mix of discomfort and longing pulling at her in ways she couldn’t articulate.

“Oh, I didn’t expect to see you here,” you continued, walking towards her with a light, graceful step. “I thought you were meeting with my father today.”

Sarah blinked, shaking herself from the haze of thoughts that threatened to consume her. “I… I was,” she replied, her voice steady but carrying a faint edge of surprise. “I was just on my way to his office.”

You tilted your head slightly, curiosity lighting up your face. “I see. Is he in there?”

Sarah hesitated for a brief moment before nodding. “He should be,” she said, gesturing toward the door behind her. “I’m… meeting with him for a financial review. But I didn’t expect to bump into you here.”

Your gaze lingered on her for a moment, as if reading something beneath her calm exterior. The faintest trace of a smile curled on your lips, and for a moment, Sarah couldn’t decide whether it was teasing or something else entirely. “Well, maybe it’s fate,” you said softly, your voice playful. “Or maybe I’m just looking for an excuse to talk to you.”

Sarah’s heart thudded louder in her chest. She knew she had to focus, knew she couldn’t let the connection between them distract her, not with the mission so close at hand. But somehow, being in your presence, even in this moment of apparent chance, made everything feel a little more complicated, a little less clear.

“I’m always happy to talk,” Sarah replied, forcing a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “But I really should get going. You know how your father is with his schedules.”

You took a step closer, your smile widening. “Maybe we could talk a bit before you go?”

Sarah felt the tension rise in her chest, the unease at the growing closeness between them, but she knew it was just a passing moment. It was a brief exchange—a momentary diversion. She could handle it.

“I’d like that,” Sarah said quietly, her voice softening despite her inner turmoil.

You led her a little ways down the hall, your steps in sync, and there, beneath the soft golden light that poured through the windows, you began to talk. It was simple conversation at first—talk of the party the night before, of the weather, of anything and everything that didn’t touch on the heart of the matter. And yet, with every word, with every fleeting smile and gentle laugh, Sarah found herself drawn in.

You were… different. So different from the others in this world of deceit and power. It was as if, beneath all the opulence and the money, you were untouched. A light in a place where shadows ruled.

As the days went by, Sarah continued her mission, slipping deeper into the folds of Hale’s life, learning his secrets, gaining his trust. She was always on the move, always watching, always planning. But as she did, she found herself in constant, subtle contact with you.

At first, it was small things. You would bump into her in the hallway and smile warmly, asking about her day. Sometimes you would sit beside her during dinner, chatting lightly, your laughter filling the silence in a way that was strangely comforting.

But it didn’t stop there. You began to seek her out.

One afternoon, when Sarah was reviewing some files in the lavish library of Hale’s mansion, you appeared at her side, a tray of tea in hand. You placed it down before Sarah with an easy, almost intimate gesture, and Sarah felt a strange flutter in her chest. She had always kept people at arm’s length, always kept her focus on the job, on the task at hand. But with you… everything seemed so much more complicated.

“Is everything going well with the finances?” you asked, your tone light, but Sarah could see the flicker of concern in your eyes. “Father tends to get so caught up in his deals that he forgets about the details.”

Sarah nodded, offering a tight smile. “It’s all fine. Nothing you need to worry about.”

But the more she spoke with you, the more she realized that you weren’t like your father at all. You weren’t consumed by the hunger for power or the manipulation of money. Instead, there was an ease to you, a warmth that made Sarah’s walls slowly begin to crumble, piece by piece.

It was difficult to ignore the growing connection between them. You would find small reasons to speak to Sarah, offering her a seat at dinner, pulling her into conversations about art or music, anything that seemed to interest you. And slowly, almost imperceptibly, Sarah found herself looking forward to those moments.

Each time she saw you, she became more intrigued, more drawn to the way you seemed to move through the world with such grace, such authenticity. There was no pretense in you—no mask, no agenda.

And then, one day, as Sarah was once again at Hale’s office, preparing to plant the bug she had so carefully designed, she felt a presence behind her. She turned, half-expecting to see Hale, but instead, there you were—standing in the doorway, looking at her with that soft, knowing smile.

“Alexandra, I didn’t realize you were here,” you said, your voice gentle, almost teasing. “I thought you were busy with my father today?”

Sarah felt her breath catch in her throat, and for a moment, the world seemed to stop around her. She was alone with you, no distractions, no interruptions, and something shifted between them, something unspoken, something that made Sarah’s chest ache in a way she hadn’t anticipated.

“I… I was just finishing up,” she said softly, her voice barely above a whisper. “But I’ll be on my way soon.”

You stepped closer, your presence overwhelming in the quiet room. “Before you go…” you began, your gaze fixed on her, “I just wanted to say thank you.”

Sarah blinked, taken aback by your words. “For what?”

“For being here,” you said, your voice quiet, sincere. “For everything you’ve done for my father and for… being here with me. It’s strange, I don’t know why, but I feel like I can trust you.”

The words hung in the air between them, heavier than anything Sarah had ever heard. For a moment, she didn’t know how to respond, how to reconcile the words you spoke with the truth of what she was really doing.

But all she could do was nod, a faint smile pulling at her lips, even as her heart twisted with the realization that the deeper she fell into this false identity, the more complicated things were becoming.

As the days passed, the invisible threads between Sarah and you continued to tighten, drawing the two of you closer with an intensity that neither of you could fully comprehend. Sarah, with her guarded exterior, remained the perfect professional—her role as Alexandra Monroe giving her the perfect cover to move through the world of wealth and influence without suspicion. But when it came to you, things felt different. You weren’t just another task or another piece of the puzzle to manipulate. You were an enigma, a shining light that pierced through the cold darkness of this world of corruption. And slowly, she found herself drawn to you, more than she ever intended.

The first time it happened, it was subtle. A touch of the hand as you handed her a glass of wine, your fingers brushing lightly against hers, a flicker of heat passing between you both. Sarah’s breath had caught in her throat, and for a moment, the world had fallen away. She’d been careful to maintain her composure, but she couldn’t deny the spark that ignited within her. It was fleeting, almost imperceptible, but it was there.

The second time, it was in the garden, when you’d asked her to join you for a walk after dinner. You’d talked of everything and nothing at all, your laughter mixing with the soft rustling of the leaves. It was a moment of peaceful intimacy, and Sarah couldn’t help but feel as though she had stepped into a world she didn’t fully understand—a world of beauty, of light, of something untainted by the darkness she was so accustomed to.

And then, there were the looks. Those lingering glances, the way your eyes would catch hers across the room when you thought no one was watching. Sarah would often find herself lost in your gaze, feeling a pull she couldn’t explain. Your eyes, full of warmth and curiosity, held an intensity that was disarming. Every time your eyes met, her heart would race in her chest, and she’d have to tear herself away, forcing herself to focus on the task at hand.

But despite her best efforts to maintain control, Sarah found it becoming increasingly difficult to ignore the undercurrent of desire that simmered between them.

It was on one particular evening, after a lavish dinner, when the tension between them reached its peak. Sarah had just returned to her room after a long day of pretending, of playing her part, when a knock came at the door.

She paused, momentarily taken aback. It was late, and the mansion had fallen into a quiet lull. Her first instinct was to ignore it—after all, she had no reason to entertain anyone at this hour. But the knock came again, and this time, there was a gentle, almost tentative quality to it.

“Alexandra?”

The voice was soft, familiar, and Sarah’s heart skipped a beat. She stood, frozen for a moment, trying to calm the sudden rush of emotions that flooded her chest. She knew who it was. It was you.

The door opened just slightly, and there you were, standing in the dim light of the hallway. You were dressed in a flowing, white nightdress that glowed softly in the low light, your hair falling loosely around your shoulders, your eyes wide and filled with an unspoken question.

