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𝙑𝙊𝙇𝙐𝙈𝙀 𝑰. ── CASUALTY OF YOUR DREAMS!

❛ 𝒅𝒐𝒏'𝒕 𝒇𝒆𝒂𝒓 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒑𝒆𝒓 ❜
─── chapter six! ❫

006. ╱ ✹ ⠀⠀ ❝ green flags turned red
from all my bleeding. . . i fell quickly
for words, misleading. ❞

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     THE RIGHT SIDE OF KYNLEE'S BODY CRASHED INTO THE PASSENGER DOOR OF RICHIE'S CAR. A groan left her lips, and she winced. For most of her teenage years, one of her favorite guilty pleasure video games was Grand Theft Auto. It was so much fun to play, but to live? Driving recklessly through the streets with little to no regard for civilians and the other vehicles on the road? Running over curbs and taking turns going over thirty miles per hour? So not fun.

     "Goddammit!" Sam shouted in frustration, straightening out the steering wheel with one hand while holding her phone in the other. For the past few minutes, she'd been trying to reach Richie. About fifteen minutes ago, he answered her call and told her that he was on his way to the hospital. However, she hadn't been able to get in contact with him since.

     Dewey was hanging onto the handrail on the ceiling of the car, not a fan of the woman's driving. "Should you be making a phone call right now?" he asked.

     Sam ignored his question and glimpsed at Kynlee. "Kyn, can you call Tara, please?"

     "Mm-hmm. On it," the black-haired girl pulled out her phone and pressed six on the speed dial.

     "Please, please," Sam muttered under her breath, silently praying that Richie would pick up the phone. He didn't.

     The car was approaching a crosswalk and Dewey's eyes widened when he spotted a pedestrian about to cross. "Stop! Sam!" he yelled frantically. Oh, how he wished he was driving instead.

     Luckily, the woman looked up just in time to swerve the vehicle, missing the pedestrian.

     "Fuck, Sam!" Kynlee shouted, reaching Tara's voicemail.

     Dewey pocked his head between the driver and passenger chairs. "You know we have to live through this to help her, right?" he retorted, worried that they would get in a crash before they got to the hospital.

     "Just hold on."

     "I am!"

     Kynlee spoke over them, "T's phone went to voicemail and she isn't answering my texts."

     Speeding through a red light and dodging the cars in the intersection, Sam cursed. "Goddammit." She re-dialed her boyfriend's number again on speaker, desperate. They were only a few minutes away now.

     It took a moment, but the ringing stopped and the call went through.

     "Richie!" Sam exclaimed, glancing at Kynlee in relief. Finally, he answered his phone. "Are you at the hospital?"

     "Hello, Samantha."

     The rough and grave voice set off bells of familiarity in Sam and Dewey's minds. The only person in the car who'd never heard Ghostface's voice, outside of the Stab movies, was Kynlee. Her eyes were wide and she didn't know how to react. In some ways, it sounded just as she imagined but not at the same time.

     Squeezing his eyes shut, Dewey sat back down and rested his head against the headrest. Shit. The killer was already at the hospital.

     "Richie can't come to the phone right now."

     Sam's jack slackened. "Wha—"

     "He's finding out what happens to people who stick their noses in business that doesn't concern them."

     If Richie was indisposed and unable to help Tara then that meant...

     "Fuck." Kynlee groaned, looking out the window while a pit of dread filled her stomach. Tara was too injured to fully fight back. She couldn't protect herself.

     Sam let out a shaky breath. She was thinking the same thing, but also concerned about the status of her boyfriend's life. Was he already dead? And if he was, did that mean Tara was too?

     "Please don't hurt him."

     "I'll tell you what. You can choose. I'll only kill one."

     Turning her head to the left, Kynlee stared at Sam in alarm. "What?!"

     Sam felt the same chord of terror striking her. "What? Tara!" At least they were still alive.

     "Who do you want to hear die?"

     Before the eldest Carpenter had a chance to respond, Kynlee shrugged. "Fuck men. They're placeholders." In the back of the car, Dewey gave her an incredulous look. "Easy decision." Sam shook her head, tearing up, and the black-haired girl narrowed her eyes. "Sam, if you don't pick your own fucking sister, I swear to God..."

     Sam spun the wheel to the right, causing everyone to jostle in that direction. "No, please I'm begging you," she pleaded, pressing her foot harder against the accelerator.

     "I'd listen to Kynlee."

