Hello all, I'm back!

Sorry for the long near month wait, but I wanted to make sure that the next chapter was as well written as possible before uploading it. Several parts required revisions to make sure that they matched the right tone and that I wrote the characters right for certain moments.

This was actually a much bigger chapter (16,000+ words), but due to size and pacing it has been split in half, you'll be getting chapter three this weekend ideally. It just needs more time to be fully completed, but the extra wait will be worth it!

A huge and massive thank you to: HeroWitch, Chakira, Alexjacobsen, stevehairharrignton2016, StevenCaps, StrongMan5, Screamer10, KillerFan202, SlasherLoVer, StarFoxx5, ThundererFive, Stringbean85, Zorro01, AmmityLux, Terrifier091, Skipper908, Fantom19, LuffiK, Suzie1985, KlintonsEye, Trickster188, FreddyMoltem, SpringerTrap, Horde19, Billie227, CrystalStone12, VinCentorics, Danzzel, Freemanreader, ARMSTRONG19, Skiff012 and MichelleMix for either favoriting or following this story, your kudos means alot, I appreciate it!

HeroWitch, stevehairharrignton, StevenCaps, StrongMan5, StarFoxx5 and Trickster188, first off, watching Scream VI, that is a commitment (well done) and secondly, regarding Afton. . .what would this story be without FNAF's heart and soul. Although the Mimic theory has been making the rounds recently, an interesting twist if true, I like the idea.

How will Afton appear in this story, regarding his form, well I don't wish to spoil things too soon. ;-)

For any FNAF fans or those who are simply interested, I have been writing a sole FNAF fanfiction, 'Fazbear Escape'. It has been my main project since 2015 when I started writing it and that story continue alongside 'Predators In the Night'.

Uploads for both stories will be whenever I deem a chapter to be completed, even if it means there being month long gaps in between uploads.

Apologies if I have missed any grammar mistakes


Predators in the Night.

Chapter Two

Survival of the Ruthless

"We've only just begun, I'll never let you leave, I'll never let you rest!"

The Vengeful Spirit (Cassidy) from FNAF 7: Ultimate Custom Night.

"I really want to see, if I can literally kill two bitches with just one stone!"

There are moments where despite there being immense tension, time slows down, seconds become minutes and minutes feel like hours. Moments in time where one can feel the importance of said moment and the limited period of grace in which they must commit to a decision before the universe makes one for them.

Sam felt as though she was in such a moment. Seeing the nanoseconds pass as Ghostface's finger slowly pulled back on the trigger of their newly acquired shotgun.

She instinctively knew that in any other direction the blast would be fatal or near fatal to both herself and Tara.

Apart from one. . .

Raising her right arm upwards from her side, Sam smacked her hand into the barrel of the shotgun, forcing its muzzle to point directly upwards at the store's ceiling. She hit it with such force that she nearly knocked it out of Ghostface's hands, which further helped to undermine their accuracy.

The blast went off and the slowness of time faded, conceding to the rapid paced speed of reality.

The shotgun blast fired shrapnel into the ceiling, immediately killing the overhanging lights and plunging their section of the store into darkness.

Sam forcibly shoved herself into Ghostface's chest, knocking them backwards. Sam felt herself impact something hard and tough, but she shrugged it off. Ghostface staggered back a few steps, but they immediately detached one of their hands from the shotgun to pull out their hunting knife.

Sam didn't need to turn and run, instead Tara instantly grabbed her hand and sharply pulled her backwards away from Ghostface. By the time Ghostface had regained the initiative both Carpenters had legged it through the gap between the aisles, heading for the counter. A sharp turn to the right would take them directly back to the store entrance.

"Tara, they're shadowing us!" Sam yelled, casting frantic her eyes over at Ghostface. She could see the top of their black hood quickly moving through the opposing store aisles, mirroring their movement.

"We're closer though!" Tara shouted back through gritted teeth, as she pulled Sam pass the blood stained counter.

Despite being smaller than Sam, Tara had a strong grip, being able to drag Sam along at a decent pace. The entrance loomed before them; the screened door cleared of any obstacles by the panic-stricken crowd from earlier.

Tara reached out towards the door, she would simply barge through it like Sam had done beforehand, only now going in the reverse direction.

"TARA!" Sam screamed and suddenly Tara felt the balance of physical strength rapidly tip in Sam's favour; as Tara was swiftly yanked backwards, her hand still reaching out for the lifeline represented by the door.

BANG!

A shower of shrapnel flew by ripping into everything that laid before Tara. She and Sam were only saved by the nearby aisle providing some decent stopping power.

Tara with wide eyes realised that had she continued running forward, she and Sam would have been fatally hit from the side. Ghostface quickly appeared, emerging from the row of aisles that ran along the store's front, brandishing their shotgun and fired off another round.

BANG!

This shot missed, with both Carpenters retreating backwards, but in such a small and confined area there was little space to manoeuvre.

BANG!

BANG!

Each shot blasted items away and shredded through the aisles.

BANG!

BANG!

Sam and Tara couldn't help but scream as fragments of all sorts flew everywhere at once.

Sam pulled Tara back behind the nearest aisle she could find, before forcing the younger woman behind her, shielding her body with her own.

