#I’m going to scream what the hell | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

dreamersbcll · 1 year ago

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What if chad doesn't stop tara from opening quinn's door in the apartment scene? Let's suppose that ghostface was right behind it, waiting for someone to do something. Maybe when tara opens it, ghostface pulls her inside and locks the door... please, if you decide to write this, make it angsty <3

so, i did a mashup of au’s. here’s the other inspo post….

“Guess”

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The fucked-up part of the whole night was that Tara genuinely thought they would eat dinner together until the screaming started. The newly coined Core-Four gets one nice moment together, which again is ruined by some death wish. Once the screaming began, the facade of a good life was stripped away, and the kids ran toward the source.

Tara didn’t know why she went to open the door. Every fiber in her being begged her to back away from the door, but naturally, she ignored her instincts. She instead reached for the door handle, feeling the electricity crackle between her fingertips and the knob. She knew deep down that something was wrong.

But she twisted it anyway.

The second she did so, she looked up and made eye contact with Sam, dread swallowing her up whole. As if Sam could read her mind, her expression quickly changed from confusion to horror. Her big sister reached out, trying to get her away from the door, and that’s when Tara was snatched.

The door violently swung open, and a gloved hand wrapped around her shoulder, yanking her inside. She could see the moment that the other kids knew- that Tara wasn’t coming out unscathed. She could feel her stomach drop, her hands instantly shaking. The door slammed shut behind her, and the noise of something being shoved in front of it made her ears ache.

As she was thrown to the bedroom floor, she saw Quinn’s dead body strewn across her bed. Blood spattered the walls and sheets, and she cried out as she fell into a puddle. Hot and sticky, and her head throbbing, she stared at Ghostface, a sneer across her face.

Though every part of her was terrified, she put on her brave face, snarling back at her latest assailant.

“You better make it fucking hurt. My sister will tear you apart, limb by limb!” she growled, ignoring the throbbing in her panicked chest.

Ghostface tilted his head at Tara, and she swore she saw him smile.

“I hope she does, Tara,” he sneered back, raising the knife.

Before she could react, she kicked her square in the head, knocking her out cold.

——

Turning around towards the sound of screaming, Ghostface stared at the door, watching it shake. He could hear the bitchy sister beg for Tara, and the conceited asshole Chad threw his body against the door. It didn’t matter what they prayed for or who they begged. He was in control now.

Making his way to the shaking door, he pulled out his knife, tapping the blade against the door. Immediately the pounding stopped, the screaming dying to a bated breath.

This was too fucking easy.

Scraping the blade against the door, he spoke quietly, just above a whisper.

“Hey, Sam. Let’s play a game,” he taunted, goosebumps rising as the shrill knife scraped against the old wood.

A gasp could be heard, and someone stumbled back across the hardwood floor onto the couch. He grinned, knowing that he had them all wrapped around his finger.

Her voice, low and controlled, broke the silence.

“Try me, motherfucker,” she hissed back, her voice strained.

Without warning, he slapped his free hand against the door hard enough to make the ground jump and shriek in fear. God, did this feel fucking good. He didn’t care if he was going off-script. This was what he wanted. It was his game, and they had to play it.

How delightful.

Leaning against the door, he let his mask touch the wood, relishing how he could hear Sam breathing fast. The bitch may be a stone-cold murderer, but behind that, she was still a scared little girl.

And he was about to teach her what happens when you kill his brother.

“Question game. Three questions, to be exact. Each time you’re wrong, I get to stab your sister. If you get them right, she lives with minimal brain damage. If you don’t decide in the next ten seconds, I’m gutting her like a pig on Quinn’s bedroom floor,” he snarled, slapping his hand against the door again.

It took a few moments of frantic whispers and soft cries of Don’t do it, Sam, but he eventually heard the words he was waiting for.

“Fine. You lose, and I get to tear you apart,” she gritted back, slamming her hand against the wall.

He grinned and picked up the crumpled girl by the hair.

This was too easy.

——

Sam doesn’t know why she decided to play into this asshole’s delusions. Nothing good was going to come of it. She knew deep down that she was doing the wrong thing, but what could she do? She was damned if she did and damned if she didn’t.

Tara was going to bleed either way. Whether or not Sam burst into the door armed and ready to fight, Tara would get hurt. It didn’t matter what she did.

It didn’t fucking matter.

Digging her nails into the soft wood, she could feel the twins flanking her side. Annika was behind her, pressing gently against the small of her back. Taking a deep breath, she shuddered, the twins holding her upright.

“Okay. Now fucking get on with it, you sorry sack of shit,” she blurted out, trying to sound intimidating. But her shaky voice gave her away.

She could hear someone dragged across the floor, presumably her little sister—dead weight. Tara sounded like dead weight. She could feel her stomach churn and twist, knowing that her baby sister was in the hands of a butcher with a knife.