     The other two glanced at the tattooed girl to see that she'd paled. This killer wasn't just paying attention to those with ties to the past. They were paying attention to any and everyone remotely close to Sam Carpenter. That included Kynlee Manral and made sense if the killer was, indeed, a member of the core friend group.

     "Please don't hurt them."

     "Really? You can't save your own sister? All you have to do is say, "kill Richie.""

     "Exactly!" Kynlee hissed, not even ashamed that she agreed with the masked killer. Richie meant nothing to her while Tara meant everything. As Tara's older sister, she should mean everything to Sam too.

     Sam side-eyed her, slightly offended. It was an easy decision, but by talking more on the phone, she was biding time until they got to their destination.

     In the background of the phone call, the three could hear someone sobbing.

     It was Tara.

     "No! No! No! Tara! Don't touch her!" Sam could now see the hospital in the distance. "Please, please, please, I'm begging you."

     "Or say, "kill Tara," and I'll make sure to hit all the organs I missed last time."

     In between sobs, they could hear Tara choke out, "Fuck you."

     Sitting up, Kynlee unbuckled her seatbelt as they entered the parking lot. "Tara! Hey, we're coming!" she shouted, hoping her friend could hear her.

     Sam took the call off speaker and put the car into park in front of the entrance. She didn't care if people were allowed to station their cars there or not. "I'm begging you. Please don't hurt her," she pleaded again, unbuckling and hopping out of the car.

     The three took off toward the automatic doors, sprinting inside and past hospital personnel and other civilians. As they neared closer to the elevators, one of the shafts opened and a nurse exited. Unfortunately, they weren't quick enough and the doors slid shut.

     Sam and Dewey pressed the up button, praying it would open up. Kynlee's chest rose up and down laboriously and she swept her eyes around the first floor, searching for a quicker way to get upstairs. To the left, she spotted a stairwell.

     "Fuck this. I'm taking the stairs," she told the adults, abandoning Dewey's side.

     Dewey's eyebrows furrowed. "What?"

     Not bothering to glimpse over her shoulder, the black-haired girl yelled, "The elevator is going to take too long. T was moved to the fifth floor. I'm not wasting time!" She couldn't hear if Sam or Dewey called out to her or not for she was already inside the stairwell and heading up.

     Wes and Judy were gone. Tara wouldn't be next.

     It'd taken a little less than thirty seconds to get to the fifth floor. Much of that was due to the fact that Kynlee had taken two to three steps at a time.

     Quietly opening the door, she peeked her head out and looked to the left and to the right. Nothing. All the lights were out and it was dead silent. She stepped into the hallway and soundlessly closed the door behind her; she couldn't give away her presence.

     Placing one foot in front of the other, Kynlee inhaled deeply. There was fear and anxiety trailing up and down her body and every part of her wanted to turn back around, but she couldn't. The love she had for her friends was what drove her to do a lot of things in life and she was loyal as hell. Nothing anybody said or did could ever stop her from helping her friends. It didn't matter how far she had to go or what she had to do, she was going to be there and fight for them no matter what.

     Kynlee turned down a corridor and gulped when her eyes landed on the scene. Yards away and to the right was an empty and opened hospital room with Richie laying in the entrance. Blood covered his left forearm from an open wound and he appeared unconscious. In the distance, near the opposite end of the hallway, stood the infamous masked killer. Their back was facing her, but she knew it was them.

     Ghostface was still on the phone with Sam and taking purposefully slow steps toward the youngest Carpenter. Tara was on the floor and crawling her way to the elevator at the end of the hall. A wheelchair was knocked on its side behind Ghostface.

     Perfect.

     Kynlee silently rushed to the wheelchair and grabbed its handles.

     "Maybe you're too weak for this franchise," Ghostface growled into the phone, raising their knife.

     At the same time, the teenager behind them held Tara's wheelchair up in the air.

     "Maybe you're right or maybe I'm just stalling for time, fuckhead."

     A ding chimed and the elevator slid open to reveal Sam and Dewey, who had his gun drawn out. In unplanned unison, Dewey shot at Ghostface and Kynlee chucked the wheelchair at their head.

     Ghostface dodged out of the way and escaped into another stairwell, managing to miss both the bullet and the wheelchair. Instead, the chair crashed into a wall and broke through the drywall while the bullet struck Kynlee in the right arm.

     Kynlee let out a cry and toppled to the ground at the force of the hit. She grasped onto her arm in pain, watching as blood leaked through her fingers. Out of the corner of her eye, she finally noticed one of the police officers who was supposed to be stationed outside of Tara's room. His neck was slit open and blood covered his uniform, forming a gigantic crimson pool around his body.