"Sam no, you can't!" Tara pleaded urgently, trying to push Sam behind her, but Sam kept her firmly in place.

"SAM, PLEASE YOU DON'T NEED TO BE A SHIELD FOR ME!"

"No Tara, it is me they want, they always want me, they only attack you to get through to me," Sam insisted determinedly. Her instinctive desire to protect her sister overpowered her own sense of self preservation. . .like it always did.

She was the main target, with everyone else being treated by Ghostface as mere collateral, Tara included.

"They know that I'll come running, every time!" Sam added firmly between tense breaths, quickly moving backwards in any direction that took her and Tara further out of Ghostface's gunsights.

Deep down Tara knew that Sam was right, it was pretty much always the case that Sam was the intended target. It had been the case for Amber, her former girlfriend as Ghostface viciously attacked Tara, Sam came running right back into her life, despite being gone for half a decade at least.

Just as Amber and Richie had intended, and Sam was adamant that it wasn't going to happen again.

Ghostface meanwhile was continuing to fire every time they seem to think that they had a clear view of either Sam or Tara. They maintained their advance, knocking over aisles, intentionally driving the sisters back further into the store and channelling them towards one of the store's four corners.

Soon they would run out of room and then there would be no escape.

The location for killing them wasn't ideal, but for as long as either sister was in Ghostface's sights they weren't going to let them escape. The distant sound of police sirens wailing through the air crept in and Ghostface mentally cursed themselves for being slow.

Time to step up the pressure. . .

Several loud thuds erupted into the air as the few aisles that remained standing were harshly knocked aside, throwing their contents across the floor in a messy spread, as cans leaked and anything that was glass shattered, spilling their contents.

Soon all that was left between Ghostface, and the sisters was empty space.

With there being nowhere left to hide, Ghostface raised their shotgun, putting the sisters right between its sights.

They pulled back on the trigger.

No shot came though and their immediate attempt to fire again confirmed that the shotgun was indeed empty.

Ghostface furiously threw it to one side, pulled out their hunters' knife and charged, or rather dived right at the sisters.

Sam was the target of Ghostface's attack, an attack that contained so much rage.

Ghostface slashed from left to right in a vicious frenzy, being quick enough to slash at Sam's right arm and craving a considerable cut along its length.

Sam hissed through gritted teeth as Ghostface remained unrelenting in their advance, never giving her more than a second to doge in what was already a tight space.

Slash left, slash right, Ghostface kept pushing Sam ever backwards into a corner; the intense deep breathing that Ghostface emitted through their facemask only signalled their determination to see her dead.

Ghostface delivered a hard kick to Sam's stomach, the blow knocking her right back, impacting against a side aisle. A sharp ripple of pain erupted along the whole length of Sam's spine, and she couldn't help but scream out, much to Ghostface's delight.

"You're not as strong as I believed you to be Samantha, you lasted so well against Richie, why?" they asked mockingly, they didn't expect an answer.

"Was it because of your inherited Loomis rage I wonder, or the residue anger at being betrayed by a man who you thought loved you?"

Sam quickly and rather painfully pushed herself upright, groaning as the agony burned through her muscles.

Yet Ghostface loomed over her, with their hunter's knife firmly in hand.

Their voice radiated scorn, disappointment, and an impatient desire.

"All of that rage, you were so destructive when it came to killing Richie, why don't you show me some of it?"

"It would be an honour."

"You forgot to count my rage asshole!"

SMASH!

Suddenly, a glass bottle of wine was smashed hard against the back of Ghostface's head, and they stumbled forward, groaning in pain; but still as ever they retained hold of their knife.

Tara screamed angrily as she leapt up onto Ghostface's back and tightly wrapped her arms around her throat, putting them in a chokehold. To do so when Ghostface still had his knife was on the heights of madness and yet Tara didn't care.

"You'll die you coward!" she whispered maliciously, her fingers feeling around for the voice modulator.

"You're almost right Tara," Ghostface hissed viciously through intense breaths.

"About dying. . ."

Suddenly, with immense strength that seemed unnaturally due to their relatively small size Ghostface turned and slammed themselves hard back into an in-built side aisle. The act resulted in Tara's back feeling the full force of it; immediately becoming awash in agony as she yelled out in pain.

Instinctively, she reached down and gripped Ghostface's facemask, trying to pry it off to expose their identity.

Only it wouldn't come off easily as Tara quickly discovered. It felt as though it was sealed, locked in tight, she couldn't get a proper hold.

"That won't work Tara, not like last time in Woodsboro," Ghostface sneered confidently, before spinning around rapidly on the spot.

The force of the spin threw Tara off Ghostface as she lost her grip, landing on the floor nearby with a considerable thud.

She barely picked herself upright before Ghostface grabbed her by the neck and stabbed her viciously in the upper left shoulder, digging the blade in deep.

"Although to be completely honest Tara, I have always wanted to stick something deep in you!" Ghostface remarked sadistically, as Tara screamed, feeling the cold blade scrap against her shoulder bone, white hot pain exploded across her left shoulder.

"You have always been such a tempting target next to Samantha," Ghostface muttered, fully taking in Tara's tortured expression.

"And I have been watching you for so long."

