Hey everyone, here is the next chapter!
This was one a lot of fun to write, but good thing I split the original one on half because it would have been overload.
Thank you Tech Star 2-0 for both following and favouriting this story.
Many thanks to EliteSang for their review, it is great to hear from you. You've hit the nail on the head, this version of Ghostface is an inner manifestation of Sam's inherit darkness and is what Billy would want to see Sam become. Your theory on there being otherworldly forces involved like William Afton, mmmm, an interesting idea, but we're not there yet.
Rest assured, we will return to the storyline of Scream VI, but things will have now changed immensely because of Ethan's death.
Thanks also to Horde19 for their review, do enjoy this next chapter, it is longer than the last one!
Here's the surprise, there is a song in this chapter, the first one!
It is 'Do What You Want" by Evanescence and it very much speaks to Sam's mental state. Most if not all of Evanescence's songs can relate to Sam and Tara in various ways.
I have made sure that people have enough time to read the stage directions whilst the song is playing, despite it being fast paced at times. The idea being you can vividly imagine the scenes as the song flows.
Apologies for any grammar mistakes that I have missed.
Chapter Five
A Shadow Among Memories
"This reality!"
"My mentality!"
"Everything changes so rapidly!"
"And I'm ready for the never ending fire!"
"Dancing with my deepest dark desires!"
"Miracle, how empirical!"
"Don't know anything quite hysterical!"
"Everything around me transpires!"
"As I fulfil my darkest desire!"
Glitchtrap from Darkest Desires by DHeusta
Sam could do nothing but watched like a ghost as her past self (in her current adult body) slowly walk pass both her and Ghostface without a sideways glance.
They were shadows in here, non-existent.
Past Sam (for lack of a better term) cautiously made her way over to Tara.
The younger Carpenter lay propped up in her hospital bed, attached to an array of wires, with her left leg resting on a pillow. Her left arm down to her hand was bandaged and kept in a cast, following Amber's vicious stab attack that had sparked off what happened last year.
"Do you remember when dad left?" Sam's past self asked Tara with folded arms. She sounded curious, but there was the faint hint of anxiety in words as her gaze was directed to the floor, unable to make eye contact with her sister.
Current Sam trembled; she knew exactly where this conversation was going.
She instinctively wanted to run, to quickly get away from this place, memory or not Sam had absolutely no desire to revisit Woodsboro in any fashion.
Sam turned to go, only for a strong hand to grab her by the collar and forcibly pull her back, redirecting her gaze forward.
"No!" Ghostface hissed adamantly, bringing their free hand around Sam's neck, and holding her in something approaching a chokehold.
"You will not leave before it is over!"
She couldn't break free of Ghostface's hold without immense effort this time, and she didn't dare try when Ghostface's knife was now barely inches away from her right side.
A constant warning to not misbehave.
"Watch and listen Samantha," Ghostface ordered, again their voice carried a stern and ominous warning, it always did.
In response to past Sam's question, Tara's warm but weary brown eyes flicked upwards as she thought for a moment, before returning her gaze back to past Sam.
"In parts. . .I was eight," Tara answered unsure of what exactly to say.
"I don't know what that has to do with anything?"
"It has to do with everything," adult Sam replied, her voice was firm, but the anxiety was still persistent. Steadily she walked around to the foot of Tara's bed, with the younger Carpenter shadowing her movements. Tara's weariness was disappearing as her gaze steadily shifted from curiousness to wariness, her eyes widen before focusing on her elder sister.
"Do you remember how. . .Mum use to keep those old boxes up in the attic?" Sam asked, she sounded reflective, but there was an deep seated anxiety in her voice, no. . .it was dread.
Tara did reply, but this time her eyes narrowed, her body language morphed into one of caution, listening to adult Sam recall the seeds of their separation with faint visible nervousness.
"While I was up there once, when I was thirteen looking for Christmas presents, and I found these old diaries that mom kept from high school."
"Sam what is th-" Tara began to ask, but adult Sam cut her off, speaking sincerely, but firm.
"Please Tara, I have to do this."
Current Sam could see the dread building up in Tara's eyes, the uncertain fear of where this conversation was going.
In the present day, Sam and Tara had since moved past this event, for the most part. Sam knew that Tara, to a small degree still held it against her for having just up and left without any explanation. It always hurt to revisit this moment in any detail and to see it all fully fleshed out, made Sam's heart ache like it was being stabbed.
Tears began to build in her eyes, watching as with each passing second Tara's dread became more and more visible.
Out of the corner of Sam's vision Ghostface shifted their gaze towards her, studying Sam's reaction and no doubt taking immense pleasure from it. Yet, strangely enough they said nothing and allowed the scene to continue without interruption, watching as both versions of Sam steadily crumbled from within.