     Jaw-dropping, Kynlee didn't know how to process what she was seeing. Hell, she was still coming to terms with the fact that she was just shot.

     "Tara!" Sam ran to her sister's side, dropping to the ground.

     Bright red streaks surrounded Tara on the tiles and the bandage on her left hand was bloody and unraveling. Tears tumbled down her cheeks and she was in agonizing pain.

     "I'll get Richie and Kynlee!" Dewey shouted, limping to the other two. He went to Richie first since he was furthest away. "Come on, Richie," he grunted, seizing the young man by the bicep and pulling him up to his feet. To the side, he could see the tattooed girl clutching her arm. Blood coated her hand and the sleeve of her shirt. "Oh, my God," Dewey breathed, dragging himself and Richie toward her. "Did I shoot you? Are you okay?"

     "What the fuck does it look like?! Yeah, you shot me!" Kynlee shouted, both annoyed and in excruciating pain. Involuntary tears clouded her vision. Getting shot by the old Sheriff of Woodsboro was not on her bucket list. Neither was ever seeing someone's slash-opened neck.

     Dewey frowned. "Shit. I'm sorry," he apologized, letting go of Richie and extending a hand out to her. "Come on, let's get you downstairs and to a doctor." When the girl grabbed his hand, he glanced at Sam, who held Tara in her arms. "Get the elevator!"

     The second Kynlee got to her feet and Sam had managed to get her and Tara to the elevator, Ghostface jumped out of the stairwell. It'd happened so suddenly that nobody had time to prepare themselves for the attack. The closest person to the stairwell was Kynlee, the first to be hit.

     Everything happened so fast that it was a blur. All Kynlee knew was that the pain she felt in her arm was made a hundred times worse. A knife went through the top of her right arm twice and Ghostface grabbed her by the roots of her hair before slamming her body into the wall. She was dropped to the floor and the back of her head hit the tiles with a loud smack.

     "K!" Tara wailed, wishing she were able to run to her friend's aid. Sam watched in horror, frozen in place with her finger hovering above the button to go down.

     Picking their next target, Ghostface raced at Dewey and pinned him against the opposite wall.

     Richie frantically scrambled backward on the ground, eyes wide. "Holy shit."

     A shot came from the firearm in Dewey's hands, but the bullet went through the ceiling. With gritted teeth, he propelled one foot in front of the other, driving himself and the killer across the hall. He slammed Ghostface into the other wall. Grabbing hold of the arm that was clutching tightly onto the knife, Dewey used it to throw them over his shoulder. As he did that, though, they dragged him down too.

     Dewey's backside hit the tiled floor with a thud and his gun slid out of reach. He and Ghostface shared a split-second stare before both crawling to it.

     Right as the man reached for the weapon, Ghostface flipped him onto his back again. They swung the blade down, but Dewey managed to stop them by grasping their arm. The tip of the knife wavered above his chest and he kept forcing it away. Ghostface swung their other arm over, trying to force the knife down with both hands this time.

     "Not... today..." Dewey grunted, gathering the strength to yank the masked assailant down. They hit the top of their head against the floor and Dewey took the chance to headbutt them before bashing the bottom of his boot against their torso. He reached for his gun.

     Ghostface fell over but quickly got to their feet. They didn't have much opportunity to make another move as Dewey shot them three times in the chest. Each shot sent Ghostface stepping back until they crashed into the glass bookshelf, shattering it. The shelves collapsed to the floor, along with Ghostface while glass spilled everywhere.

     Dewey stood up and holstered his gun. "Kynlee, come on," he huffed, limping over to her side. The killer was seemingly unconscious or dead. Hopefully the latter. "I got you."

     Groaning in despair, the black-haired girl squeezed her eyes shut. "¡Ay, Dios mío!" she muttered, feeling the retired Sheriff bring her to her feet. Her uninjured arm was tossed over his shoulders and he held her up by placing his arm around her waist.

     "Let's get out of here." Dewey led them to where the Carpenter sisters stood in the elevator. The doors were being kept open by Sam's foot. "Richie, get up. Come on."

     Richie, who was seemingly in shock even though a single hair on his head hadn't been touched, meekly nodded. "Yup. I'm coming."

     At the sight of her best friend bloodied and barely conscious, Tara broke into another fit of sobs. It was partly in pain and partly in relief. "Kynlee!" she whimpered, wincing at the throbbing ache in her broken foot.