Ghostface then pulled their blade out, drawing forth more blood and kicked Tara hard in the chest right between her ribs. The force travelling through her, forcing her onto the floor with a considerable thud. Before Ghostface could seek to administer another blow, they suddenly spun about on the spot to face Sam, just as the latter launched into them with another wine bottle.

Ghostface had heard Sam's approach, but it didn't stop her from landing a direct blow against their face.

Red wine smeared the near length of their facemask, staining it, with glass shards flying in all directions, Sam tackled Ghostface to the side. She had wanted to knock the bastard over and grab his knife so she could kill them and end it.

Sam managed to hit Ghostface again with another swing of the shattered half of the wine bottle, viciously smacking them in the left side of their head.

She tried a third time, but Ghostface merely sidestepped her next swing and with their knife, slashed it all along the length of Sam's left leg, cutting through both her clothes and skin as though it was butter.

Sam couldn't help but yell in pain, feeling warm blood staring to run down her leg and into her shoe.

Ghostface smacked the wine bottle out of her hand, it shattered upon hitting the floor.

Sam was then harshly knocked against another side aisle; with Ghostface following up their attack by grabbing Sam by the head with their free hand and repeatedly slamming it against numerous shelves. Wave upon wave of pain flowed through Sam's head, crippling her concentration, but she felt the instinctive drive to fight back regardless of the odds. Blood splattered the shelves each time her head was bashed against them.

Ghostface then plunged their knife into Sam's lower left side, making her scream again to which Ghostface chuckled delightfully, seeing Sam physically wince in sheer agony.

"Although this is fun and all, you are making it too easy Samantha, it is a pity really."

"I had expected so much more on the back of your last encounter with me, but Richie and Amber will get the film that they're always wanted."

"Why do you care about them?" Sam growled through gritted teeth, as she sharply kicked Ghostface in their right leg. The blow knocked them back a bit, but it didn't stop their attack.

Nor did Sam receive an answer to her question; for there was a flash of sliver as Ghostface raised their blade, aiming straight for Sam's neck. She quickly raised her left arm and grabbed hold of Ghostface's knife arm, gripping it tightly by the wrist and trying to stop their downward swing.

Just as she raised her right arm, Ghostface swiftly seized her hand by the wrist in an iron grip of their own, threatening to crush it so great was the physical pressure.

Sam kept blinking to keep the blood out of her eyes, summoning every last bit of strength she had to keep Ghostface's knife at bay, but they were slowly gaining ground.

"Time's almost up Samantha!" Ghostface hissed, sounding both triumphant and sinister through their heavy breathing; with their voice modulator amplifying the sophistication their voice held, despite their rage.

"Your death is a perfect end for this franchise."

"Whose says that it has to end now huh?" Sam replied defiantly, feeling her arm muscles scream from the strain they were being put under.

"I do, it has ended for Tara just now."

They briefly glanced right, and Sam hesitantly followed their gaze. Her eyes immediately fell on Tara, lying on her side on the floor with a small pool of blood around her head. She was completely still, not breathing, her chest was not moving from as much as Sam could make out.

Fear and dread exploded throughout her entire being, she felt her heart break, shattering she as screamed.

"NO!"

"TARA!"

Her anguished emotional outpour was not lost on Ghostface, who despite their face being fixed in a permanent expression was undoubtedly grinning from ear to ear with cold delight.

"Don't worry Samantha, I'll shortly send you to join Tara in hell, and you can both burn together!" they gloated.

Ghostface then increased the pressure, pushing against Sam's left arm and forcing it back with the tip of their knife just barely penetrating Sam's neck around her collarbone.

"Just. . .let. . .it. . .happen!" Ghostface demanded viciously, pushing down with all their might.

Sam in her weakened state could only afford to slowly give ground, letting the blade sink in inch by painful inch, drawing forth blood.

Each eruption of pain caused Sam to loosen her grip and Ghostface took as much as advantage as they could from it, pushing the blade in.

Sam could only stare desperately into the blank eyes of Ghostface, but she could easily imagine the bloodthirsty human eyes that lay behind the facemask, practically smiling.

Sam wouldn't beg, she wouldn't bring herself down to that level, it had never worked for anyone else and Ghostface would only enjoy her suffering more.

"Fuck you, even if you win today, you'll make a mistake, you'll slip up, you bastards always do!" Sam growled aggressively, trying to push back against Ghostface's continuous onslaught.

"And we get better every time, Amber managed to kill Dewy, a legacy character and before that Jill came to within a hair's length of killing Sidney; like I said earlier, through repetition comes results," Ghostface replied confidently.

"Don't worry about Sidney though, that bitch is next, but take comfort in knowing that she'll be joining you!"

"Every franchise needs an epic conclusion, and this is ours."

"Ours?" Sam asked, she mentally scolded herself for sounding curious, like this bastard would actually tell her anything revealing.

Ghostface's reaction was what she expected, speaking with mock embarrassment.

"Oops, I said too much, but that secret. . ."

Ghostface pushed the knife in by another inch, making Sam cry out as white hot pain surged throughout her upper body.

"Can die with you."

Sam felt her right arm being bent backwards along with her left, fully exposing her chest and neck.