“I… I hope I’m not disturbing you,” you said, your voice quiet, almost hesitant. “But I was wondering if I could talk to you for a moment.”

Sarah’s breath caught in her throat, her mind racing. She knew she should resist, knew she should send you away with a polite excuse, but the words stuck in her throat. She couldn’t bring herself to do it. There was something about the way you stood there, so vulnerable yet so confident, that made her heart ache with an intensity she wasn’t prepared for.

“You’re not disturbing me,” Sarah finally managed to say, her voice low, controlled. “Come in.”

You stepped inside, the soft fabric of your nightdress brushing against the floor as you moved toward her. The room was dimly lit, the soft glow of the lamps casting long shadows on the walls. There was an almost dreamlike quality to the atmosphere, as if time had slowed, holding its breath.

“I couldn’t sleep,” you said, your voice soft, almost sheepish. “I kept thinking about everything that’s been happening. About how strange it is to have someone like you in our lives. Someone I can’t quite figure out.”

Sarah nodded, a small smile tugging at the corner of her lips. “I know what you mean. I feel the same way, sometimes.”

You stepped a little closer, the distance between you narrowing with each passing second. Sarah’s pulse quickened, her heart pounding in her chest as your presence filled the room, warm and undeniable. She could smell the soft scent of lavender on your skin, the fragrance lingering in the air between you.

“I feel like I’ve known you for much longer than I have,” you continued, your voice dropping to a whisper. “Like there’s something… familiar about you. Something that draws me in, even though I know I shouldn’t feel this way.”

Sarah’s breath hitched, the words hanging in the air between you. She could feel the magnetic pull between them, the tension so thick it was almost suffocating. She had never felt this way about anyone before—not like this, not in a way that made her heart race and her breath catch in her throat.

“I… I don’t know what you mean,” Sarah said, her voice strained, betraying the emotions she was trying so hard to keep buried. She didn’t want to acknowledge it, didn’t want to admit that she felt the same.

But you weren’t listening. You took another step forward, closing the space between you. Your eyes were dark now, intense, and Sarah could feel the heat of your gaze like a physical touch. The air between you crackled with something electric, something dangerous.

“I think you do,” you said softly, your hand reaching out to touch her arm, the contact sending a jolt of electricity through Sarah’s body. “I think you’ve felt it too.”

And then, in that moment, it happened. Without thinking, without the rational part of her mind having time to intervene, Sarah leaned forward, her lips meeting yours in a kiss that was soft at first, tentative, as if neither of them could believe what was happening.

But as the kiss deepened, as the heat between them intensified, the world outside of the room seemed to fade away. It was just the two of them now, wrapped in this strange, intoxicating moment that neither of them could escape from.

Sarah’s hands, which had remained at her sides for so long, now reached up to touch your face, to pull you closer. Your lips were warm and soft against hers, and Sarah felt her resolve crumble under the intensity of the kiss.

When they finally broke apart, breathless and tangled in the moment, neither of them spoke for a long time. There was so much left unsaid, so much that neither of them dared to confront.

But as you pulled back slightly, your fingers still lingering on her arm, you looked into Sarah’s eyes, and for the first time, Sarah felt as though she was truly seen.

“I didn’t expect this,” you whispered, your voice breathless, as if the kiss had stolen the words from your throat.

Neither did Sarah. But as she stood there, with you so close, the weight of the mission, the weight of the lies, seemed a little less important. For the first time, she felt a flicker of something real, something that could, maybe, change everything.

---

The soft light of the morning sun filtered through the curtains, casting a warm glow across the room. The bed, still slightly disheveled from the night before, held the quiet evidence of a moment that had passed, leaving behind the traces of lingering warmth. Sarah’s room was calm and serene—decorated simply, with a few personal touches that reflected a woman who had crafted her life with precision. Yet, today, the room felt different. The space seemed to be filled with an energy that was undeniably hers and yours, two forces drawn together like magnetic poles.

You were there, nestled in the sheets—wrapped in them like an ethereal figure, the white fabric clinging to your form in a way that seemed almost sculptural. You lay on your stomach, your legs slightly bent, one hand resting on the book in front of you while the other brushed a stray lock of hair behind your ear. The way you held the book, so absorbed in the words, the way your body seemed to flow in such natural grace beneath the sheets—Sarah could hardly look away.

She sat at the edge of the bed, her body languid as she watched you, her gaze tracing the lines of your figure. For a moment, she allowed herself to indulge, her eyes drinking in the sight of you, taking in how the soft sheets hugged your skin, the way the sunlight kissed your bare back. You seemed so at ease, so perfectly composed, yet there was a certain softness to you in this moment that made Sarah’s chest tighten. You looked like something carved from marble, perfect in every way. A modern-day Aphrodite, with your long, dark hair and glowing skin, radiant and serene, the book in your hands the only thing that seemed to tether you to the present.

She wanted to say something—anything—but the words stuck in her throat as she watched you. The guilt, that ever-present, gnawing sense of deception, was there, lurking beneath the surface of everything she did. She wasn't Alexandra Monroe. She wasn’t the woman she had allowed you to believe. But in this room, at this moment, none of that seemed to matter.

Sarah’s fingers twitched at her side, wanting to reach out to you. She wanted to touch you, to hold you, to pull you closer. But she stopped herself. She watched you for a few moments longer, feeling the weight of her secret, the weight of her lies, pressing on her chest like an iron bar. But in the face of you, in the warmth you exuded, all that seemed so distant. The real world—the one she was pretending to belong to—felt so far away, almost irrelevant in the light of this stolen peace.

Your voice broke through the silence, soft but full of curiosity, dragging her from her reverie.

“Alexandra,” you asked, your voice sleepy but playful, “what exactly do you find interesting about this book?”

Your tone was light, teasing, but Sarah couldn’t help but notice the way you looked at her as you asked. Your eyes were full of innocence, but there was something else, too—a spark of something that she wasn’t entirely sure how to interpret. You had no idea, of course. No idea that Sarah had no interest in the subject at hand, no true knowledge of finance or the intricacies of economics. It was all a façade, a performance, a game she had been playing long before meeting you.

But now, sitting here in the soft morning light with you, the words seemed to lose their meaning, the numbers on the pages becoming irrelevant. It wasn’t the book she was thinking about; it was you. Always you.

She shifted her posture, leaning slightly forward as her fingers brushed a stray strand of hair from your face. Her hand lingered in your hair for a moment, fingers brushing gently, caressing the soft strands. She didn't trust herself to speak at first. Instead, she allowed her eyes to study you, to memorize the way your lips curved as you smiled, the way your body seemed to breathe in time with the warmth of the room.

The smile on your face was genuine, something that had begun to grow between the two of you in the days since the kiss had blurred the lines between who you were and who Sarah was pretending to be. It was all starting to feel... real, even when Sarah knew it shouldn’t.

“I don’t know,” she said finally, her voice soft, almost regretful. “I guess I just thought it would be… practical, something I could learn, something that might make me… more useful.”

She didn’t say anything else. It wasn’t the truth—she wasn’t really interested in finance at all—but it was close enough to avoid the question. Besides, the real truth was that she had no idea how to respond to the way your presence made her feel. How everything about you seemed to make the world fade into something far less significant.

You shifted in the bed, propping yourself up on your elbows to meet her gaze. Your eyes were full of something—something softer than what Sarah had ever expected. It was a look of trust, maybe. Or maybe it was just the effect of being so close to each other for so long. Either way, Sarah felt herself growing weaker under the weight of your gaze.

“You’re already plenty useful to me,” you teased, that smile still lingering on your lips.