     No response came from Kynlee as Dewey and she entered the elevator. With the blood loss and probable concussion she endured, the girl was fighting to stay awake. It was taking everything not to give into the darkness and pass out.

     Richie was the last one to get in the shaft and he shared a nod with Sam. It was their silent way of communicating to the other that they were fine.

     Once everyone was inside, Sam pressed the circular button for the first floor.

     "The head." Dewey suddenly blurted, remembering Sidney Prescott's number one rule to surviving Ghostface killings. Without warning he transferred Kynlee out of his arms and into Richie's, stopping the elevator doors with his foot. He needed to finish this for the sake of these kids and their lives.

     "What?" Richie struggled to hold the Manral girl in his arms and gave the man a look of confusion.

     "You have to shoot 'em in the head, or they always come back."

     Sam's jaw slackened and her eyes darted from the unconscious killer to him. "Dewey! Who gives a fuck?!" This was not the time to play hero. They need to get out of there.

     Time seemed to freeze when Dewey tilted his head to the side and squinted lightly. A solemn look clouded his face. "I do." A decision had been made in his mind and there was no changing it. He was going to put an end to this bloodshed before it got worse.

     The mood dimmed significantly and Sam's face fell. Richie was speechless and kept opening and closing his mouth awkwardly. They both had a gut feeling that this was the last time anybody would ever see or talk to Dewey Riley. This wasn't going to go well.

     Stepping out of the elevator, the doors began to close in front of Dewey.

     "No!" Sam protested, trying to stop the doors from shutting. It was too late, though, and she couldn't move fast enough with Tara in her arms. The same applied to Richie with Kynlee. "Dewey!"

     "Hey, wait! Dewey!" Richie shouted, shaking his head.

     The last thing Kynlee heard was Sam and Richie's cries of protest, begging Dewey to not go back, while Tara was sobbing and reaching for her hand. As their fingers intertwined, Kynlee's eyes fluttered shut and everything darkened.

────

     THE NEWS OF DEWEY RILEY'S DEATH PAINTED EVERY HEADLINE IN THE NEWS AND EVERY POST ON SOCIAL MEDIA. The town of Woodsboro had officially lost its old Sheriff and one of its mascots of hope. The last twenty-four hours had been the lowest the town felt since twenty-eleven when Ghostface returned in the form of Jill Roberts and Charlie Walker. Misery and grief were two feelings that most felt today. Especially those closest to Dewey Riley and Judy and Wes Hicks.

     News of last night's attack at the hospital had also made the news, but scarcely any details were shared with the public. All people knew was that Ghostface was involved and the attack resulted in Dewey's death and multiple injuries to unnamed parties.

     It wasn't until an hour ago that the Meeks-Martin family learned that the unnamed parties included Sam Carpenter, Tara Carpenter, Richie Kirsch, and Kynlee Manral. Presently, they just arrived at Woodsboro General Hospital. The family was quickly walking through the parking lot, weaving in between news vans and police officers to get inside. Once they were in, they went straight for the receptionist's desk.

     Chad was the first one to reach the redhead receptionist.

     "H-Hey," he stuttered, wringing his hands together anxiously. "We're um, we're..." The words got caught in his throat and he couldn't continue. He'd barely been able to talk or function since he heard the news that morning. Tears hadn't left his eyes, yet he hadn't broken down. The only thing keeping him from crying was knowing that Kynlee and Tara were alive.

     Grimacing at her son's expression, Martha rubbed his back comfortingly.

     Mindy rolled her eyes exasperatedly. "What room is Kynlee Manral in?" she asked for her brother, leaning against the desk. She was slightly out of breath.

     The woman entered the name into the system and waited for the patient's file to pull up. "Ms. Manral is in room three-seventeen," she read, meeting the girl's expectant stare. "She's only allowed three visitors at a time, so you'll have to wait."

     "Is her father here? Has he been contacted?" Martha questioned, assuming that's who was with Kynlee.

     "Yes. The family is with her right now."

     In unplanned unison, the twins echoed, "Family?"

     The only family Kynlee Manral had was her dad, Andi. Her mother had died during childbirth, so Kynlee never knew her. The extended Manral family members had moved back to Mexico years ago and her mother's side was located in New Hampshire.