"So, I found these old diaries and I knew it was wrong, but I read some of them anyway," Past Sam began again, this time though her voice was hopeful, she even dared to smile.
"Because mom got pregnant with me in highschool, so I thought it might be cool to find out how she and dad got together, how romantic it must have been."
Then her smile steadily faded, she looked away, thinking of what to say next and when she spoke again her concern from earlier had returned.
"So, I read some pages, only it wasn't romantic. . ."
Another tension filled pause.
"Mom was dating dad, but. . .she was in love with this other guy, and he got her pregnant."
The concern in Past Sam's voice become more evident with each shallow breath.
"She told dad the baby was his and that's why he proposed to her in their senior year."
"Sam, what are you talking about-" Tara asked again, only now her own dread was the sole emotion in her voice; coupled with fear. She could probably guess as this point where the conversation was going, but understandably she didn't want to hear it.
Past Sam cut her off again, continuing her tale, but her inner panic was now manifesting itself, rising to the fore.
"So, I am sitting there in this attic, I'm thirteen and I just found out that my dad isn't my real dad."
Tara's expression was a blend of confusion, dread, and shock. Unsure of what make of this new revelation, but clearly not enjoying what she did understand and perplexed as it how it related to what was already going on. Her own shallow breathing was evidence of her inner stress worming its way up to the surface.
Past Sam continued speaking, but her panic and sorrow were the overriding emotions that her tone held. Tears were building in her eyes as well.
"So, I go find mom in her bedroom, next thing I'm screaming at her and shoving this diary in her face, and I didn't even realise. . .that dad was standing right behind me."
For Tara it finally seemed to dawn on her the exact nature of this confession, her eyes slowly widening in a horrified realisation that gripped her soul in a vice.
"He didn't know."
"He found out right then from me."
Tara looked down, the weight of the moment hitting her hard, like a freight train. Tears now gradually welled up in her eyes, no doubt seeing flashbacks from that moment in her life.
She remembered the screams, the raised voices, the anger, and despair that filled the house, but she didn't know why.
"He left that night," past Sam stated, she sounded sorrowful, filled with regret for the part she had unintentionally played.
"I am the reason he had left."
Tara shook her head, she understood, yet she still didn't want to accept.
"No, no Sam no-"
Yet past Sam cut her off again, tears beginning to fall, the restraint her voice previous possessed now visibly wavering.
"Mom never forgave me, and she made me promise never to tell you because you were so young."
"You remember don't you, that lie?" Ghostface asked, turning to face actual Sam.
"Telling Tara that dad had gotten a new job that required him to work away from home for a very long time, over and over again."
"I remember," Sam answered hesitantly, in her mind's eye she could see the confusion on eight year old Tara's face as she attentively listened to a tearful Sam about why dad had suddenly left.
"And as Tara grew older you changed the lie to maintain the illusion, dad is required to work in a new country, he is on a new three year contract constantly working abroad."
Sam felt tears run from her eyes and down her checks.
"I did tell her that eventually Dad had left Mum when she turned eleven," she whispered, barely able to keep herself from openly sobbing.
"Yet you didn't tell Tara the real reason, did you?" Ghostface inquired, their voice full of malicious judgement.
"Yes, I lied to Tara again, mom and I worked out a believable lie, but it didn't make it any easier to convince Tara," Sam replied, visibly swallowing as she spoke, her tongue becoming tied by her onrushing emotions.
"And what did you tell her?" Ghostface questioned, deeply immersed in the emotional torment that poured out from both verisons of Sam like a bleeding wound.
"That dad. . .had stopped loving us. . .and just left," Sam answered sorrowfully, struggling to swallow between her inhales.
"It was a terrible lie. . .but mom wanted to push out the line. . .that it was dad who had cheated. . .and I threatened her. . .with telling Tara the truth. . .if she forced me to toe that disgusting line."
Something approaching a deep chuckle emitted from Ghostface.
"You found your backbone Samantha."
"Shut up!" Sam hissed, daring herself to push back, despite the ever present danger of Ghostface's knife.
Tears continued to run down her face amidst her anger.
"Just shut the fuck up!"
"Your defiance is noted Samantha, but let's keep watching anyway," Ghostface replied with casual enjoyment that was marred by the deep and ominous tone generated by their voice modifier.
By now past Sam had moved round to kneel beside Tara's bed; crying her eyes out as she recalled hitting every single drug that she could find to remove the pain, to repress the guilt and make herself utterly numb.
Sam herself, listening to her past self's words, instinctively look down at her arms, despite them being covered.