Sarah swallowed, her chest tight. There was a part of her that wanted to pull away, to protect herself, to pull the walls back up that had taken years to build. But that part of her was weakening. It was losing its hold.

Without thinking, her hand returned to your hair, her fingers brushing through the strands, gently pulling them back from your face. She watched as you closed your eyes for a moment, a soft breath escaping your lips. You didn’t resist, didn’t pull away. And for a fleeting second, Sarah thought she might stay here forever, lost in this moment of tenderness, of warmth, of something so perfectly ordinary and extraordinary at the same time.

“I never thought I’d end up here, you know,” Sarah murmured softly, her voice full of that same strange vulnerability. She didn’t know why she was saying it. Maybe it was the quiet intimacy of the moment, or maybe it was because of the guilt that was beginning to cloud her thoughts again. But she couldn’t stop herself. “I never thought I’d let myself… feel this way.”

You met her eyes, the softness in your gaze deepening. For a moment, neither of you spoke. There was a strange tension in the air, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. It was just… intense.

“Do you regret it?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper, the question hanging between you like an unspoken promise.

Sarah blinked, her fingers still gently tracing your hair. She felt her heart skip a beat, the weight of your words settling over her like a soft, heavy blanket. Her answer wasn’t immediate, and for the first time, she realized that she wasn’t entirely sure. There was too much at stake. Too much of her identity had been wrapped up in the lies. But looking at you—this radiant, open soul in front of her—she couldn’t help but wish that the truth didn’t seem so far away.

“No,” she finally said, her voice steady, though her chest was tight. “I don’t regret it.”

And as you smiled softly, that small, knowing smile, she felt something shift in her. Something deep inside her, something that made her realize she didn’t want to pull away from this. She didn’t want to walk away from you.

For a fleeting moment, she allowed herself to believe that maybe, just maybe, this could be something real.

But the real world always catches up. Lies never last.

Days drifted by like leaves in a lazy river, but Sarah could feel the current of her own actions pulling her under. It started small—a whispered message that didn’t seem to matter at first, an innocuous note that seemed to have little weight. But as the days went on, that message began to settle into her mind like a stone lodged in her chest, a constant reminder that time was running out.

The mission was drawing to a close.

Sarah sat in her temporary office, the one she had carefully crafted for the last few weeks under the false identity of Alexandra Monroe. The world outside seemed so far away now, as if the life she had built here—this life with you—was something she could never have truly known. But she had to let go. There was no other choice. She had done her job, infiltrated the heart of the corruption, and now it was time to disappear. To collect the evidence. To walk away.

Everything has a price.

Her fingers hovered over her phone, her gaze flicking to the unread message once more. The words burned in her mind, mocking her, reminding her that the time to act was now. She felt her pulse quicken as the weight of the decision pressed heavily against her chest.

One last job. One final act of betrayal. One last moment to take the money, pass it to her team, and disappear.

But then what? What about you?

Her eyes flicked to the door. The sound of your laughter had been echoing in her mind all morning, the way you moved through the halls like sunlight breaking through a storm. You were still unaware. Still untouched by the truth.

And Sarah? She was no longer sure who she was. She wasn’t just Alexandra Monroe anymore. She wasn’t the woman she had been before. You had cracked something in her. Something she didn’t think could ever be cracked. Something soft. Something human.

But it was too late. She couldn’t undo what had been set into motion.

---

The final day arrived, cloaked in an uneasy silence. Sarah had already set everything in motion. The black money had been arranged to be moved. The proof of the politician’s corruption—the man who had built his empire on lies and greed—was ready to be handed over. She would make the exchange, slip away with her team, and vanish into the shadows. Everything had been planned down to the smallest detail.

And yet, as she stood in the grand hallway of the mansion, she felt as though she were walking on the edge of a knife. Each step felt like it could be her last.

Her eyes flicked over the guests who wandered in and out, the polished, pristine faces of power and influence—some laughing, some murmuring in groups, none the wiser. But her attention wasn’t on them. It was on you.

You were still the same. Beautiful. Radiant. The very embodiment of everything Sarah hadn’t realized she wanted—until now.

She spotted you across the room, surrounded by laughter and the hum of conversation, but her heart skipped as she saw something shift in your gaze. A glance that caught hers. And for a moment, time seemed to still. You smiled—so innocent, so unaware—but Sarah felt the cold knot of her impending betrayal twist deeper inside her.

The message had arrived. The job was simple. The money was ready to be moved. There was no more time.

But then, you were there.

You crossed the room to her, your presence undeniable, your smile so sweet it almost broke her resolve. You stopped in front of her, a gleam of curiosity in your eyes.

“Alexandra,” you said softly, tilting your head. “I was just wondering if you might want to join me for a dance?”

The question caught Sarah off guard. She hadn’t expected this. You were always so... so full of life. Always so present. So genuine. How could she say no?

But she had to. She had to say goodbye. This was the moment.

“I… I can’t,” Sarah said, forcing a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “I’ve got some things to take care of. But maybe later.”

You didn’t seem to buy it. You frowned, confusion and hurt flickering across your face.

"Later?” you echoed, and Sarah could hear the sadness in your voice. “You’ve been saying that for days now, Alexandra. What’s going on? Why are you avoiding me?”

She felt the heat of your gaze, the weight of your words hanging in the air between you, and for a moment, she considered telling you everything. But then the door opened, the sound of her team waiting to make the exchange. It was time.

And then, just as quickly, you were gone.

---

The hall was empty when Sarah moved toward the back, away from the guests, toward the place where the money had been stashed. She pulled the small briefcase from beneath the hidden panel in the wall, her fingers trembling as she prepared to hand it off to her team. She was almost there.

Almost free.

Her phone buzzed in her pocket. Another message. Her heart stuttered in her chest as she saw it.

Everything is set. Do it now.

She took a breath, pulling herself together. She turned toward the door, but then she stopped.

A shadow in the doorway.

It was you.

You stood there, eyes wide, breath quick. You had seen it all. You had watched everything unfold. Your heart was on your sleeve now, raw, broken. You were shaking your head, your mouth moving but no words coming out at first.

“Sarah…” you breathed, disbelief written on your face. “What are you doing?”

The world seemed to collapse in on Sarah. She felt the walls around her crumble, her heart racing as the reality of what she had done hit her full force. You had seen it all. Everything.

“No,” you whispered, the pain in your voice cutting her to the core. “No, this can't be real… you—this isn’t you.”

Your eyes were wide, searching hers for the truth, but Sarah couldn’t give it to you. She couldn’t give you any more lies.

“I—” Sarah began, but her words faltered. What could she say? What was there left to say?

This is the mission. This is what you’ve always been trained to do.

But you were there. You had been there for her. You had made her feel something real. And now, she was standing here, caught in the tangled web of lies, unable to escape.

“Tell me this isn’t happening,” you whispered, your voice breaking as you took a step forward, your hand reaching out. “Tell me you’re not—tell me you’re not betraying me.”

“I’m sorry,” Sarah whispered, the words feeling like poison in her mouth. “I never wanted to hurt you. I never meant to…”

You couldn’t hear her anymore. You took another step forward, your face crumpling with the weight of the betrayal. The tears welled in your eyes. You looked lost.

“How could you?” you whispered, your voice a broken tremor in the air. You shook your head, stepping back. “I thought you—I thought you were different!”

The hurt in your voice was too much. Sarah wanted to reach for you, wanted to apologize a thousand times over, but the distance between you was growing. You were slipping away, disappearing into the shadows. And with each step, it felt like the last piece of herself that Sarah had left was crumbling to dust.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered again, but it was too late.

With one last tearful glance, you turned and walked away.