     "All right. Well, thank you. Is it all right if we wait outside her room?" Martha checked, brushing her hair out of her face. The receptionist nodded and she gave her a polite smile. Then, she guided the twins to the elevators. "I'm assuming by family she means Andi, Ibrahim, and Malik. On the way here I saw that the shop was closed. Their cars are also in the parking lot."

     Mindy hummed in agreement. "Yeah, probably."

     Chad cleared his throat and wet his lips. "Sam didn't say much over the phone and the news hasn't said anything specific about Kynzie's attack or how Dewey died. How... How bad do you think it is?" he asked hesitantly, scared of his family's answer. All of the possibilities for what might have happened plagued his mind and he was slowly losing it not knowing how badly hurt his best friend was.

     "Kynzie isn't related to anyone from the original Stab. So Ghostface doesn't have a reason to target her other than convenience. I doubt it's anything serious," the curly-haired girl reasoned, pressing the up button.

     Martha tilted her head and placed a hand on her daughter's shoulder. "Best not to mention that when you see her, yeah?" She led them into the elevator and selected the button for the third floor.

     "That's not helpful," Chad grumbled, shoving his fists into the pockets of his hoodie. His sister's answer did nothing but stress him out further.

     Mindy waved their words away dismissively. She wasn't all that worried. All that mattered was that Kynlee was alive.

     The ride to the third floor was relatively short and quiet. No one uttered a word until they stepped out and made their way down the hallway.

     "Amber, honey?" Martha called, spotting Amber Freeman pacing back and forth across from Kynlee's room. Her children stood a bit taller at Amber's presence.

     Amber averted her eyes when she heard her name. The Meeks-Martin family, minus Mr. Meeks-Martin, was present. Of course, they were there.

     "Hey, guys," she greeted blandly once the three reached her.

     Mindy's gaze swept up and down the girl's figure suspiciously. "What are you doing here?"

     "I'm waiting to see Kynni," she replied, crossing her arms defensively. "We did date, you know."

     "Yeah, until you dumped her out of the blue," the latter remarked, a bitter undertone laced within her words. The two of them were on good terms, but she couldn't help pointing out the obvious.

     Amber rolled her eyes at the comment, not bothering to acknowledge it.

     "Mindy..." Martha gave her daughter a disapproving look.

     Jaw slackening, Mindy's hands fell to her sides. "What? It's true!"

     "So, you haven't seen her yet?" Chad clarified, pointing over his shoulder at room three-seventeen.

     "No. Andi, Malik, and Ibrahim are with her now. They got here around five in the morning." Amber replied, unfolding her arms.

     Martha readjusted the grip she had on her purse. "When did you get here?" she asked curiously.

     "Roughly two hours ago."

     Mindy narrowed her stare slightly. That meant Amber had to have gotten there around seven and the news of last night's attack and Dewey Riley's death didn't hit the media until eight that morning. Perhaps Sam reached out to her, but Mindy highly doubted it. The two were not massive fans of the other. Tara was asleep and Richie would have no reason to make contact with Amber. Sure, Andi, Malik, or Ibrahim could have told the girl, but did they have her phone number? Maybe Andi did, but even then Mindy still highly doubted it.

     So, why was Amber there that early? How did she know about the attack before the public and her friends did?

     The only reason the Meeks-Martin family knew that Kynlee was in the hospital was due to Andi texting Martha at five that morning. They were the first ones to be alerted about the attack but didn't know about it until Martha woke up at eight and saw the text. Then, on the way there, Chad called Sam to get more information but was unable to get much out of the woman.

     "Have they said how she's doing? Is she okay?" Chad questioned, raising a brow.

     Amber sighed and ran a hand through her hair. "Uh, kind of. Ibrahim let me know that she's awake."

     All right, that was good. At least Kynlee was awake.

     Chad briefly shut his eyes in relief.

     "Do you know what happened?" Mindy asked, eager to learn as much as possible when it came to last night's attack. Also, Amber's response could potentially indicate if she knew more than she realistically should. Maybe she was the killer.

     Shifting uncomfortably, Amber wore a visible grimace. "I overheard some nurses talking earlier," she lowered the volume of her voice, side-eyeing an orderly who walked by. "Apparently, Kynlee was shot in the arm and stabbed."

     "Oh, my," Martha gasped, placing a hand on her heart.

     Tears naturally came to Chad's eyes at the thought of Kynlee being shot and stabbed. God, if he ever came across Ghostface...

     "Shot?" Mindy echoed skeptically, not sure if she was buying what Amber was selling. "Ghostface's M.O. has always been a knife."