In her current twelve old year body the marks wouldn't exist, but in a few years, they would do. Countless holes targeting her veins that crisscrossed her skin in near decorative patterns.
The abject sobbing from her adult self regained her attention.
"I just couldn't be around you Tara!"
Tara only looked at Sam with growing horror, with each new revelation acting as a jigsaw puzzle that filled a gap in her memory, piecing together the wretched tale of events.
"Not only because I destroyed our family that night, but because those dairies told me who my real father was."
Tara said nothing, waiting with dreaded anticipation for what Sam would say next.
Taking a moment to try and regain her composure, adult Sam uttered a name that mentally knocked Tara backwards beyond anything she had experienced so far.
"It was Billy Loomis. . ."
There was a noticeable shift in Tara's brown eyes, a slight turn of the head, violate emotions colliding and batting against eachother until only one emerged dominant above the rest.
Anger. . .born of betrayal and shock, as those same brown eyes now darken and narrowed.
Memories were realigning, now that sufficient gaps had been filled in, a near full timeline with heart breaking answers provided.
Past Sam reached out with one hand, leaning in close amidst her tears and visible regret.
"Somebody knows this, and I think that's why you got hurt and I am so fucking sorry that I never told you and that I ran away!"
Current Sam could feel the anger radiating off Tara, clearly born from the pain of betrayal. Her brown eyes seemed almost alight, but amidst the anger and the emotional agony that stabbed at the younger Carpenter's heart, there lay something else.
Past Sam couldn't see it being too lost in her own emotional upset, but current Sam could, she knew how to read Tara.
A question, one that Tara wanted to ask but her anger kept it well at bay.
"Why didn't you try to tell me this right at the beginning, when you first found out?"
"I'm so sorry I-"
"Get out!"
The sharp words, the growing rage in Tara's voice, it pained current Sam to hear it as it did her past self, who slightly backed off in response.
Current Sam felt tears continually rolling down her checks. She wanted to brush them away, but she still didn't dare move, unless it provoked Ghostface somehow.
Ghostface themselves remained watching the unfolding scene in complete silence, as Tara started to unload her frustrations, one by one.
"You're gone for five years, five whole years and then I get stabbed and you come back and you want to drop all of this shit on me!" she yelled, her rage and pain morphing into one emotion until it was impossible to separate them.
"No, I swear I was protecting you!" adult Sam begged, no pleading, but Tara wasn't buying it, her expression turning dismissive as her eyes widen again.
"Protecting me from what. . .the truth!?"
That took the wind out of past Sam's case, she scrambled to find an alternative explanation.
"No, no I. . ."
Tara's eyes darken some more, narrowing again, her fingers gripped the bedsheet tightly, her anger spilling out.
"Sam. . .I need you to get the fuck out," she said in as low a voice as possible, her rage barely contained.
There was only anger now, every other emotion was gone. Tara was trying to warn Sam before she completely lost it.
Yet past Sam persisted, as current Sam knew she would.
"I am so sorry!"
Sam. . ."
"Please-"
"GET THE FUCK OUT!" Tara screamed, her eyes bulged and the veins in her head visibly pulsed, her rage beyond evident.
Past Sam finally got the message, Tara wanted to be alone, staying or speaking would only make things worse.
Past Sam backed off, visibly deeply hurt by Tara's outright rejection, a few pained breaths, but she moved without saying anything.
Tara watched her go with pained eyes; her anger slowly losing its hold on her emotions, but it clearly lingered.
As past Sam left, closing the door shut behind her, Tara exhaled, venting her stress and her shoulders dropped, the tight muscles loosening. Her eyes revealed a whirlwind of emotions, shock, confusion, anger again, but there was also dread, fear and a deep seated pain rising up from past memories as her broken childhood fused with her terrible present situation.
Innumerable thoughts were probably passing through her head, eventually they would somewhat settle, but as current Sam knew that would take a lot of time.
Tara was still going through it now. . .
"You almost lost her, and you can lose her again," Ghostface remarked coldly at last, turning to face current Sam.
"There are no more dark family secrets," Sam whispered callously, trying to match Ghostface's tone despite her visible display of distraught. She refused to look at them, keeping her tear streaked eyes on the upset figure of past Tara.
"This scene cannot happen again as it did."
"Can it not?" Ghostface enquired with a mocking tone of mischief, leaning in.
"No and you won't be able to drive another wedge between us like you did last year, Amber, or Richie, whichever fucked up shithead you are!" Sam retorted fiercely.
"Who is say that I am one of those two, there have been so many incarnations of me."