The sting of betrayal hung thick in the air like a heavy fog, and Sarah stood frozen in the doorway as you retreated from her. The world outside seemed so distant, so far away, as she struggled to form the words that might make everything right again. The plan had worked—she had nearly escaped, had nearly taken everything she needed and walked away with nothing but memories of a woman she had come to care for, even love. But now? Now it was all falling apart.

You hadn’t even let her explain. And Sarah felt the weight of it all settle onto her shoulders, the voice in her earpiece shouting orders that she couldn’t possibly follow, her team urging her to leave, to finish the mission.

But none of that mattered now.

You mattered.

"Wait," Sarah called out, her voice cracking as she took a shaky step toward you. "Please, just—let me explain."

You turned back, your eyes a mixture of confusion, hurt, and anger. It was too much. The betrayal, the lies. Everything had shattered in the seconds it had taken for you to realize what was happening. You couldn't believe it. She couldn’t believe it.

"You don't need to explain," you whispered bitterly, your hands trembling at your sides. "I can’t even look at you right now. After everything... You lied to me. You used me."

“I never meant to hurt you,” Sarah continued, her voice a fragile thread in the darkness. "I swear to you, my feelings for you... They're real. I care about you. This—this isn’t who I am. But I’m not who you think I am."

You shook your head, disbelief written across your face, and Sarah felt her heart crack into pieces. Her hands shook as she reached for you, but you stepped back, the distance between you growing wider with every moment that passed.

“Who are you, then?” Your voice trembled as the words escaped. “What do you mean?”

“I’m not... Alexandra Monroe,” Sarah finally said, her voice dropping to a quiet, almost defeated tone. "My real name is Sarah Fidel."

The words hung in the air like a confession, one she hadn't planned on making, but something inside of her couldn’t hold it back anymore. The truth had to come out. If she was going to lose you—and she feared she already had—then at least you would know everything.

"Why did you lie to me?" you demanded, your voice rising with emotion. "Who are you, really? What are you doing here? Why—why did you pretend to be someone else?"

Sarah’s chest tightened at your question, and she took a step closer to you, ignoring the frantic chatter in her earpiece telling her to move, to finish what she’d started. She was losing everything. She was losing you.

“I didn’t want to. I never wanted to deceive you,” she said softly, her words laced with sincerity. “I came here to do something, something that had to be done. I needed to get close to your father… I needed to find out what he was involved in. I had to expose him. But when I met you... everything changed. I didn’t expect to feel like this."

You stood still, watching her, your arms crossed tightly over your chest, the hurt in your eyes turning to anger.

"My father? You’re saying my father’s involved in all this?"

Sarah hesitated, her eyes briefly flickering to the side as her mind raced. "Your father... he’s been laundering money, running illegal operations... I was sent here to gather evidence, to bring him down. But I—” Sarah’s breath caught in her throat. “I didn’t know about you. I didn’t know about us.”

“You didn’t know about us?” You scoffed, stepping forward, your voice rising. "What do you mean by that? I trusted you. I let you in. You—you said you loved me!"

Sarah felt the pain of your words like a knife. "I do love you," she said, her voice barely above a whisper, but full of raw emotion. "I know it sounds insane. I know I don’t deserve your forgiveness. But please, please believe me—everything I’ve felt for you, everything between us, was real. I’ve never... I’ve never felt this way before. You—you changed everything for me."

Her breath caught in her throat as she took another step toward you, her hand reaching out for yours, but you pulled back, your eyes filled with so much conflict.

"I can’t just forget what you've done, Sarah." The name tasted strange on your lips now. "You've been lying to me this entire time. You’re not the person I thought you were.”

The air between you two was thick with tension, and Sarah felt the tears welling up behind her eyes. Her hands shook with the weight of everything she had to say, everything she needed to explain. “I never wanted to hurt you. And I never wanted to drag you into this mess. I swear to you, I was going to leave. I was going to walk away, take the money, and disappear.”

You shook your head, your eyes still dark with hurt. "But now I know what you've been doing, Sarah. I can’t... I can’t forgive you for that. My father? This whole thing? It’s too much. It’s all a lie, and I—"

“Stop,” Sarah said softly, cutting you off. She took a step closer again, her voice cracking under the weight of everything. “Please... just listen to me. I didn’t want this to be the way it was. I never wanted to deceive you. I want to be with you. I care about you. And I know I’ve messed up. I know I’ve hurt you, but this—everything I’ve done, it was because I didn’t have any other choice."

You stared at her, your expression torn between the anger you felt and the love that you had for her, a love that, despite everything, still lingered beneath the surface. Your heart beat faster in your chest, and you felt the weight of the decision you had to make.

But the world felt like it was breaking apart around you. There was so much you didn’t know, so much you couldn’t understand. Your father was involved in something far darker than you had ever imagined, and Sarah had been part of it. She had lied to you, and yet she stood here, asking for forgiveness.

What was the truth?

And yet, beneath all of the anger, beneath all of the hurt, there was still a part of you that wanted to believe in her. That wanted to believe that everything they had was real, that Sarah—Alexandra—wasn’t just a mask, a facade. That the love she had shown you, the way she held you, the moments she shared with you, weren’t just part of a game.

“I don’t know what to do,” you whispered, your voice trembling.

Sarah’s heart clenched at the sight of your vulnerability. She reached out, her hand brushing against your cheek. “Please,” she said softly, her voice full of pain. “Don’t let this be the end. I know I’ve made mistakes. But I swear to you, everything I feel for you is real.”

For a long moment, you didn’t move. The silence stretched between you, and Sarah felt as though time itself had stopped. You were fighting, torn between your feelings for her, the woman you had come to love, and the reality of the situation that had been uncovered. But as you looked into her eyes—her soul bared to you, raw and trembling—you saw the truth behind the lies.

And in that moment, something inside of you broke. The tears that had been welling up inside of you spilled over, and you felt the weight of everything settle onto your shoulders.

“I don’t know if I can forgive you,” you whispered. “But I need time... I need time to figure out what’s real.”

Sarah’s chest tightened, but she nodded, a faint but hopeful smile on her lips. “I’ll wait for you,” she said softly, her voice steady. “I’ll wait as long as it takes.”

And as she reached out one final time, pulling you close, you allowed yourself to melt into her embrace, torn between the past and the future, between the love you felt for her and the world you now knew you could never be a part of.

But for now, all you could do was hold on—hold on to the woman who had lied to you, hold on to the love you still wanted to believe in, even though you weren’t sure what was left to hold.

And maybe, just maybe, the answer would come in time.

But for now, all you had was the silence between you and the hope that maybe, one day, the truth would set you both free.

#aubrey plaza #aubrey plaza x reader #sarah fidel #rio vidal #aubrey plaza's characters are automatically hot or what ?!#angst #need aubrey plaza for christmas #operation fortune #wish Aubrey Plaza was my girlfriend

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jxckchxmpi0n · 1 year ago

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hey love, congratulations on 200!

i was wondering if you could do ethan landry with the prompt (please tell me that at least a part of it was real) some good old ghostface angst!

GOOD OLD GF ANGST! 🕸🔪 Thank you, love! I hope you enjoyed this! 🌼

Damaged Soul

Summary: Your boyfriend of almost a year isn't who he says he is. He's a killer, and he killed your love and your trust. | m.list

Word count: 1.1k

Warning: ANGST ANGST ANGST 😈. swearing, blood, character death, lying, cursing, (i want to say that's everything)

did not proof read.

also I'm making it through all the requests plus the new ones! AhHh

your heart sank as you watched Ethan take the Ghostface mask off, tears filling your eyes as they locked with his. Tara looked at you worried, "Never trust the love interest, right?" he had an evil grin on his face like he was proud he played you.