     "I asked Sam and Richie about it. According to them, Dewey shot at Ghostface but missed," the Freeman girl explained.

     Chad's jaw slackened. "How the hell did he miss?!" And why the hell didn't Sam tell him any of this during their phone call?

     "Sam said that Ghostface ducked out of the way and Kynlee was standing behind him. She got hit instead."

     Martha shook her head solemnly. "Poor thing..."

     Amber glanced down at her feet. "Yeah..." she muttered.

     Suddenly the door to Kynlee's room cracked open and Malik Cyrus poked his head out. Once his line of sight settled on the small group standing in the hallway, he sighed. "Ah, hell." Everyone directed their attention to him, hoping to hear nothing but good news. "Man, fuck these hospital rules. Get y'all's asses in here. Maybe you'll be able to talk some common sense into her since she's lackin' in that department right now."

     A wave of confusion washed over the group.

     Coming from inside, they could distantly hear Kynlee shout, "Malik, I fuckin' heard that! Fuck you!" They took a collective breath.

     Andi Manral's voice came next. "Chiquita, don't even start."

     "If you don't sit your ass down..." Ibrahim Fadel threatened.

     Rolling his eyes, Malik gestured for the four to come in. His patience had been tested for the last hour and he was so close to snapping.

     Chad was quick to enter first, searching the space until his eyes found his best friend. A breath of relief left his lips and his shoulders dropped. She's okay. There were still tears blurring his vision, but they were no longer threatening to spill over.

     Kynlee was currently being forced to sit back down on the hospital bed by Ibrahim. She wore a cropped black tank top and black sweatpants, accessorized with a sling that held her right arm up to ease the pain and protect her from further injury. Bandages decorated her bicep as well. Her curly black hair was in a disheveled ponytail and there were dark circles under her eyes. She looked exhausted with a side of annoyed.

     "Ibrahim, let go of me," she growled, glaring harshly at him.

     The man released her and held his hands up in defense before flipping her off.

     "Kynz," Chad breathed, feeling like he was finally able to take a breath.

     At the sound of the nickname the Meeks-Martin family used for her, Kynlee glanced to see Chad standing at the edge of the bed. "Can you tell them to quit harassing me?" she asked loudly, jutting her chin at Pa, Malik, and Ibrahim.

     "Harassing?" he repeated, eyebrows furrowing together.

     Malik raised a hand, shaking his head. "Aight, that's an over-exaggeration."

     Andi stood up from his chair. "It's because you're being stubborn, Conejito."

     "Her behavior's probably due to the concussion." Ibrahim theorized, pursing his lips out to the side.

     Chad did a double-take. "Wait, what? Concussion?"

     "Ibrahim, I am this," Kynlee narrowed her pointer finger and thumb together, leaving the tiniest sliver of space between them, "close to—"

     "Oh, Kynzie," Martha exclaimed, making her way to Andi's side. "I'm so glad you're okay."

     Kynlee gave the woman a half-smile. "Thank you, Mar." She didn't have it in her to fake a full smile today.

     "Kynni..."

     The presence of Amber Freeman's voice took Kynlee by surprise and she blinked. The Meeks-Martin family being there made sense; Tara not being there because she was in her own hospital room made sense; Liv not being there because they weren't close like that made sense; Wes not being there because he no longer could be made sense, but Amber being there? After everything that's happened between them? After the breakup and how bitter she knew Amber still felt? It didn't make total sense.

     Kynlee watched her ex-girlfriend walk over to the bed and sit down, a relieved smile on her lips. The sight of it and the tears in her eyes softened Kynlee's heart. Amber had been worried about her.

     "Hey," she said, visibly and physically less agitated.

     The twins subconsciously squinted at the ex-girlfriends.

     "You still look hot with your battle scars and sling," Mindy spoke, interrupting the moment.

     Snorting, Kynlee met her stare. "Thanks."

     Chad maneuvered around the bed and sat on the opposite side of Amber. He rested a hand on Kynlee's knee and gave her a gentle smile. "How are you feeling?"

     Side-eyeing the jock, Amber held her tongue.

     "Annoyed." Her best friend gave her a look and Kynlee exhaled heavily. "My head hurts, but other than that I'm fine. Seriously," she stressed, wanting everyone to believe her, but she knew they didn't. Not that she blamed anyone. She didn't believe herself either. "I just want to go home."

     That last portion made people pause.

     "Go home?" Chad, Amber, Mindy, and Martha repeated, sharing glances of concern.