“Sam?” a confused Tara slurred out, yelping as she was slapped again.

Sam punched the door in a rage. “Don’t fucking touch her!”

After what seemed to be an eternity, he finally answered her, laughing at her pain. She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to control her breathing. If she broke focus, Tara would die, and she couldn’t have that. They had just reunited.

They had just reunited.

“Question one, Sam. No freebies,” he drawled, Tara whimpering at his feet.

The twins sniffled, Anika, rubbing Mindy’s back. Sam could feel her hands trembling, and she took a deep breath, trying to control it. The kids needed her to stay upright. The kids needed her to be strong.

Fuck, Tara needed her to be solid and correct.

“How many people have you killed?”

Sam felt her mouth go dry, her hands limp at her side. This wasn’t a trick question, just one she wasn’t expecting. But she knew she was right because she had killed zero people. She smiled to herself, knowing that Tara would be safe this round. Mindy breathed a sigh of relief, Chad putting his face into his hands.

“None. I’ve killed none. Fuck you!” she spat, curling her hands into fists.

“Wrong answer!” he taunted, and before she could react, Tara screamed in pain.

A guttural scream of torment and the sound of skin torn apart by a knife. Chad stumbled backward, turning green, while Mindy fell to her knees, dragging Anika down.

Sam stood there, swaying slightly on her feet. She could hear Tara crying, the type of cry she had when she was in distress. It had been a while since Sam had heard that, that cry of despair. She should’ve known that this asshole had some fucked-up vendetta against her. Another conspiracy theorist who couldn’t accept that she wasn’t guilty.

“Let her go! Take me! Let her go!” she screamed, throwing her shoulder into the door. She felt it splinter under her touch, but before she could throw her body against the door again, she heard Tara wail in pain again.

“Careful, Sam. That’s against the rules—quick follow-up question for you. How many times can I stab your little sister before she bleeds out?” he gloated, laughing maniacally at his words.

She tugged at her hair hard. “That’s not fair! That’s not a real fucking question! Fuck you! Let her go!” Sam wailed, slamming her hands against the door.

Tara coughed a wet, sticky cough. “Sam, please,” she begged softly, coughing again.

There wasn’t anything Sam could do. She was stuck in hell, and she couldn’t do a goddamn thing to claw her way out. Tara was begging for her to help, but the game was rigged. No matter what, her baby sister would bleed- and Sam couldn’t control how much.

She slammed her hand against the door again, pathetically.

“Please,” she whimpered, tears welling up in her eyes as she heard Tara take a ragged breath in and out.

“Answer the question, Sam. How many people have you killed?”

Tara whimpered, and the twins behind her sobbed. Sam could feel every part of her body fighting the answer that sat on her tongue, but she had to give in. There wasn’t a backup plan. This was it- this was the end.

And she had to play into it.

“One. I’ve killed one,” she whispered, digging her nails into the door.

Ghostface laughed, a loud, mocking sound. The twins flinched, and Sam nearly stumbled back from the noise. It was an unnerving sound echoing throughout their apartment, one that wouldn’t ever be forgotten.

After a bit, he collected himself, clearing his throat.

“Do you know what it’s like to lose a sibling, Sam?”

Her stomach bottomed out, and her knees hit the floor. She pressed her forehead against the door, her nails digging into the wood, blood oozing down the wood.

“Please. Please don’t do this,” she begged, tears flowing down her face.

She could hear her baby sister crying, mumbling through her anguish and tears. He slapped Tara, the sound making Sam flinch in pain.

“I know what it’s like. You killed my sibling. I think it’s only fair if I kill yours. A life for a life,”.

“Richie was your sibling?” she stuttered incredulously, Mindy gasping behind her.

He laughed again, plunging his knife into Tara, who cried out in pain.

“She has a brain, ladies and gentlemen! The killer, the cold-blooded murderer, Sam Carpenter, has a brain!” he crowed, stabbing Tara again.

Ghostface dragged Tara towards the door, pressing her against it. Sam could practically feel Tara’s breathing, and she pressed a shaky palm against the door, trying to soothe her little girl.

It didn’t matter. This was the end. She could feel Tara's blood ooze under the door, soaking into her jeans. Tara breathed raggedly, her voice thick with blood.

“Sam. It’s Ethan. He’s the killer,” she softly whispered, her voice barely registering in Sam’s mind.

“Ethan?” she replied incredulously.

If she were wiser, she would’ve kept her mouth shut. But she wasn’t.

“Hi, Sam. Goodbye Tara!” he triumphantly yelled.

The screams of the group echoed throughout the building, Tara’s blood covering their floors.

#scream #sam carpenter #tara carpenter #carpenter sisters #ao3 author #my writing tag #this took a left turn and straight to hell #this is the angst you wanted. this is what you wanted!#don’t yell at me i’m sorry #AU: go with grace

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