Bailey grabbed Ethan's shoulder and started talking about how proud he was of him for using you like Richie had done to Sam last year. "They grow up so fast don't they." your body felt frozen in time as you looked at Ethan, questioning everything in existence now.

Sam kept yelling at Bailey asking why they were doing this, Tara stood holding herself as she felt herself bleeding out.

You haven't been injured yet as bad as the sisters, and something was telling you it was about to get worse. Ethan and Quinn were now circling around you three while bailey gave his big speech.

"Ethan, why?" your voice was broken and cracking. Your body turned with his following his as he walked around.

"Don't you see y/n I needed excuses, econ wasn't always going to work, but being with you oo you knew. you knew what I was up to, yet you ignored it. All the late nights coming back to the apartment, y/n you were just an object to me. Nothing more, but God you know I will miss the sex." he shook the knife in your face as he got closer.

"I didn't know" You stepped back as he got closer, tears falling from your eyes. your back hit the wall. Bailey and Quinn were too busy with Sam and Tara. Letting Ethan have you to himself, "I didn't know!" you screamed in his face causing him to jump a little.

He lunged forward, his hand wrapping around your neck while the knife cut into your cheekbone. "It doesn't matter anymore sweetheart; did you know you weren't even part of the plan? hm? now, but Quinn you see Quinn came up with the idea of getting with you, seeing at how much you gave me heart eyes she knew it was a good idea."

"You're a monster!" your voice was broken, shattered even. your body ached as his hold tightened on you.

"No! I'm not the monster, Sam is okay she killed Richie she's the one that ruined our lives, if anything she ruined your life too" his eyes were glossy as he talked about his brother.

"She killed him in defense, while you have killed- three people" pushing yourself against the knife you felt it cut deeper into your face. You could feel the warmth of your blood running down your face, Ethan's eyebrows drew together as he noticed a change in you.

You were beyond angry now the fact that he used you, and yet deep down you knew you knew something was up, and yes Ethan was right you ignored it. but you can't anymore.

"You used me, Ethan, you killed people, if anything you ruined my life. You made me fall in love with you, you used my body, I trusted you with everything, and you stand here in front of me and you're telling me you aren't the monster?!"

You didn't need a weapon to scare him, you saw the fear he had in his eyes when he took the mask off. Seeing the look on your face when he realizes what he has done, he knows that you know he loves you and that behind closed doors he wanted this all to end.

He slowly stepped back as you stepped forward his hand loosed on you and the knife. you were getting inside his head. "I hate you; I hate you and I want you to fail, I want you and your whole family to die."

"Y/n I-I had no choice it was my father's plan" his eyes were getting watery by the second. your hands balled up into fists.

"Fuck you!" you punched him in the face causing him to fly back, dropping the knife. Baily was chasing Sam on the stage while Quinn cornered Tara.

"You fucking dumbass Ethan get the fuck up" Quinn shouted at Ethan as she saw him on the floor. You took the chance to run to Tara, she had a stab wound in her abdomen and on her arm. She had it worse than you.

"Y/n you have to get out of here, find help" Tara tried to push you away but failed. The sound of screaming and shouting filled the auditorium as Sam was fighting Bailey.

"God as much as I hate you killing you is going to be so fun" Quinn was behind you waving her knife, and you pushed Tara away motioning her to go help her sister.

Ethan was standing behind his sister watching as she was getting closer. "No Quinn, she's mine let me have her" she looked back at her brother seeing the way he was looking at you. Not only did he have the look to kill you, but he also still has lust written all over his face.

"You've got to be kidding me, you can't really have feelings for this bitch," Ethan was trying to justify that he never had feelings for you. Looking around you saw broken glass, picking it up took the shard, and stabbed Quinn in the back. she screamed out in pain; Ethan ran forward and without thinking he pulled you off of her.

Taking the Kinfe Quinn he pulled his arm back, the sharp end meeting with your stomach. You screamed right into his ear, his heart breaking as he felt your blood pouring onto his hand. "Do it Ethan" Quinn watched holding her side as he twisted the knife and pulled it up creating a deeper cut. "I'm sorry y/n I'm so sorry" he held your body close as you couldn't even make any noise from the pain.

"Please tell me at least some of it was real?" your face was ghostly white, your cheeks stained with tears and blood. Your body is already feeling so weak, you weren't going to make it but

"Yes, it was, y/n it was real, and I-I love you. I always will love you" Tears were streaming down his face as he felt your body go limp. He had just killed the one person that ever understood him. He shouldn't have done it; he shouldn't have done any of it. he set you down looking at your face. You looked nothing like you did when he was with you at nighttime.

"Ethan let her go, dad needs us" Quinn pushed him with her foot causing him to lean closer to you. He wiped his tears, got up and followed his sister.

#jack champion #ethan landry #scream vi #ethan landry imagine #ethan landry x reader #jack champion imagine #jack champion x reader #spider avatar #ethan landry smut #ghost face x reader #avatar spider #spider socorro #spiderman ethan landry #ethan landry x you #jack champion fluff #jack champion fanfic

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cloverdaisies · 1 year ago

Text

NOWHERE TO RUN

tbz scream (1996) au

𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐯𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐚 𝐤𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐫 @: cloverdaisies

description: if the landline rings, remember to answer the questions 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭. you don’t want to be locked in a house with a masked killer. a tbz au based on & inspired by (scream 1996).

warnings: mentions of violence, murder, blood. this is a work of fiction !!! however, 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐝𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐢𝐬 𝐚𝐝𝐯𝐢𝐬𝐞𝐝 … 🔪💀

member: tbz x you

channel: @deoboyznet

word count: 5k+

NEWS ANCHOR: “The murder of two high school students in the small town of Saltclover has led to the closure of their local high school due to an outbreak of pranks. Students wearing a costume sold as the grim reaper or as their calling it ‘ghost face’ have been heartlessly terrorizing this suburban school after the incident. This is Madeline Fox, Channel One News.”

♫ PSYCHO KILLER - TALKING HEADS plays faintly in the distance. ♫

🔪 10PM IN SALTCLOVER, 30th October 1996

“AGHHH!” A group of kids scream as a man adorning a ghostface mask whips his around from the corner of a tree. Then they scream again as they see another one behind them.

“Got ‘em.” Juyeon rips the mask of his face, high fiving Changmin as they both chuckle with enlightenment.

“Guys it’s not funny to be wearing those, nevermind scaring the little ones.” You sigh, stood on the front porch with a bowl of candy tucked between your elbow.

“They’re literally middle schoolers, too old to be trick or treating anyway. Besides what? You scared?” Changmin laughed, rubbing the mask in your face before walking inside, Juyeon chuckling shortly behind him.

The crackling of the log fire in the living room created a warm ambience, lighting up the room in an orange light. Duvets and pillows all messily lined across the floor as halloween played on the television on the opposite side of the room.

“And then she screams, the ghost is right behind her. She runs away he catches her and guts her like a fish. It was all a dream though.” Changmin burst into maniacal laughter before tucking himself into the sheets beneath him.

“What if, he caught her, bit off her fingers and became known as the finger ghost.” Juyeon adds with spooky jazz hands, crouched in front us, the both of them kept chuckling and watching your reactions, but nothing.

“You guys, two people we know literally died can you not take this a little bit more seriously?” You asked cocking an eyebrow towards the two boys who stared back blankly.

“The more fear you feel, the more you manifest the danger y/n.” Changmin sighed, grabbing the television remote began flicking the channels for another movie.

Eventually all the horror films that you’d all seen around 3 times over sent all 3 of you to sleep. As you slept soundly with locked doors, closed blinds, a black cat perched upon your windowsill looking out into the moon.