"I don't know any of the others, it wouldn't make sense for you to be them, Ghostface is always someone known to the victim, otherwise the impact of your betrayal is wasted," Sam bitterly stated, angrily wiping her tears away.
Her eyes darted down to the knife that Ghostface continually kept close to her right side, aimed to plunge into her skin if she tried to escape their grasp again.
"Isn't that in your accursed bullshit rule book!?" Sam asked with visible contempt.
"Rules change Samantha, but by all means guess away," Ghostface mused, turning their head back to the hospital bed where a visibly distressed Tara lay. Her eyes were blurred by rageful tears as Sam's confession replayed repeatedly in her head.
"Yet, despite what you say Samantha, this moment still hurts you, you have buried the pain deep, along with the fear that it can reoccur-"
"Tara would never leave me, and I will never abandon her again, so whatever mind game you are trying to pull, just fucking drop it!" Sam cursed.
"Why can't you admit how you truly feel?" Ghostface muttered, almost sounding reflective, but again the ominous overtone from their voice modifier dominated, making them sound dismissive and bitterly disappointed.
"History doesn't necessarily need to repeat itself exactly to create a nightmarish outcome, something else similar but different can lead to it, but still. . .
Suddenly Ghostface turned about and walked forward, dragging an unwilling Sam with them, their black cloak swirled as they moved.
"Either way, let's move on."
Yet Sam fought back, now pulling, and loosening Ghostface's hold enough for her to slip through their grip before they could make quick use of their knife.
"NO, YOU DON'T CONTROL ME!" Sam yelled, breaking into a spirit for the hospital room door and beyond hopefully an exit.
"I REFUSE TO LET YOU CONTROL MY LIFE!"
Just then a shadow appeared above her, a rough hand grasping her shoulder, a sharp kick to the back of one of her knees sent Sam spiralling to the floor with a heavy thud.
Before Sam could register that she had fallen, a heavy force landed on top of her, crushing her small fragile body. Instantly, she felt the cold sting of metal against her throat, pressing in deep, but not enough to draw blood.
"Do that again Samantha and I will happily send you to your demons!" Ghostface hissed mercilessly, as Sam fought to breathe, underneath their weightier frame.
"After I have viciously torn you apart limb from limb first!"
They forcibly lifted Sam's head up with their free hand, so she could breathe properly, but kept their knife pressed deep against Sam's skin.
"Granted, I am not Freddy fucking Krueger in a nightmare, but I am very curious to find out if you can literally die in here, it might happen," Ghostface remarked bitterly.
The harshness of their tone lessened, although their ominous overtone could have easily fooled Sam.
"Play along and I will let you live, you need to face this, I want you to fully realise."
"Fucking realise what?!" Sam hissed through gritted teeth; her heart was threatening to burst out of her chest it was beating so fast whilst her fear flooded her senses.
Ghostface loomed over her, so they could look her directly in the eye.
"Just how close to freedom you really are, when society is so unaccepting of you," they answered firmly.
Ghostface rose off the floor, forcefully gripped Sam by her hair, making the girl yell out in pain as she was dragged away. Sam instinctively cast a desperate look at Tara for help, but the younger Carpenter was just a memory, locked on replay, current Sam was just invisible to her.
Continuing her screams, Sam thrashed and kicked at nothing but empty air, as Ghostface marched unhindered out of this memory and into whatever lay next.
When the next wretched destination from Sam's memories fully revealed itself, she wished to be back in the hospital.
Having a deeply pained Tara shout betrayal at her until she went blue in the face and collapsed from exhaustion was beyond preferable to this torment.
This next scene was of the night Sam left Woodsboro and abandoned Tara to the hellish care of their mother Christina Carpenter.
No wonder Ghostface had picked it. . .
Sam stood seated on the floor, with Ghostface pressing their knees deep onto her shoulders to keep her more firmly pinned in place this time.
Their trusty hunters' knife had returned to the side of her throat, ready to do its ghastly work if needed.
All Sam could do for now was watch the scene before her play out with its vivid realism.
She could close her eyes, but Ghostface would no doubt notice and swiftly proceed to deliver up on their threat.
So, Sam watched helplessly, noting that her memory hadn't left out a single detail with this emotionally entangled moment being deeply embedded into her soul like a permanent scar.
"Haven't you dragged this family down far enough Samantha?" Christina asked firmly, although her anger was faint as she stared accusingly at her chaotic mess of an elder daughter from what was formerly the family coach in a dimly lit lounge.
Christina Carpenter held the appearance of a sullen looking woman for her late thirties. She was still very beautiful, but much of her shinning brown curls, youthful facial features had gradually waned, lost to depression. There was a steadily growing reliance on alcohol as a coping mechanism, but mostly Christina's depression had brought about crows feet around her eyes, which only highlighted her weariness over the years. She sat up straight on the couch, in well tailored clothes that were a little faded.
