SHATTERED MEMORIES

SHATTERED MEMORIES

Summary: Revenge comes to collect as the Ghostface Killers are revealed and you'll do anything in your power to stop running from monsters.

Warnings: cursing, mentions of trauma, heavy violence, blood and gore, third act shrine scene is not 100% accurate but goes with the natural flow of the story

Pairings: Sam Carpenter x Reader, Tara Carpenter x Reader, Chad Meeks-Martin x reader, Mindy Meeks-Martin x Reader, Core Four x Reader

Taglist: @r-ude @fanboyluvr @kaiparkerwife @brinleighsstuff @bennzzo @vheavxly @ethanlvndry @lillunna @babybabygrogu @namesduntmatter @frasersgf @gojosbucket

Part 1

**

There was a sharp ringing in your ears.

Your chest rising and falling at a quickened pace, breath fleeting from your lungs and not enough returning.

You could tell that the people in front of you were speaking. Their lips moving but being drowned out by the muffled audio in your ears. You felt like you were underwater, a feeling that was not foreign to you because these attacks were so frequent.

Your body was in a state of panic. Beginning to shut itself down as Ghostface masks dropped to the floor and evil smirks were thrown your way. It was the same pattern every time, somebody wanted to kill you and your friends for fame or revenge and you ended the night with stab wounds and more trauma than the year before.

You weren't new to this by any means and after three encounters with Ghostface killers ... you began to get fucking bored.

Before you could stop yourself, your shoulders began to rock as a hearty laugh erupted from your belly.

Your best friend, Chad, was laying in the theatre lobby bleeding out from multiple stab injuries. Gale was in the hospital, inches from death, because she decided to answer a call with the killer. Mindy was missing, Kirby was gone, and yet here you were. Standing in front of a kooky family of three who were determined to have you buried six feet under.

What are the fucking odds that this was happening to you again.

The first two run-in's you've had, you were a kid. Too sensitive to the world and the monsters that ran it—that took things from you. To be this young you have lost so much and continue to lose as each minute ticks by.

Each minute that you don't fight back.

Ghostface was trying you for the third time and unluckily for them ... the third time's the charm.

You clutched your chest, getting some air into your lungs after your apparent mental breakdown. Sam and Tara gave you a cautious side eye, trying to figure out how you could be amused in a time like this. After everything that had just happened.

"I can't believe this is who wants to kill me." You shook your head, a smile painted on your lips. "A deadbeat dad who buys his kids love, a tinder enthusiast, and a sweet and innocent boy who turns out to be evil." Your smile dropped, eyes sharpening and narrowing at the family. "I've seen this movie before, a couple times actually."

Ethan cocked his head to the side, rolling his eyes while he pointed his knife at you. "You would know." He retorted. "You're Jill's little sister, how would you have done it?" He stepped closer towards you in his black boots.

Tara moved in front of you, brick cocked back and ready to strike. "Don't take another step." She demanded.

"It was when I saw the photos of what Sam had done, that I knew she had to pay!" Detective Bailey shouted, pointing at the oldest Carpenter as she switched into killer instincts.

Quinn held a knife to her throat, begging her, daring her to take a step out of line so she could slice her open. "That's it .. that's the killer."

Ethan's eyes lingered on you, a sickening grin on his lips. "Don't you want all of this to end, Y/N?" He asked softly, ignoring Tara's protective stance over you. "The plan never was to kill you...only scare you a little."

"Then what do you want from me?!" You snarled in his direction, stepping forward against Tara and Sam's wishes.

Quinn smiled. "To join us. Live up to your destiny and become the killer you're designed to be."

"Think about it." Ethan spoke. "Woodsboro Survivor escapes the massacre of 2011, 2022, and now this year it's all about you. Your name in lights, headlines, fame and fortune." His brown eyes grew soft, trying to convince you this is what you wanted. "With Sam and Tara gone, Gale basically dead, and God Sidney is probably on her way to Switzerland right now ... you'd be the last legacy character standing."

Your sanity snapped. A character, that is who you were to these people. You hadn't been a real person in over ten years, you were a news story, a charity case, and now a legacy character. You gently moved Tara out of your way.

"Y/N..." She said. Shooting a look at Sam to do something, but, the knife held against her skin was preventative.

You waved her off. "Leave me alone, Tara!" Your converse found themselves mere inches from Ethan's boots. His eyes lighting up with each step you took.

He had gotten to you, broken you enough that you would join his family in avenging his brothers death.

"Ethan?" You said sweetly. He tilted his head into you, listening intently to what you were going to say. "I grew up in the spotlight. I hate cameras."