🔪7PM SALTCLOVER, 31st October 1996

♫ BACKSTREET BOYS - EVERYBODY, playing through the stereo system. ♫

Halloween was usually a time of harmless fun, where most normally functioning teenagers dressed in silly costumes and pretended they were in a movie as they trashed somebody else’s shitty house party. Unfortunately with a serial murderer running around it was hard for most of society to have fun, knowing someone in a grim reaper mask could show up any second and take your life from your hands. The boys didn’t seem to let such nuisance bother them as they all showed up to your home, wearing costumes from the classics to movie characters to musicians.

“Guys let’s play ring of fire!” Kevin suggested, suitably clothed in a ruby red leather outfit that resembled Michael Jackson’s from the iconic Thriller music video - seemingly he’d put a lot of effort into crafting the costume, that was much like Kevin. The boys each sprant to the kitchen to table, placing a huge cup in the middle of a circle of cards before each looking at Sangyeon hopefully, who wore a blue jumpsuit, in hand a Michael Myers Mask from the famous horror movie ‘Halloween’

“Oldest first.” Sunwoo, the green power ranger pointed towards the cards waiting for him to pick, a silly smirk painted on his face. “Youngest last.”

“That’s unfair but whatever.” Sangyeon grabbed a card picking up the 9 of hearts and flashing it to the table. “Nine is rhyme, so death.”

“Breath.” Haknyeon, wearing all black with a batman mask, quickly added as they began to go around the table reciting words that rhymed.

“Why’d you pick that? Because you’re breath stinks?” Hyunjae laughed pulling a silly face to the boy who hid behind a chuckle at the remark.

“I was actually thinking about yours.” Haknyeon replied cleverly, sticking his tongue out like a child and then looking at Sunwoo expectantly.

“Meth.” Sunwoo added bluntly.

“What I’ll be doing when I leave this place.” Chanhee, rolled his eyes taking a polite chug of his drink since he couldn’t think of a word that rhymed. He wore all red with glitter on his eyes, his skin glowed off the colour and his neatly arranged side part brought everything together.

The sound of the landline ringing and rattling on the kitchen wall interrupted the circle, Sangyeon sighed and got up as the rest of the boys chatted and carried on with the game.

“Hello Sangyeon. You know …”A mysterious low voice taunted him on the other end of the line, you could almost here the cheshire cat grin across the long eerie pause he left. “I think there’s a snake in the room, I see you’re wearing Michael’s costume quite appropriate for someone who is willing to stab their friends in the back.”

“Who’s this?” Sangyeon furrowed his brows and adjusted his posture as he awaited a reply from the caller.

“Answer the question right to survive, who said this ‘Changmin is so insufferable, I have no idea why we are still friends with him’? Little cut throat to say about a friend right?”

“Oh shutup, prank call another house.” Sangyeon almost let out a cackle at how pathetic the call was in his head, probably just one of their high school friends trying to scare him.

“If you hang up you die. I can see you smiling, how about I cut one into that face of yours smart ass.” The mysterious caller grew angry, spitting down the wire hating the ridicule and how unserious Sangyeon thought he was.

“Okay, listen I said it and what?” Sangyeon smiled, since he knew the answer even if this guy was going to kill him, he was going to be correct anyways.

“Incorrect.” The caller replied with a dubious snicker, the sound of him licking his lips grotesquely sounded crystal clear through the speaker.

“What?” Sangyeon laughed in disbelief, he definitely had said that to a few people before so there was no way on earth it wasn’t him - at least in his mind.

“Sunwoo said it, you agreed remember? Don’t you?” Suddenly, Sangyeon’s memory jogged, despite having repeated Sunwoo’s words he wasn’t the first person to say such a thing.

“Who are you?” Sangyeon demanded to know the caller’s identity, his anger made evident as he gritted his teeth and gripped the halloween mask between his fist damp with fear.

“You didn’t even get to the next round. It was horror movie trivia! Snakes don’t survive in this world and as they always say oldest first!” The caller laughed before the phone was slammed into the receiver by Sangyeon, who then stormed up to the bathroom to cool off.

“What’s wrong with him?” Sunwoo asked, as he looked around at the silence on the table, the boys each staring blankly at each other as if there was something he’d missed whilst he’d went to retrieve a beer.

“Well, I walked past and whoever was on the phone said he’d been talking about Changmin behind his back with Sunwoo.” Jacob replied talking a sip of his drink obliviously, wearing a red polo and green apron with a shitty cardboard prop that read “PIZZA DELIVERY” in his own hand writing.

“Listen Changmin, we didn’t mean it like that-.” Sunwoo tried to excuse himself before Changmin who had dressed as Chucky slammed his palms on the table and walked out, tears in his eyes, into the garden for some air, Hyunjae following closely behind him in his Boy George costume.

“Guys we shouldn’t figh-” Younghoon tried to mediate but ultimately failed, the white garments and halo clearly not doing him any favors in trying to play peacemaker in this little argument.

“Let’s not try solve this right now, quite frankly I can’t be bothered.” Juyeon slammed his beer down on the table next to you, picking up the lasso for his Indiana Jones get up and also walking out on to the patio to observe the night.

“Roger that.” Eric further got up, his blonde hair slicked back and an orange scarf tied around his neck. He made probably the most accurate ‘Fred’ from scooby doo you’d ever seen.

🔪 HEY Y/N, WHAT ARE YOU WEARING?

🔪.

It made you happy to see everyone dressed up and get together at times like this, however you couldn’t bare to see everyone argue over such childish stuff like he said this? he that? bullshit.

Still the party is lively nethertheless, Juyeon appears from the patio seemingly having brought more beers from the garage in his hands.

Before he even began to speak a bloodcurdling scream bellows through the hallways, the sound of footsteps dashing downstairs and muffled tears getting closer to the kitchen.

“It’s Sangyeon, he’s dead! The front door is wide open, someone came in and killed him.” Chanhee screams, the palms of his hands covered in blood, trembling in fear with tears falling down his face. Juyeon gets up and dashes up the stairs followed by Sunwoo and soon Hyunjae as he hears the commotion.

Kevin calls the police, on the kitchen landline and you run to hug Chanhee and sit up down on one of the chairs as you shush and cradle him.

Soon sirens were arriving and red and blue lights flashed through the windows, who could of done this? It can’t be one of us? Surely.

🔪. 2.AM IN SALTCLOVER, 1st November 1996

News Anchor: “A killer is indeed on the loose, at a local house party where locals teens were celebrating the halloween season, they found their friend in the bathroom murdered. The police have advised no one to leave their homes until further notice.”

♫ SOMEBODYS WATCHING ME - ROCKWELL ♫ playing over the following scene.

“I mean how did he even get into my house? You don’t understand I’m terrified!” You fiddle with the wire of the telephone as the police search through your home. Eric on the other end of the line agrees, tries to calm you down a little bit, but at the same time he’s seemingly also chill about the situation.

You’d all been questioned on the scene, and whilst they tried to catch the killer who could be nearby, any extra evidence collection was postponed until further notice.

“We’re all done here.” A police officer pops his head through the crack of your door, you quickly ended the call, briefly saying bye to Eric. “Are you sure you’ll be okay tonight?” He further asked taking off his hat and giving you a comforting smile.

“Yeah I’ll manage.” You reply with a nod, knowing you were smart enough to keep everything under control on your own.

As the officer and forensic clean up team left, you closed your bedroom door feeling to ill to use the upstairs bathroom with the events of tonight. Before the landline began to rattle and ring on your bedside table again.

“What Eric?” You laugh picking up the phone expecting him to be there on the other end of the line again like he always was, yapping for hours and unable to control his talkative tendencies.