     "See, this is what I was talkin' about when I said y'all might be able to talk some sense into her," Malik said, pointing at the teenager. "Lee-Lee's actin' like she didn't just get her ass beat."

     Kynlee's jaw dropped and she scowled. "'Cause I didn't!" she shouted, raising a middle finger in the air. "I got shot and stabbed in one arm. The rest of my body is perfectly fine."

     "Except for your head," Ibrahim added, snapping his fingers.

     "Clearly." Malik rolled his eyes again.

     The deadliest glare she could muster was directed at both of them. If looks could kill, they'd be dead.

     "Conejito," Andi gave his daughter a deadpanned stare, his usual amusement gone. "You are staying here where you are safe. End of discussion."

     Both of Kynlee's eyebrows rose significantly high. "Safe? In this hospital?" she scoffed and removed the pulse oximeter from her left index finger. "Sam was attacked here. Tara was attacked here. Richie, Dewey, and I were attacked here. For fucks sake, I found a police officer's throat fucking slashed and Dewey was butchered trying to keep us alive!"

     A resounding silence coated the hospital room and Martha swallowed harshly at the mention of Dewey. None of them knew exactly what happened last night and the horror that Kynlee faced, but now they were getting a sneak peek.

     "Ghostface got in and out of this place without anyone realizing it. I'm not staying here. Now, that's the end of the discussion."

     Andi frowned. "Kynlee..." His heart broke for his daughter and he desperately wished that she never went to the hospital in the first place. Hell, he wished Ghostface never came back.

     "I mean," Mindy shrugged, "she's not wrong."

     "Girl, you're not helping," Malik sighed.

     Kynlee slammed her sock-covered feet against the tiles and stood up. She yanked out her IV and only made it a few steps forward when Chad stopped her. The rest of the group, minus Amber, backed up to give the two space to move.

     "Hey, I've got you," Chad said softly, holding a hand out to the black-haired girl. A reassuring smile spread across his face when she interlaced their fingers together, nodding. He had her back and always would.

     "Kynlee—"

     "I'm not staying here, Pa. I can't do it," she cut her dad off, feeling a lump rise in her throat. This was becoming too much to handle. All she wanted was to go home and lay down in her own bed, clutching onto Wes' hoodie and crying until she felt the tiniest bit better. "I—" her voice broke and she rubbed her lips together, "I won't."

     Andi recognized the signs of when she was reaching a breaking point very well. He knew when to stop pushing and this was that time. "Todo está bien, Chiquita. We'll go home."

────

     BED REST WAS IN ORDER FOR KYNLEE WHEN SHE GOT HOME, BUT SHE COULDN'T SLEEP. She thought she could, but she couldn't. Too many thoughts clouded her mind and it didn't help that her head was absolutely pounding.

     "Kynz, please come lay down," Chad pleaded for the fourth time. He was sitting on the edge of her full-size bed, playing with a stuffed penguin. The group had been at the Manral household for close to half an hour now.

     Kynlee didn't even glance in his direction. "No."

     Mindy watched from where she was sprawled out on the bed, lying against a stack of pillows with her hands tucked behind her head. "What are you looking for?" The black-haired girl was rummaging through her desk drawers, searching for God knows what.

     "An Asprin."

     "Is your head still hurting?" Mindy questioned, raising an eyebrow.

     Amber pushed off the wall she was leaning on by the desk, uncrossing her arms. "The doctor prescribed you some painkillers for the concussion. Do you want me to grab them from the kitchen?" She pointed over her shoulder to the closed bedroom door.

    The doctor prescribed her painkillers?

     "He did?" Kynlee fixed her slouched-over posture and glanced at her ex-girlfriend. If this was true, she couldn't remember it.

     Briefly darting her eyes at the twins in mild concern, Amber nodded slowly. "Yeah. He gave them to you before we left..." How hard had Kynlee hit her head?

     "Kynz," Chad called, frowning deeply. "Are you all right?" He could tell when something was wrong and she was upset. Two of the most common tells she had were avoidance of eye contact and physically busying herself to let out the anxiety and restlessness she felt. Both of which she was exhibiting right now.

     Running a hand through her hair, the tattooed girl held her breath. Involuntary tears blurred her waterline, and she quickly rubbed them away before they had a chance to fall. Everything that she went through last night was still playing on a perpetual loop in her mind. She couldn't forget a single detail and shake the fear and pain she felt. She couldn't forget the sound of Tara sobbing and the shot that rang out when Dewey fired his gun. She couldn't forget the dead police officer's face, his slit throat, and the blood that coated the floor.