The police sirens, what had previously been distant wails where now terrifyingly close. Sam's vision began to blur, the periphery became hazy; her surroundings became unfocused with her vision becoming a tunnel in which only anything in her direct centre could be seen with any sense of clarity.

Ghostface leaned in, taking up the entirety of Sam's tunnel vision. They came in so close that Sam could see the lining around the facemask where it met their in-built hood and feel the hot breath of whoever was under the mask.

"Just between you and me, Samantha Loomis, personally. . ."

Hearing her real father's surname being uttered made Sam's skin crawl, it always did. In her blurred vision she glanced around at anything that could offer her a last chance for survival. In doing so her eyes fell on the still form of Tara, seemingly lying motionless on the floor.

Sam blinked; her vision momentarily cleared and then she saw things clearly.

"It has been an honour to kill you, so thank you," Ghostface muttered, almost sounding grateful where it not for the sadism that their voice carried.

Sam turned her gaze back to Ghostface, noticing in detail the extent to which the red wine had been splashed across their face, particularly in the eye holes.

"You still. . .made a. . .mistake and a. . .classic one for. . .a Loomis fanatic," Sam muttered through gritted teeth, barely able to keep her mind off the pain.

"Oh really," Ghostface replied with false intrigue, tilting their head.

"Humour me then, before the end."

Sam grinned a satisfied smile, but it was more caused by her bodily reaction to the agony she felt if anything else.

"That red wine must have. . .made your vision blurry. . .because you. . . didn't check properly."

"Huh?"

"AAAARRRRRRHHHHH!"

An angered howl erupted through the air, as a bloodied Tara slammed right into Ghostface from the left with more than enough force to completely knock them over sideways.

The complete shock of Tara's lunge attack caused Ghostface to let go of the knife, twisting it in Sam's neck as they briefly fought to retain their grasp before losing it entirely. Sam screamed as she felt the knife's blade dig in and move about under her skin, skirting her collarbone with enough agony for her to become physically paralysed with pain.

Tara though, was anything but paralysed. . .

Shrieking a manic howl as she viciously landed punch after punch on Ghostface, striking everywhere at once in quick succession. Her rage was like that of a demon possessed, as she practically clawed away at Ghostface's facemask, trying to rip it off.

"DON'T YOU DARE TRY TO KILL MY SISTER YOU BASTARD!" she yelled vengefully, before delivering a punch directly at one of Ghostface's eyeholes, the blow rippled through Ghostface's head, Tara's anger surged to murderous levels, all she wanted to do was make this monster suffer repeatedly. . .and endlessly.

"YOU WANT TO FUCKING HONOUR AMBER AND RICHIE, THEN YOU CAN JOIN THEM BOTH IN HELL!"

Sam meanwhile staggered forward, weakly pushing herself up off the aisle, her coordination was poor, she felt dizzy with the blood loss, as her world was steadily spinning all around her.

The floor felt uneven, no doubt slippery with blood, but Sam couldn't focus on anything right now, save for the fight unfolding in front of her glazed eyes.

Ghostface's knife was still jutting out of her collarbone.

It would hurt, but she knew what she needed to do. . .this could only end one way.

Ghostface meanwhile had regained the upper hand and threw Tara into a nearby side aisle before slamming right into her. They grabbed her right hand, stretched out her arm and with one fell strike of their gloved fist smacked hard against Tara's right elbow with immense force.

CRACK!

An audible sharp snap sounded, immediately followed by Tara's agonised screams.

"YOU FUCKING BITCH!" Ghostface screamed, the intensity of their voice strained their voice modulator that it stuttered with crackling static.

They instantly started laying punch after punch into Tara, striking her in areas where she had previously been wounded and in particular her face, forcing Tara to yell out even more.

Blow after sickening blow, heavy aggressive thuds with multiple coloured bruises of red, purple and black starting to form across Tara's body. In a matter of seconds her lip was split and bleeding with her eyes having been beaten black and blue.

"I'LL BREAK YOU BEFORE I END YOU!" Ghostface roared viciously, not letting up their assault for a single second, amidst Tara's screams.

Gripping the knife's handle tightly with steady hands. Sam, through gritted teeth, pushed on by an unshakable resolve to kill Ghostface, and an indomitable will to survive, slowly pulled the knife out of her neck.

Meanwhile, Ghostface was too lost in their bloodlust rage to notice Sam's actions; as they wrapped their blood stained gloved hands around Tara's throat and immediately starting strangling her.

"Amber wanted to be merciful to you Tara, to kill you with a few swift stabs, but you will get no such mercy from me!" Ghostface sneered angrily, lifting Tara up off the floor by the neck, with her legs dangling in the air. Ghostface's grip was so strong that it was cutting into Tara's airways, making her lungs burn when air starvation kicked in. Tara could only frantically pull at Ghostface's hands, trying to pry off them off her neck with savage desperation. She desperately kicked hard at Ghostface' legs and knees, but to no avail as she noticed her own declining strength, only serving to increase her fear and Ghostface's enjoyment of watching her squirm.

For Sam, pulling the blade out created pain that was simply indescribable, it flooded her mind, the term 'white hot' barely came close, her brain threatened to blackout. Yet Sam managed to completely dislodge the blade. She immediately felt blood start to flow and when putting her hand to her lower neck she felt the warm liquid and a heavy metallic smell filled the air.