“Hi y/n.. how’s your evening.” A low unrecognizable male voice speaks through the line, you tangle your fingers in the wire and stand to look out of your bedroom window.

“Who’s this?” You ask with an eyebrow raised, a shiver tickling your spine at the sheer depth of his voice.

“How about I get to know you first, what’s your favorite horror movie?” He asked tauntingly, his breath heavy and menacing.

“Hmm.. Probably Friday the 13th why?” You answered the question before rolling your eyes, thinking a man had probably been looking for people to prank call in yellow pages and stumbled across you.

“Well answer me this question, I can see you looking outside but no one is there honey.” He spoke with a sly chuckle after pretty much every word he said and that’s when slight fear started to cross your mind.

“Exactly no one’s there, you’re just trying to scare me liar.” You laugh at him trying to scare you, after all there’s plenty of creeps out there and so many ghostface wannabes. He couldn’t possibly strike twice in one night.

“Oh but don’t you see I am.” With that a firework was set off on your front porch causing your breath to fall short, watching the red lights hit your window causing you to fall back on to your bed clumsily.

“What do you want from me?” You tremble slightly but assert confidence in your voice as he tries to taunt you from the outside.

“Oh I just want you to answer my questions.” You could hear the nature from outside, the trees rustling behind him as he spoke.

“What if I just hang up?” You asked before you heard him begin shouting down the line in a vicious tone about how idiotic you were being.

“Then I’ll gut you like a fish you clever bitch.” He spat clearly violently annoyed you were not taking him seriously, which irked him to the core. Covering your mouth, you realized he was being serious, this is what happened to Sangyeon on the phone? tears beginning to well as he begins to ask his question.

“In the movie Friday the 13th, what happened to the camp in 1958 that made it close?” He asked you a question about the movie you’d seen so many times, you can’t possibly get it wrong.

“Oh,I know this! Jason drowned and everyone thought he was dead..” You bit your lip anxiously, hand shaking, but you knew it ! That’s how Jason got away with it, they all thought he was dead!

“Incorrect. That was in 1957, there was a serial murder at the camp in 1958-” After he spoke those words you slammed the phone down, you should have thought more about your answer but you couldn’t help but think he would have killed you if you’d gotten it right anyway.

You almost wanted to crawl into a hole as the phone line ended, before you heard an immense crash echoing through halls and coming the front door. Footsteps creaking on the staircase, the end was near as the black fabric of his suit trailed the wooden floors.

You grabbed your star light, the metal cage that housed a bulb was the sharpest object in the room before creeping towards your bedroom door, locking it, ready to strike. You weren’t the dumb character in their horror movie, you were the smart one who put up a fight, you will be the one that escapes.

A knock at your door made your heart beat faster before a series of banging, splitting the wood of the door as the killer burst through in the grim reaper mask, gripping a sharp silver dagger.

You threw the lamp with every bit of strength and the killer fell to the ground with the metal wires of the light lodged in his stomach. You ran past him before he got up and chased you down the staircase, grabbing anything on your way and throwing it right at him. You tried to get out the front door but it was bolted shut and ghostface mask grabbed the back of your shirt holding you against him with the knife to your neck. Complying with him by putting your hands up before suddenly breaking free of his grip and pushing his hand away, it was clear he wanted to hear you scream and at least hear you suffer before being able to kill you.

After managing to escape you dash into the kitchen, throwing a chair to break the patio doors which were likely also locked and ran around towards the back gate, also bolted shut and nowhere near budging.

The killer stood at the end of the alleyway next to your house, slowly stepping closer as your back pressed against the back gate. Next to your foot there was a brick that prevented the gate from swinging open in the night, grabbing it you lobbed it straight towards the killer, hitting him square where he was already injured.

“How dare you kill my friends asshole.” You yelled at the top of your lungs before placing both feet on the metal bars of the fence and jumping over with a struggle, barely landing on your feet. You ran onto the street in front of your house and yelled for help, before you saw headlights driving towards you.

The worn down brick red car only belonged to one person you knew, Juyeon who stuck his head out of the window and called your name as you looked at him with fear in your eyes. Panicked with no other option, you ran towards the passenger door swung it open with the last of your strength and got in.

“Darling what happened?” Juyeon looked at you with concern, his eyes then scanning the wind mirrors and rear view as you told him to drive over and over again in pure terror that you wouldn’t make it out in time.

“He got in again, he was asking me about all these horror movies and tried to kill me-“ You rambled on out of breath, your body covered in tiny cuts and bruises from all the falling and colliding with things.

“Well you escaped, that’s the main thing.” The only words Juyeon could find were those, as he exhaled his smoke with the burning cigarette he held outside the car window.

“I guess so, why are you driving up here anyway?” You manage to gather your thoughts and slightly move away from the original problem at hand, since if you thought about it anymore you would force yourself into a heart attack.

“I was actually coming to check on you, I mean your parents being away is not exactly ideal in the current climate. Your phone line has been engaged for the past hour.” Despite this being a believable statement, you still couldn’t understand his suspiciously peaceful composure.

You looked at him observing his tranquil features as he looked back you with a pair of innocent doe eyes, almost a face you believed read “how could little ol’ me do anything wrong?” Perhaps you were overthinking everything.

“What?” He looked at you confused, making sure to do a double take at the face you were pulling. “You don’t think I’m the killer do you?” He added a slight chuckle of disbelief before pointing to himself with his other hand on the wheel.

“No. Obviously not. He was in the house, you’re here.” You shake away your thoughts and turn your attention to the view from out the window, the houses, the cars and anything else you could analyze but him.

“I think you’re suspicious, I can’t lie.” He took another puff of the cigarette and shook his head, the black streak of hair he kept gelled moving towards one side.

“I’m not! The more you say I am the more I’m going to assume.” You started to get a bit frustrated with his assuming accusations and and waved your hands to confirm your point just to end his train of words.

“Yeah well you know I wouldn’t to do that to you.” He sighed, flicking the but out of the window and returning both hands to the wheel with a sad face.

🔪5AM SALTCLOVER, 1st November 1996

🚔 COUNTY SHERRIF’S POLICE DEPARTMENT

“Deputy Lee I swear I’m telling the truth. He was there the phone rang, my patio door is smashed through because I was trying to escape.” You try to plea with the officer questioning you, seemingly not believing your story since the door had been smashed through the wrong way at the back.

“I mean look at her she’s all cut up, I don’t understand why you can’t believe her. It will be her next if you don’t do anything, just record it for your brothers sake” Juyeon chimed in, being a witness and also arriving just in time to save you from the mess.

“Look I’ll record it y/n, because it’s you and I know you wouldn’t do that to me. But if you are lying to me and giving false leads you’ll hear about it. Don’t bring my brother into this again.” Deputy Lee was unfortunately Sangyeon’s brother and having to work on a case that involved the murder of his little brother was clearly taking a toll on him, like the rest of us he looked like he hadn’t slept in weeks.

🔪 LEE JUYEON’S HOUSE, FARMLAND OUTSKIRTS OF SALTCLOVER

“Did he wear the costume?” Hyunjae burst in with the rest of the boys, his first question being rather on brand for his lack of care about the situation since all he knew about murder was the movies. Maybe that was his coping mechanism.

“Did he threaten to slice your guts?” Changmin further asked in the parade of questions, not asking if you were okay first because in his eyes, ‘oh well you look fine.’

“Are you okay?” Younghoon asked, Kevin and Chanhee crouching beside the bed you were sat on and making an effort to hold your hand and smile at you bitter sweetly.

“She’s staying here whilst her house is investigated top to bottom for trace of the killer, plus she’s much safer here.” Juyeon stood beside you, his arms folded across the clean white tank top he was wearing.