You popped his nose with your elbow, hearing the satisfying crunch of it breaking. He groaned in pain, covering his now bleeding face. You took off in a sprint while he was distracted, Sam and Tara following suit. They bolted for the balcony stairs, Detective Bailey and Quinn taking the back route to beat them.

Sam climbed the ladder first, Tara right behind her. You watched carefully as Ethan laid on the floor, hollering in anger as he built the strength to get back up.

"Come on!" Tara said, rushing you to climb faster. She made it to the balcony, leaning over with her hand out to help you up. You grabbed the next step, pulling yourself up before a burning sensation flared up your back. "Fuck!"

You gasped. Blood flowing down your back from the knife Ethan dug into your skin. "You can't escape fate!" He shouted, laughing at your pain. Tara did her best to get to you, to help you get to safety but the shock of being stabbed was too much to push through. With shaky hands you let go of the ladder, falling to the floor with a thud, the wind being knocked out of your lungs.

Ethan towered over you. "There's no coming back this time, Y/N." He plunged the knife into your side, reopening old wounds and scar tissue.

Your mouth opened to scream but nothing came out. Hearing Sam and Tara cry over your body made your stomach turn. In the midst of their own battles they still found time to care for you. Now, all you'd be is another person they lost.

A shattered memory of Ghostface winning.

As much as you wanted to give up, you couldn't. You didn't want to be the reason Sidney came back, the next call she would receive detailing your death. You couldn't do that to her ... to any of your friends and family. Out of breath, you shoved your hand over your knife wound in effort to stop the bleeding. Forcing yourself to stand up and fight back.

That sharp ringing returned to your ears.

You didn't hear the gun shots ring out or Quinn's body drop to the floor. Tara was wrapped up in shoving a knife in Ethan's mouth to notice that you had limped to the main stage. One thing calling to you, telling you to take matters into your own hands.

"Good choice, little sis."

Her voice came to you. It wasn't the first time, but, it was the first time in years that you listened. You read the plaque at the bottom of her mannequin and didn't feel anything. No sadness, no anger, you were completely numb. Numb enough to follow in her footsteps.

You snatched the robe with your freehand, knocking over the mannequin and sending it to the ground with a loud crash. Peeling your blood covered hand from your wound, you shoved an arm through the robe and followed with the other. Covering your body in the thick black material that your sister once wore.

The fans always said you would do this. You would take on the mantle of Ghostface and finish what she started.

Some rumors are based in a form of truth.

"Y/N?" Tara asked. Her soft voice emerging from the main stage steps, a cautious arm out to try and reason with you. "Why do you--"

"I'm finishing what Jill started." You hissed in pain. Looking over her head, you saw Sam coming through the displays of evidence. Determination and frustration written on her face as she joined you at the peak of the shrine. Darting for her father's robe that was in pristine condition within its glass covering. "And I'm not the only one."

You had to turn your mind off for what you were about to do. That's how you knew you still had a soul. That Jill, Richie, or even Amber hadn't stolen that from you. This kill would be satisfactory in the fact that it would be over. That you'd be able to protect yourself once and for all against the demons that haunted you.

You took Ethan's discarded mask, the one belonging to Nancy Loomis, and put it over your head. Stalking over to Detective Bailey's unconscious body, you wondered if this is what it felt like for Jill when she committed those murders. If the mask gave her some kind of thrill in being anonymous so she could later present herself as a victim and claim fame.

Staring at the man who ordered your death, you tilted your head, watching his chest still rise and fall. What a privilege it was for him to be alive right now.

The brain has a powerful way of protecting you from yourself. You don't remember killing Wayne Bailey. How you and Sam stabbed him repeatedly because he fucked with your family. That memory was locked away in the deepest parts of your brain--like that night at Jill's house in 2011 or even when Amber Freeman stabbed you in the legs last year. You knew it happened but small flickers of those moments would come and go, never a fluid memory.

Your brain allowed for you regain focus as you sat on ambulance steps. Your white tee was now stained red, blood splatters sticking to your skin and your hair. The wounds in your back and side had been treated and bandaged, you were free to go, but yet you sat there. Staring off into space as you came back to reality.

A hand came into view, Sam and Tara's presence making itself known. "Come on, Y/N." She said. "We're gonna go check on Chad, he's gonna make it." You took Sam's hand quietly. Nodding to yourself as you got up, pain firing down your back from your injury. Tara grabbed your arm gently, laying her head on your bloodied arm and sighing.

"You gonna be okay?" She asked.

You looked at her for a brief moment. "Yeah. Yeah, I'll be okay this time."