The only part of the elder Carpenter that remained truly vibrant were her eyes, a bluish brown and they shone strongly with a whirlwind of emotions.
It wasn't that Christina was angry with Sam's binge drinking and constant drug habit that had spiralled into a near all consuming addiction; she was passed that now. Presently she was just critical and always looking at ways on which to shift further blame onto Sam for tearing their family apart.
Since the catalyst for the family's fragmentation, Christina had declared war against Sam and vigorously pursued her own daughter's emotional destruction.
Tonight, was just another battle in a long exhausting conflict of mother vs daughter.
"Night after night you are out getting your next fix and causing worry for both me and Tara," Christina stated disapprovingly, not hiding her distain. . .as always.
"I am touched that you worry about me," Sam remarked coldly, with as much insult she could project through her voice.
Although hearing that Tara was concerned, no, Sam already knew that she was deeply worried, and it was the one bit of her mother's words that actually hurt.
And Christiana knew it, searching Sam's worn out eyes for the slightest hint of guilt for harming Tara, despite it being indirectly.
The woman who had once deeply loved her as a mother should, now at times acted like a wolf prowling its den and exploiting any sign of weakness from other lesser members of the pack to demonstrate its dominance and to project. . .
Christina had long crafted ways of projecting her own failures onto others and Sam was the principal target for it all.
Yet Christina had been the one to lay the seeds for such a heart shattering outcome, not that she would ever admit it to anyone, let alone herself.
The guilt was too much to bear, her precious psyche had barely recovered from the actual fallout of her own actions.
In the following years, Christina had become fire and ice, glaring at Sam constantly with a fire that froze her to the spot and a coldness that burned through her soul.
"For how long Sam you will burden Tara with your destructive behaviour, it has been another sleepless night for her and for me; not to mention the difficulty I have with getting her out of the house every morning for school," Christina stated coldly, glaring hard at the young woman she begrudgingly called her daughter, listing yet another problem that Sam of course had caused.
"Tara stays up every night waiting just for you to come home, crying her eyes out until she falls asleep exhausted by the effort; she knows you are in pain Sam, but she cannot help."
"She is losing focus in her classes, being easily distracted and sullen according to her teachers; her grades are slipping, and she does nothing but linger around the house."
"Even when she is out with her friends she is depressed; Amber, Wes, Mindy, Chad and Liv have all mentioned at various times how Tara perks up for a while and then easily withdraws back into herself."
And you know it Sam, your behaviour could easily be seen by others as being rather selfish, one would think."
Would think, that phrase, Sam knew that Christina used it to highlight how she shaped public opinion on the breakdown of their family.
Granted, she had never told anyone the real reason, she wouldn't dare as long as she lived, but gaining sympathy as a reaction to Sam's chaotic behaviour had blacken the young Carpenter's image in eyes of their neighbours and friends.
Meanwhile, Current Sam had been watching with reluctant interest, whilst Ghostface kept her physically pinned in a seated position.
"I do at times wonder if she ever truly loved me since that day," Sam muttered lowly, more to herself, but she felt Ghostface's robes ruffle above her as the latter glanced down. They were like a fallen angel staring at her from on high and with how their black robes nearly enveloped the young Sam, it was like sinking into a black abyss.
"It would be no loss on your part, if she were to die?" Ghostface asked, they sounded curious, but the sinister overtone from their voice modifier merely signalled a dark intent on their part.
"Perhaps, but then I would worry for Tara, as much as she has cut ties with mom; I know that deep down she still cares for her, other than Amber, Mindy, Chad, Liv and Wes, mom was in some ways there for Tara. . .at least," Sam replied reflectively, but she didn't hide her sorrow.
She then stiffened when she felt Ghostface's gloved hands grip her shoulders.
"Did she do a good job though Samantha?" Ghostface inquired further leaning down.
"She didn't protect Tara that's for bloody sure!" Sam whispered harshly, keeping her eyes forward on the memory as it played out before her.
"Are you happy with that answer Ghostfuck!"
Ghostface pressed further, ignoring Sam's cheap insult.
"Are you?"
"No, she fucking failed, it was the very least she could have done, but mom was a slave to her own demons!"
Sam shook her head dismissively.
"I shouldn't have been surprised really, but that call from Wes when Amber attacked Tara came right out the blue; I dared to believe that Tara could be kept safe."
Ghostface hummed for a moment, before asking with renewed curiosity.