     She couldn't.

     So, was she all right?

     "No. No, I'm not. I-I..." Kynlee covered her face. She felt overwhelmed with emotion, not all of which she could identify. Sure, talking about everything might help, but she didn't want to. Not right now. "I need... I need to hit something or someone or go on a run. Just something to—" Wait. The last time she went on a run was yesterday with Wes.

     "Aren't you glad you came?" Wes grinned, coming to a stop on the driveway.

     With her palms pressed to her thighs, Kynlee panted. "G-Glad? Wes— fuck— s-sleep with... one eye... open..."

     Breaking into a fit of laughter, the blonde wiped away the beads of sweat on his forehead. "Well, I'm gonna head home and shower. I think my mom is getting takeout for dinner. Your dad is working late at the shop tonight, right?" Kynlee nodded weakly. "You wanna join us for dinner? My mom won't mind and you'll be extra safe."

     It took almost everything in her to shrug. "Yeah, sure. I'll come over after showering. So, probably in an hour. I'm gonna head to the hospital after to see Tara, though." A small smile spread across her lips. "It's sweet, ya know? Your concern for my safety."

     "I'd be a shit friend if I wasn't concerned for your safety," he replied, kissing the side of her head. "You know I love you."

     "I do and I love you," she said, giving him a salute.

     Wes returned the salute, walking backward. "See you later, then."

     "See you later, apuesto."

     Kynlee's vision was obscured when she stumbled backward, feeling lightheaded.

     Wes Hicks was gone. He was dead and she was never going to have one more drive to school with him. No more salutes, no more holding hands and cuddling, no more Monopoly games that ended in them cussing the other out. No more anything. One of her best friends was gone.

    Without hesitation, Chad dropped the stuffed animal to the floor and lunged forward. He placed a hand on Kynlee's lower back and another on her left arm, steadying her. When he peered down, he saw that she was on the verge of tears. Immediately, his heart dropped and he pulled her into a hug.

     "Hey, I've got you. I've got you."

     Amber averted her stare down to her Doc Martins and clenched her car keys tightly. "I uh, I got a memorial party to set up," she announced, having informed the three about the party she was throwing for Wes at her house a few minutes ago. "So, I'm gonna get going. You're all coming tonight, right?" she checked, making her way to the door.

     "Uh, yeah. Probably," Mindy answered, eyeing her suspiciously. Choosing now as her cue to leave wasn't weird at all. Especially when it was clear that Kynlee needed her friends now more than ever. What she experienced was traumatic and she was upset yet Amber wanted to leave. To each their own, though.

     Chad and Kynlee didn't reply to the Freeman girl.

     Kynlee didn't even hear her words or hear her leave as she broke down crying into Chad's chest.

     "Apuesto."

━━━━━━━━┛ ✶ ┗━━━━━━━━

❝ you were on my 𝒎𝒊𝒏𝒅 all the 𝒕𝒊𝒎𝒆. . .
𝒑𝒍𝒂𝒏𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈 out a 𝒇𝒖𝒕𝒖𝒓𝒆 for 𝒕𝒘𝒐. . .

what i'd 𝒅𝒐 in a room 𝒂𝒍𝒍 𝒂𝒍𝒐𝒏𝒆, only 𝒎𝒆 and 𝒚𝒐𝒖! ❞

╭⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀╮

¡Ay, Dios mío! ━━ Oh, my God
Conejito ━━ Bunny
Chiquita ━━ Small, petite
Todo está bien ━━ All is good/All
is well
Apuesto ━━ Handsome

╰⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀╯

     apuesto... wes hicks, i still miss you </3

     rip dewey riley— i love you!

     given how compressed the story is for scream 2022 and how little screen time the side characters get, i love adding new scenes. they're necessary to tell a story that feels complete and sound.

     i also really like including moments where character's deaths are acknowledged and you get a glimpse of how the other characters react or process it. movies don't leave a lot of room for showing that and i want this book to expand upon a few things a bit more.

     i am super excited for the next chapter! get ready for the big finale! it's a long chapter!

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˒⠀𝑹𝑬𝑴𝑰𝑵𝑫𝑬𝑹. . . ▬⠀⤸

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

Don't forget to vote & comment!

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˒⠀𝑪𝑶𝑷𝒀𝑹𝑰𝑮𝑯𝑻. . . ▬⠀⤸

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

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