"I'll send you to your demons Tara, you've been sitting on them for so long," Ghostface remarked, as Tara's face turned purple due to an lack of air which caused her lungs to burn with her kicks and pulls growing ever weaker.

"After all, you never went to therapy, despite Sam's instance."

The mention of such private information sent off a powder keg of questions inside Tara's oxygen deprived mind.

"How?" she could barely mouth, as darkness encroached from the periphery of her vision and sounds began to sound distant.

How could they know about that?

Who was behind the mask. . .

Holding the blood stained knife in her hands, Sam solely directed her gaze at the ongoing merciless beating that Tara was receiving from Ghostface. She only felt red hot rage, surging throughout her from head to toe; making her hands violently shake as she gritted her teeth in murderous anger.

The familiar and all consuming red mist crept along all five of her senses, somewhat blocking out the pain and keeping the dizziness at bay. . .for now.

It was followed by the male and charming voice of a literal ghost, drifting into her head, and echoing throughout her numbed mind.

It was a voice though that Sam immediately recognised, having heard it long before now.

"Let's get out there Sam and slit some throats."

Billy Loomis, her real father, determinedly urging Sam towards violence as always; yet Sam had already made her choice, gripping the blood stained knife tightly as it shook in her grip.

"Kill the fucker and watch them beg you for mercy, like a good girl!"

"Make me proud of you being a Loomis, just like you did with Richie, when you 'added' a new ending to his movie."

"Be who you always are Sam, what has always existed in your heart, in your blood!"

Yet Sam had other ideas.

"No, no mercy 'dad', but there is something I want more than anything else right now. . ."

Satisfaction. . .

Using her rage fuelled strength, Sam practically leapt at Ghostface, screaming as she rapidly closed the distance.

"AAAAARRRRRHHHHH!"

Ghostface could only turn their head in Sam's direction, once they saw the knife, they immediately realised the full gravity of their error.

"DIEEEEE!" Sam yelled, swiftly latching onto Ghostface and knocking them off Tara, releasing the younger woman from their grip. Sam quickly forced Ghostface to the floor, straddled them on the chest, raised the knife and swiftly stabbed downwards.

Only for Ghostface to reach up and grab hold of Sam's blood stained hands, pushing back against her downward swung.

Sam's eyes were ablaze with an untamed anger and a violate thirst for vengeance at any price.

This twisted fucker was going to pay, servely!

They would never get another chance to harm her or Tara!

Not like in Woodsboro last year!

Sam summoned whatever strength was left within her as she forcibly pressed downwards. Ghostface though, wasn't going quietly, pushing back with equal determination.

"Like. . .you. . .said. . .earlier. . .just. . .let. . .it. . .happen!" Sam hissed vengefully, as she pushed down hard with all her might.

Ghostface merely hissed back in defiance, as they steadily pushed back against Sam's efforts. Between the two, she was the weakest, blood loss was making her feel dizzy, fighting with herself to maintain focus. Only her immense rage was driving her forward and keeping the exhaustion at bay, but for how long would that last, Sam could only hope that it would be enough.

It had to be. . .


Tara meanwhile had fallen to the floor, her back hitting the edge of the sidle aisle hard, before she crumpled to the floor, groaning heavily in pain as she did. She quickly exhaled in, forcing much needed air back through her inflamed airways and into her aching lungs.

Only. . .there was an immediate problem.

Tara instantly felt her airways tighten, restricting the airflow as her asthma suddenly flared up. Her eyes widen as the relation what was happening hit her like a freight train.

She gasped in short breaths, trying to force more air back into her oxygen deprived lungs. She noticed that the darkness that had earlier circled the edge of her vision remained, slowly creeping inwards as her body threatened to shut down on her and black out.

"Inhaler, I need it!" her mind begged, as Tara shoved her hands, or rather her left hand deep into her trouser pockets. She always carried an inhaler, fully loaded whenever she went out and kept the spare at her apartment under lock and key in a hidden location that only she, Sam, Mindy and Chad knew about.

When her front pockets revealed nothing, Tara quickly checked her back ones and then her zipped up jumper pockets.

Her inhaler wasn't on her.

Panic-stricken, Tara glanced around, her eyes searching all avenues, seeing everything other than what she truly wanted.

"No, no, no, no, where the fuck is it!" Tara mentally screamed, gasping as her airways remained constricted, only able to inhale in short quick breaths.

The darkness crept further from the edge of her vision, not helped by it being blurred.

She was well and truly screwed.

"It couldn't have fallen out of my pocket when I was running earlier, could it, fuck!"

She couldn't fully remember as she had been too busy running for her life from Ghostface and that only made her panic worse.

All the while Tara could hear the chaotic sounds of Sam wrestling with Ghostface behind her and without looking Tara could tell that Sam was becoming exhausted by the sheer physical strain of it all. Time was limited, if Sam died, then Tara would let Ghostface kill her, she wouldn't be able to live with the survivor's guilt if she did somehow make it out of the store alive.

The aftermath of Woodsboro one year ago was hell. . .Tara couldn't go through it all over again, not without Sam.