"Do you feel that you made a mistake, by leaving Tara behind in Woodsboro?"
Sam felt herself go tense; the question did hit a nerve.
She had asked herself this question shortly after the events in Woodsboro a year ago, when she and Tara were recovering in hospital.
Laying on a hospital bed, hooked up to various medications gave her plenty of time to think, when she wasn't keeping a very close eye on Tara.
Could she had prevented Tara falling into Amber's arms by taking Tara with her when she left?
Just tell Tara that she was taking her somewhere safe, far away from their alcoholic and disconnected mother, where the past couldn't find them.
And perhaps having Tara around constantly would have enabled Sam to centre herself, avoid going off the rails to the extent that she originally did.
It might have worked. . .if there were no major hurdles. . .but Sam was her own major hurdle.
She left Tara behind so she didn't fall victim to her own destructive behaviour and her own fears of who she might become, if she accepted how others saw her and gave into her father's legacy.
However, taking Tara with her could have been the lesser of two evils; because Amber had driven a knife so deep into Tara's precious heart that it would never fully heal.
The actions of that psychotic bitch and the immense pain she had caused for Tara caused a flare of anger to flicker hungrily in Sam's gut.
"Not talking Samantha?" Ghostface asked, lightly shaking Sam by the shoulders.
"It is a question that I cannot answer," Sam replied firmly, not shifting her gaze from what was going on before her eyes.
Ghostface bent down and leaned in uncomfortably close, Sam could feel their breath against her ears as they spoke coldly.
"That only means you do think it was a mistake, it is ok to admit it to me Samantha, I know you well enough."
"You are with Tara now, so perhaps you can fix your past mistakes with her. . .if you have enough time that is."
"What do you mean enough time?" Sam asked with urgency. She was unable to repress her fear at the mere thought of Tara being taken before she could fully amend things.
"Death can come suddenly Samantha," Ghostface muttered factually, but the insidiousness in their voice only gave evidence to their inner twisted joy.
"We'll see, you have threatened me before and you lost badly," Sam remarked scornfully.
"Remember that you lost four times to Sidney before you dared to come after me, you never learn."
Sam winced as she suddenly felt Ghostface's sharp knife press deeply against her neck.
"Careful now Samantha, don't get cocky when dealing with a masked serial killer, isn't that one of Mindy's meta references?"
Sam didn't answer this time, but Ghostface kept the knife very close to Sam's throat, its cold steel serving as a constant reminder.
"Still, let's keep watching," Ghostface ordered firmly, slowly taking hold of Sam's head, and fully redirecting her attention back towards the memory of her past self and Christina.
Past Sam didn't response to Christina's jab at her own failings, continuing to stare her mother down with folded arms and a hard unmoved expression of her own; not wanting to give her mother any ground in this argument.
Christina sighed at Sam's defiant silence, she resumed speaking, continually verablly lashing away at her.
"I know that you care deeply about Tara, Sam, understandably and I hate seeing what has become of you, but your self-harming behaviour is impacting Tara above anyone else here, and I fear that she might-"
"Become like me, so you do show concern, but just when it comes to Tara!" Sam remarked sharply, her eyes were burning with anger and if she dared to admit it to herself, a little bit of resentment too.
She never admitted feeling that way to Tara, it would do them no good.
Christina didn't back down in the face of Sam's sudden response, she knew when a nerve had been hit, twisting in the verbal knife a little more.
"With how you have been behaving ever since you made dad leave and that Tara adores you utterly Sam, we both know it, I fear that she would take after you."
Sam's eyes flared up in a rage, how dare she even go down that line of thinking.
"And what, Tara will suddenly go on a drinking bender, become a drug addict, fucking kill someone because it feels good, bear in mind that I never have done the fucking latter!" Sam hissed; her face framed in open anger.
"I know you hate me for what I represent and for what I fucking remind you of everyday!" she further cursed.
"You just want me gone, you have already mentally rewritten what happened and why dad left, that's your bullshit way of coping, fine, but I won't leave Tara with you!"
Now Christina smiled cruelly, but confidently as well, her now darken brown bluish eyes narrowing.
"What support do you have Sam, think straight through that drug addled mind of yours, you are wasted every night when you come home; you have no healthy social life to really speak of."
The verbal beatings kept coming.
"You are barely able to hold down any job that you get, and your mental health has been slipping, at times I don't know if I am speaking to my daughter or to Billy Loomis."
Hearing the name of her true father caused Sam to speak, before her mind could coherently think on how to properly articulate her words, but Christina cut her right off each time she tired.
"I-"
"I see it in your eyes Sam, the exact same look your father wore whenever someone annoyed him, a silent but burning rage."