Interrupting the chaos of the entourage that had come to visit you, the landline began to call again faintly heard from the down the stairs.

“y/n it’s for you sweetie.” Juyeon’s Mom stepped through the door with a smile, letting you know she was going out for the night with Juyeon’s stepfather to a salsa party.

“Hi sweetheart, it’s not over yet. Which door am I at? Guess right.” The same mysterious voice almost whispered down the line as your hands begin to tremble.

“No… No.. Stop doing this and leave my friends alone.” You yell as the boys watch you from across the corridor, shaking in fear of their own.

“Which door? you stupid bitch.” The killer on the line grows angry, he could be at any door at any time who knows? You had to get this right, you can’t lose anymore friends.

“The patio.” You blurted out thinking of the patterns in horror movies and how he would usually break in the past few weeks.

“Incorrect.” He laughed at your petrified screaming, making a fake buzzer noise across the line to taunt you. With that the bathroom swung open revealing ghostface, you began running into the bedroom and locking the door. Juyeon grabs a pistol from beneath his bed and aims at the door that was thrashing. Hyunjae grabs a chair whilst the others hide behind the bed.

The killer wearing the costume store ghostface bursts in, snatches the chair from Hyunjae and battles with him, eventually crushing him beneath the chair as the others scream. Juyeon guides you out of the room behind him and hides you in the closest closet whilst he stands outside telling the others where to hide.

You could hear Sunwoo above all the screaming seemingly battling with Juyeon to get him to move to his own hiding spot, whereas Juyeon insisted he had the weapon he had to be the one to get rid of the killer.

“Don’t kill me. Please this isn’t a god damn movie and I want to be in the sequel.” You heard a shrill voice from outside the closet, muffling your whimpers you clamp your hand over your mouth, until all falls silent on the upper floor and chaos sounds out downstairs. You burst out of the wardrobe to see that Juyeon is gone and on the floor lies Chanhee still breathing but barely, stab wounds oozing with blood across his body.

“Chanhee get in the wardrobe I’ll be back, I’m so sorry.” Tears of fear falling from your eyes like mini waterfalls, as you helped him into the safe place and closed it gently to not alert anyone of his whereabouts, he can survive this, you just have to be quick.

You ran into the kitchen where you saw Eric, knife in hand trying to fend of the murderer but clearly to scared to even use the weapon, you grabbed one of the tall breakfast bar stools and pinned the killer to the counter with its legs with all the adrenaline you had you were able to move quick enough.

“WHO ARE YOU?! TAKE THE MASK OFF.” You screamed at him as he was stuck, he surrendered and brought his hand to his head, gently tugging off the mask.

There stood Changmin drenched in red smudges of blood, smiling like a maniac and laughing at the scene as if you were nothing to him. These years of friendship were nothing to him, what happened? Why? Too many thoughts crossed your mind upon seeing him of all people behind the mask that you almost dropped the strength of the chair you were holding.

“What happened to you? Have you become a psycho, you’ve watched too many damn movies.” You spat with unreal fits of rage at how a friend could’ve done this to all of you, how could he kill his lifelong best friends? After just a few horror movies…

“Psychos are psychos y/n don’t you dare blame it on the movies.” He used the phone voice changer to taunt you. before pushing the chair and you to the ground and grabbing your arm twisting it behind your back and holding a black handheld gun to your head.

“Where’s Juyeon? Where’d you get that gun?” You panicked as you saw the item in his hand, struggling to release yourself from his grip as Eric stayed cornered in the kitchen not knowing whether to strike or not.

“It’s all part of the game y/n, you should have answered the questions right.” Changmin laughed cackling at how pathetic your fear had become to him, that sweet boy you knew years ago had lost himself to a few movies.

“Don’t touch her.” Another ghostface mask appears, there can’t be two, all along there was two? Who else would have done this to you? The mask is pulled off revealing Hyunjae?… “The deal was you wouldn’t touch her.”

“And the deal is off.” Changmin smiled with a cheerful voice, clearly being the mastermind of the situation between the two of them. Shock overtook your fear and you broke out of Changmin’s grip with a sharp snap.

They began to argue like children before Hyunjae snatched the gun out of Changmin’s grip with a struggle, shooting him to the ground.

“Princess don’t be angry. He made me do it, he told me we would be together and we could be happy just us two.” Hyunjae stepped closer to you wielding the gun in his hands, pointing it closer towards you without a finger on the trigger.

“No Hyunjae, you’re a fucking psychopath. You were apart of this all along.” You couldn’t hold back the tears of betrayal that fell from your eyes, as he took the gun and traced it down your jawline looking at you with bright proud eyes.

In the corner of your eyes, you saw Juyeon quietly sneaking into the room, his torso littered with stab wounds blood seeping through his white tank top, visibly and seriously injured. However in his hand, he held the dagger of the original killer, you stayed quiet, not looking at him and stalling Hyunjae who had you pinned against the counter.

“It’s almost over now darling, just Eric left! be my prize! Just me and you, everyone else is gone! They’re dead! Although you would look gorgeous with your guts loose too.” He looked at you with the same bright eyes he always did, as if nothing he was doing was wrong he was about to turn to kill Eric, however, that’s when he screamed.

Juyeon pushed him to the ground, the dagger slicing straight through his chest, blood seeping through the costume as Hyunjae groaned in the pain he’d been able to deal but not tolerate.

“It’s over for you, asshole. Who’s scary movie is it now?” Juyeon laughed before wincing, the hole in his own stomach bleeding profusely.

“Juyeon lie down.” You grabbed the back of his head as he began to fall to the ground, you had no tears left to cry and now you had to be the strong one. You lied him down and began putting pressure on his wound.

“POLICE!” Deputy Lee walks into to the kitchen, mortified at the scenes of the house, it was over, it was all over. The surviving boys were rushed into hospital to recover, for you and Eric it was time to heal emotionally together, because it was all you had.

🔪6AM SALTCLOVER, 5TH NOVEMBER 1996

And in the end, it was most of the boys that survived their injuries, having lost most of your childhood friends it was rough but after living a life of loss, you had to deal with what you had.

Haknyeon wasn’t doing well, he’d managed to escape the house that night but entered intensive therapy and you’d visit him sometimes but he didn’t seem to trust you guys since the entire thing. Fair enough.

On the bench seated outside the hospital, you held 4 bouquets of flowers, one for Juyeon who saved you that night, One for Sunwoo for being so brave and trying to save his friend, one for Chanhee who needed them more than anyone right now even if he wasn’t awake.

“Eric?” You asked kicking your legs waiting for the visiting hours to open on the hospital ward they were situated.

“Hm?” He hummed, listening to music through his walkman and looking up at you thoughtfully.

“Do you think we could have changed things?” You asked with a sigh, the question that had plagued your mind for weeks.

“Probably. But it’s over now, we’re safe.” He replied and brought you into his touch to pat your head comfortingly as the birds sang melodies of the early morning around you.

It was all over, but unfortunately you’d lost too much.

“I just can’t believe they’re gone.” You burst into tears as Eric brought you in for a hug immediately, trying to hush you back into composure.

That’s if you believe they’re dead, or is it all just a game.

🔪.

a/n: so guys ! happy late spooky season 🎃 here at cloverdaisies! this has been in the works for a while and i would love to thank @winterchimez for proofreading my plot and @kimsohn encouraging me to finish it ! 🤍 if you’re reading this remember to go support deoboyznet!! you’ll find plenty other fics and writers there if you don’t know about it already :) ! this fic may not be everyone’s cup of tea but it certainly is mine ! this is massive dedication to original scream franchise, one of my biggest interests outside of kpop… it’s a bit longer than usual for me as well but yk <3