Chad and Mindy had provided close support, but Sam, she was the only one who could truly comfort Tara and more than understand what she was going through. . .the stabbings, Amber's betrayal.

As much as Tara disliked how overprotective Sam was and how intrusive she acted, it genuinely came from a good place, for Sam always wore her heart on her sleeve.

Truth to be told Tara needed Sam, her lifeline to sanity. . .her only family, protector, caregiver and provider. . .her light in a world of trauma and shadow.

Tara frantically casted her gaze further afield, looking at the chaos stricken layout of the store, but with her blurred vision it was impossible to make much out. She was dead, slowly suffocating as she struggled to get enough air into her straggled lungs and the light headedness was steadily creeping over her fear driven mind.

"No, no, no, fuck, fuck, no!" she pleaded, looking everywhere at once, praying for a miracle, as Sam's screams of frustration echoed in the background. She was fighting desperately to maintain the pressure on Ghostface and keep a firm hold of the knife.

Sam was trying, but her strength was waning.

"TARA!" Sam cried, as she focused all her strength downward, ignoring the pain that screamed from her already worn out muscles.

"RUN, GET OUT OF HERE, GET TO THE POLICE!"

Tara fervently shook her head; she was not going to leave Sam alone to possibly die.

"I AM NOT LEAVING YOU SAM!"

Tara cast her eyes everywhere, trying to spot the orange coloured inhaler.

"Why didn't I fucking pack my spare!" she cursed herself in open frustration as her blurred vision made everything looked glassy or unfocused, her depth perception was nearly gone.

Orange, grab anything that is coloured orange!

Tara nearly choked as she forced herself to swallow more air, her inhale and exhale sounding like strained rasps. She desperately reached out with her left hand and grabbed a hold of anything which looked orangish.

Tara stuck her hand into various food piles, rapidly moving from one to the next. Crushed oranges, spilled baked bean tins, mangled carrots, splattered butternut squash, anything and everything that she saw which resembled an orangish colour.

She crawled forward, which was an immense challenge with her broken right arm. Her crawl was lopsided as she pulled herself through blood stains intermixed with puddles of spilled food, searching through a morass of colours. Every time she dragged her right arm forward immense white hot pain flared up from her fingers to her shoulder, causing to her yell out and further cripple her ability to move.

The continuous lack of results only further sent Tara's panic and frustration spiralling.

"Fuck!" she screamed, venting her anger as well as her own crippling fear, as she had seriously fucked up. To the point where she had practically killed herself and Sam.

"I'm such a burden at times. . ."

The words barely escaped her mouth, but it is what she truly felt, at certain times she could be a deadweight that Sam had to bear. Tara admitted to herself that it was her asthma that resulted in them needing to get her spare inhaler at Amber's house, forcing her and Sam to divert from their escape plan to go get it and enter a death trap.

"I'm sorry," Tara whispered tearfully, her words were submerged by the sounds of Sam viciously struggling with Ghostface, but she felt herself go numb, stopping in mid crawl.

The only thing she could feel was the lingering sense of self disgust at her own impairment. . .weakness, dragging Sam down with her.

"TARA!" Sam roared; her fear was strongly evident. She managed to deflect Ghostface's repeated attempts to rip the knife out of her grasp by locking their gloved fingers underneath hers, trapping them in a vice.

"TARA PLEASE, JUST RUN!"

Sam's pleas jolted Tara out of her self-loathing induced trance, replaced by a surge in unbridled determination.

She had to keep looking. . .for Sam's sake!

She was going to get her inhaler or die trying, she had survived Amber without it, she could survive this!

Ghostface manage to free their left hand and punched Sam hard in her left eye, but she didn't budge, firmly straddling them and keeping her quarry pinned to the floor with her weight.

She managed to grab hold of Ghostface's hand with her right before they could strike again, holding it intensely by the wrist and bending it backwards, an act which made Ghostface hissed in pain. . .good.

Tara had only crawled a couple of inches forward, but her search was continuing to prove fruitless. She could only find what she didn't want, but she kept pushing herself forward. She could feel her disappointment, frustration and fear all pilling up on one another like a tidal wave that threatened to drown her whole.

Her eyes were further blurred by tears, colours mixing into together like a raging colourful sprawl and yet she refused to stop.

Crying would do her no good, she even struggled to sob, feeling the instinctive need to do so, but her throat was too raw to make the motion.

As long as Sam could hold Ghostface at bay, then she had time to get her shit together.

CLUNK!

Her right arm hit something hard when she dragged it along the floor. The act sent another wave of pain reaching up her arm to her shoulder. Turning her gaze downward, through her blurred vision Tara saw an orangish plastic like shape with a cylinder attachment sticking out it.

Wait, could that be. . .no.

Immediately reached out, her fingers clenched around the object and brought it closer to her eyes, enough for her vision to make out its unique design.

Her inhaler!

Tara's heart jumped for joy, only to be then dragged back down with another inflamed ache, as her inflamed lungs continued to burn.

Forcing the inhaler into her mouth and pushing down hard on the canister button, a flood of fresh air stormed through Tara's vice gripped airways. Tara felt a wave of relief overload her senses as the inflammation from her lungs began to die down.