"I-"
"I have been vague on the details when I tell Tara about your late night benders, but we both know your ingrained rage when your inner frustrations manifest and that doesn't take much."
"I-"
"Social services will never agree to let you be Tara's guardian Sam; you lack the means and the mental capabilities to be a proper decent carer."
"Well so do you!" Sam roared enraged, finally finding her voice as she loomed over the older woman and bringing Christina fully into her daughter's shadow.
"Let's drag up your failings, cheating on your husband, lying to him for decades, that put a mighty dent in your image, let alone social reputation!"
Christina opened her mouth to reply, but Sam swiftly cut her off, pouring out her anger at the woman who had emotionally disconnected her for five years running.
"Then for your beloved children for whom you cannot live without, or so you claim; you are growing increasingly absent, but occasionally visiting bars; not to mention you refuse to help me in anything as a punishment for what I did and neither giving me or Tara proper counselling for what happened!"
"Tara needs it especially considering the impact dad's departure has had on her, she is depressed mom and yet you do nothing, because that would only draw greater attention to the problem that you repeatedly shove under the God dam rug!"
"Your only claim to motherhood right now is being our biological mother, that's fucking it!"
"And who created this problem Sam, who tore the family apart?" Christina asked in a low hateful tone, her eyes burned with anger, but Sam wasn't going to play along anymore.
"You did, when you fucked a serial killer and then lied to dad, would you ever have told him the truth, if I or Tara didn't uncover it first!?" Sam asked adamantly. Her eyes were alit with anger and her breathing was shallow but intense, her heart thundered away in her chest like a might war drum.
Christina didn't answer, but she didn't need to, the answer was an obivious no.
"You truly are pathetic mom," Sam muttered bitterly, her words finally forcing an embattled response from Christina.
"Regardless of what I did Sam, you shouldn't have just burst in shouting and screaming at me as you did."
Sam threw her head back and laughed in open frustration, before responding firmly.
"Of course, it is my fault for revealing your dark secret, not you, never you, it can never be you mom."
Then Sam's voice become harsh as she lined up her next words, going straight for the jugular. She felt her hands tightening to become fists, her heart raced ever wilder in her chest, threatening to burst forth.
"But then, really, what should I expect as the disgraced fucked up daughter of a serial killer who fucked you for sloppy seconds whilst he pined for golden girl Sidney Prescott!"
Christina openly growled, reaching up with her hands to grab Sam by the throat, her anger fully engaged by the deep cutting insult. It was rare for her to lash out like this, sticking to a war of words, but Sam had pressed the nuclear button, she wanted to.
Yet Sam already anticipated such a move, being all fired up herself to the point where she couldn't mentally climb down from the intense rage.
The red mist flowed over her eyes.
She easily deflected Christina's attempts to grab her, forcibly shoving the older woman's arms to the side, before reaching down and clasping hold of Christina's throat tightly, but not enough to choke her. . .yet.
The move got Christina's full attention, with Sam lowering herself down to directly stare at her mother in the eye. Sam's gaze was cold and detached, yet it was equally furious and borderline murderous.
Christina's eyes widen in shock and then narrowed in open recognition as she spoke lowly.
"There's the look, you have your father's eyes Samantha Loomis, the anger, the need to shed blood, it is almost primeval."
Christina's eyes almost glowed with a reflective and bitter resentment as she kept speaking.
"Billy got like that whenever he started talking about Sidney bloody Prescott; he was with her and yet he hated her to such a degree that it was impressive with how he kept himself contained whenever they were together."
"Up until the moment he was done with her, but you are more your father than you are of me Sam, thankfully Tara doesn't seem to have picked up any bad tra-."
Suddenly Sam's hold immediately tightened, forcing Christina to choke on her words, struggling to utter them.
The sound of Christina gasping was music to Sam's ears as she leaned in close, her own brown eyes were cold and sharp as she whispered through gritted teeth.
"Then you should be fucking afraid of me mom, I am easily provoked and can lash out in destructive ways as you said."
Christina struggled in Sam's vice like grip, practically clawing away at her hands with her fingers, but Sam's hold was too strong to be broken.
Sam couldn't help but smile, enjoying her feeling of supremacy, this turn of the tables had long been overdue.
Plus, the apparent fear in Christina's face was only making this moment more precious for her, searing itself into her memory.
"You have a drinking problem, your liver must be runner up for the most overworked globally and let's say tonight it failed; you are on the floor choking on your blood and you die before Tara finds you in the morning, how does that sound?" Sam questioned mockingly, already knowing the answer.
"Tara adores me, who would she believe mom?"
Again, the answer was obivious, but Christina wasn't going to concede easily.