She took another puff for good measure, forcing her airways to unconstrict themselves and allow the irritation to steadily fade away. The frustrated and weary sounds of Sam's struggle with Ghostface however propelled Tara straight back into the present.

As the sensation of pleasant relief vacated her mind, it was rapidly replaced by the white hot pain pulsing out from her broken right elbow. Yet, Tara slowly dragged herself around, stuffing her inhaler deep into her trouser pocket. She could feel herself aching all over and any extended form of movement only resulted in continuous waves of agony.

With the pain came the heavy breathing as adrenaline returned to her muscles along with fear spiking in her mind as she gazed over at Sam.

The elder Carpenter looked exhausted and bloodied, only her twin determination to outlast Ghostface and keep Tara safe was powering her through the whole ordeal. Sam's willpower was on a level beyond that of anyone else who Tara knew or had known. Such pervasion had carried Sam through the longest days and the darkest nights of her life. Despite being in her mid-twenties, Sam's eyes carried the weight of three lifetimes, burden by feelings of guilt, regret, self-loathing and agony, all embedded so deeply that Tara had only recently started to understand how entombed Sam was by it all.

Before Tara, Sam fought desperately, straining herself to the limit as she tried to force the knife down into Ghostface's neck. Some might say she appeared savage with the fiery aggression that she fought with, but Tara would call it protective.

If anyone else was in Sam's position, they would do the same.

Ignoring the pain as her neck muscles ached in response to her movement; Tara shrugged off the sense of exhaustion that had started to creep up her spine again.

It wasn't influencing her yet; not when her fear and anger was keeping her body and mind on full red alert on a near continuous loop.

"SAM!" Tara muttered with alarm, watching as Ghostface once more freed their left hand and gripped Sam's left hand which was holding the knife. Sam had to redirect her right hand to the blade's handle to counter the move. It created a tug of war, but Ghostface still had strength left, steadily prying the knife's handle out of Sam's grip. Bit by bit they turned the sharp blade away from them and up towards Sam's chest, angling for her ribs.

"Why won't. . . you just die!" Sam growled furiously, fighting back as Ghostface solidified their hold on the knife.

Ghostface didn't answer, instead fuelling more their strength into the fight and tipping the blade even more towards Sam. She could feel her strength continuing to fade in the face of the rising tide of weariness that flooded over her muscles. The blood loss definitely wasn't helping matters, her vision was continuing to become hazy, and she felt reoccurring moments of light headedness.

Sam could feel the rage and sadistic enjoyment emitting from behind the facemask, easily imaging the wearer's smile to be of corrupted joy. Ghostface knew that they were winning and could taste victory.

Ghostface loosen Sam's grip some more, slipping their gloved fingers into where hers had just been around the knife's handle.

"Your time is up. . .Samantha," Ghostface declared smugly, just as they ripped the knife free, fully turning the blade's point up towards Sam. Her face paled as her strength waned even more, giving away.

"NO!"

Suddenly, another hand gripped hold the knife's handle, entrapping Ghostface's fingers behind theirs and swiftly redirecting the blade downwards again.

Sam quickly glanced right to see Tara kneeling alongside her, the younger Carpenter's eyes were ablaze with sheer determination as she gritted her teeth at the physical strain. Ghostface fought back against Tara's downwards swung, holding her at bay, but Sam knew what needed to be done.

Wrapping her blood covered hands around Tara's, which were equally bloody; Sam added her strength, as the two sisters now pushed down together.

Against their combined strength, Ghostface struggled to resist. The blade dropped ever downward. Their panic was evident as they thrashed about on the floor, hissing in both fear and anger as their demise became immediately apparent. In contrast to Ghostface's naked terror, Sam and Tara appeared unrelenting, driven, and merciless as together they forced the knife down. All earlier expressions or feelings of panic, dread, fear, and exhaustion were absent, supressed as the sensation of victory crept to the forefront of their respective minds. The collapse of Ghostface's strength resulted in the knife plunging. . .right into an area where Sam had originally deemed to not protected, the neck.

The blade sunk in deep, cutting through the black fabric just below the facemask and penetrating straight through the flesh underneath. The act instantly drew forth blood that stained their black clothing and Ghostface screamed a gargled agonised howl, only marred by the deepness of their voice modulator.

Yet the feeling of sweet satisfaction that Ghostface's screams brought only incensed Sam and Tara. Repeatedly they both stabbed Ghostface in the chest at multiple points, ripping through their black robes and revealing a bullet proof vest.

"So, that's what I felt earlier when I shoved them in the chest," Sam mentally noted at the far back of her mind. Yet her rage was all consuming, she saw red. . . seductive, cleansing red.

Against a sharp knife Ghostface's bullet proof vest was useless, cutting through effortlessly and penetrating the skin underneath.

Each fresh stab brought a new round of tortured screams from Ghostface and neither sister let up in their assault, the blood frenzy was so intoxicating that soon the sisters were viciously hacking away at Ghostface's body, craving it up like it was just a hunk of hanged meat.

Just a slab of meat. . .not a person.

"HOW DOES IT FEEL FUCKER!" Tara shouted maliciously, as she thrusted the knife into Ghostface's abdomen, severed their intestines and releasing a stench that was only held back by the heavy metallic aroma of blood. Tara's anger, the sensation of holding the knife, it tapped into a primal part of herself, an imprisoned side that breathed in the victorious feeling of such power and satisfaction like oxygen feeding a ravenous fire.

How she revelled in the feeling. . .it felt. . .so right.

"IT HAS BEEN AN HONOUR!" Sam yelled viciously when she craved into Ghostface's chest, drawing forth blood from the streams that she cut across their body. The acts craving, making the wounds look like canals down which blood ran.

The familiar sensation of sadistic joy which coursed through Sam's veins; of sending another monster gift wrapped to hell and saving countless people from Ghostface's savage tyranny. . .it felt justified.

Ghostface could only yell out in pain amidst the sound of them choking on their own blood.

That sound. . .

A sudden realisation dawned on Sam, like a heavy blanket falling on the bloodlust fire that burned within her soul and crushing it along with a wave of immense smoke.

Ghostface was dying and yet she had so many questions that needed urgent answers.

"TARA STOP!" Sam yelled firmly, surprised by the loudness of her own voice, a vocal command to Tara, as well as to herself to full on cease. Her words caught Tara's attention, making her stop before she could plunge the knife in again. The darkness that lay in Tara's eyes, the cold cruelty that lurked there within her brown pupils.

A look which Sam recognised instantly as her own.

A part of herself was pleased to see it there in Tara. A corrupted sense of joy, no, of acceptance rapidly rose from the deep recess of her mind, reaching out with an eager hand; like it had found a kindred spirit and longed to make a personal connection.

Yet, the coldness in Tara's eyes disappeared, quickly retreating and Sam forced down her own feeling, pushing it back into the depths of her mind, trying to lock it away. . .again.

Tara withdrew the knife, holding it firmly in her blood covered hands, exhaling deeply as she regained control herself.

"Sorry, go on ahead Sam," she muttered shakily, as though she was unsure of what she had just experienced.

"Don't worry Tara, it gets easier each time to register the feeling," a dark thought filtered through Sam's mind. She instantly shut it down, crushing it, but she had felt its words, her own instinctive agreement with what Tara had been feeling.

The deep gurgling and choking sounds coming from Ghostface snapped Sam's attention back to them; realising that she was in a prime position to dictate, but that her time was limited. Sam quickly reached forward, her hands gripping Ghostface's facemask.

Despite its tough seal, Sam was able to wiggle her fingers underneath its plastic moulded frame and steadily peel it away. The act created a suction noise as hot sweat evaporated. At the same time, Sam reached down with one hand and pressed the small red circular array on the lower left side of Ghostface's neck, turning off their voice modulator.

No more disguises, only the truth would remain, as Sam fully lifted the face mask off Ghostface, revealing its wearer.

Ethan Landry. . .with his brown hazel eyes and brown curly mop of hair, his baby boy face marred by blood stains and sweat; choking on his own blood as he gazed at both Sam and Tara.

Swiftly, Sam reached down again and gripped Ethan by the neck, deliberating putting pressure on his stab wounds and making him yell out. Sam's gaze was murderous to say the least, the cold fire from before rapidly returned and burned fiercely in her eyes. She leaned in close and coldly whispered the biggest question on her mind.

"Why, for what fucking reason Ethan?"

No answer came, Ethan just smiled back at Sam, an unjustified look of confidence lay in his eyes, as though he had won, despite the dire circumstances.

Sam scowled even more and dug her fingers deeper into Ethan's neck wounds, pushing them inside. The act caused Ethan to scream out in pain, but still he refused to answer.

Sam increased the pressure, even shifting herself forward to directly sit on the various stab wounds that marked Ethan's chest. The young man gritted his blood stained teeth, but he was unable to repress any satisfying whimpers of pain.

Sam loomed directly over Ethan, casting him in her shadow, like an ominous storm cloud hiding the sun.

She filled his entire vision and despite her immense anger; her eyes held another emotion. There were elements that one could recognise, coldness, cruelty, scorn, stubbornness and flare for blood. Yet there was something else even amongst them, it was deep, detached and primitive.

Something that could only possibly be described as being dark as the cold vacuum of space.

Whatever it truly was, it was a mindset which Sam had never fully be able to settle, let alone keep under lock and key.

"You should really tell me Ethan, because, as the daughter of a serial killer I know exactly how to make the last few minutes of your virgin ridden life a living nightmare, to inflict pain so deep that not even death could erase its mark!"

"You would have looked me up Ethan, have seen my alleged work on Richie!"

Ethan only nodded slightly, his eyes although imbued with pain, were equally vibrant with fear.

"Then you know that I can more than honour my word!" Sam hissed, tightening her grip on his damaged throat, yet pushing her fingers into his stab wounds and making Ethan cry out in agony.

"Talk. . .NOW!"


Were you expecting someone behind the mask? ;-)

Again, this was a much bigger chapter, but the cut off creates a nice cliff hanger.

Next chapter should be out this coming weekend.

For those who are wondering about FNAF's involvement in this story, don't worry, it is coming, but this will be a lengthy story and a slow burner, as there are many factors and elements to accommodate and I focus on quality rather than quantity.

Thank you for reading and do please review, I appreciate your thoughts.