"You be. . .arrested, no one would. . .believe you. . . you wouldn't. . .get away with it Sam!" she hissed between desperate gasps for air.
"I would. . .haunt you. . .to the end. . .of your bloody days. . .and beyond!"
Amidst the sounds of Christina openly struggling came the joyous and manic laughter of Ghostface, unable to contain themselves as the scene played out.
Current Sam was sharply gripped by the shoulders and pulled upwards in an instant, so she was now standing. Ghostface rested their head on her right shoulder with their hunters knife being enthusiastically pointed directly at Past Sam.
"THERE YOU ARE SAMATHA LOOMIS!" Ghostface yelled with much elaborated joy and what came over as pride amidst their sinister overtone.
"THE FUCKING REAL YOU AND YOU LOVED EVERY FUCKING MOMENT OF IT!"
Current Sam couldn't deny it, she wouldn't, she did love every second that moment gave her.
For a brief few seconds, Sam allowed herself to smile, remembering the intoxication of power her actions had given her, relishing the look of fear Christina's eyes held. Sam's own eyes lit up with a sadistic satisfaction, gleaming with joy, embracing the rush it delivered to her exhausted mind and strangely enough the sense of inner peace it brought.
With the bloodlust, came a feeling of relief washing over her mind with a tight knot loosening around her heart.
Ghostface turned and saw Sam's manic expression and despite the facemask, Sam could feel their smile, approving of what they saw.
"How does it feel, to stop pretending Samantha?" they asked curiously, but their voice carried happiness that seemed genuine.
"It feels. . ."
Ghostface inclined their head, silently urging her on.
"It feels so. . ."
Seeing the relief in her past self, the happiness at being the one in control for once.
To hold one's life in her hands, to be in absolute control for as long as the situation lasted.
To be a god. . .
What if Sam had done it, killed Christina, and then fled with Tara that night, forging a new life on the foundation of a lie, but ideally free of the shackles of the past.
Tara. . .
"It feels so. . ."
Sam struggled to answer as new thoughts now blossomed in her mind, with her battered moral compass spinning wildly.
Would Tara find out the truth?
Would Sam be able to convincingly hide any evidence of her involvement from the police?
What if they still found out, tracked her down and tore her and Tara apart; with the latter having to come to terms with the undeniable evidence that Sam had murdered their mother?
Tara would go with social services and if any of their distant relatives were unable or unwilling to take her in, she would be transferred into the adaptation system and then end up in the hands of an unknown family.
It would end with her mother being dead and buried, her father listed as completely untraceable if he couldn't be found and her only sibling, a murderer locked up in jail for life. . .or awaiting the death sentence.
Tara would have no one and with all the trauma that Sam's lies could have inflicted on her, not to mention the family's previous breakdown; she would be left vulnerable to the darkest sections of society and possibly go completely off the rails.
Like Sam did. . .and she just managed to survive, Tara wouldn't. . .
"It feels. . ."
Sam couldn't answer, she was firmly in two minds now. The thought of Tara suffering in this alternative timeline. It brought up images of her happy smile and warm eyes which contrasted sharply with the heavy embracing feeling of bloodlust induced joy.
Sam had left Woodsboro because she was afraid of turning into someone who could hurt Tara, far more than she had been doing prior to leaving.
Attacking her own mother only served to prove her fears right.
It had been a big mistake.
Sam leaving turned out to be the lesser of two evils, despite the pain Amber Freeman had managed to inflict on Tara.
Amber wasn't alive now to continue hurting her baby sister, the scars she had delivered would fade with time.
"I feel conflicted," Sam said hesitantly, her resolve noticeably wavering in her voice.
"Yet I know that killing mom would have deeply hurt Tara far beyond what I could have ever imagined."
"What I did to mom was a mistake, for the first time I really saw what I was capable of if I slipped."
Ghostface sighed deeply, their disappointment beyond doubt, as they withdrew to stand firmly behind Sam.
"Pity Samantha, you were so close to accepting yourself just then, but patience is a virtue, the more you see, the more you will grow to embrace yourself fully, instead of sitting on the fucking fence."
They redirected their gaze forward, watching the memory continue its run.
Past Sam smirked in the face of Christiana's pathetic defiance, the darkness in Sam's brown eyes almost glowed and it clearly terrified Christina. Her collected and cold demeanour had been torn away to reveal in the end what she always was.
A malicious coward, constantly shifting blame onto to others.
"Finally," Sam muttered amusingly, it only made her detached demeanour appear more unhinged.
"Haunting me, now that is a promise I think you would actually honour mom."
Sam then slacked her grip on Christina's throat, enough for her to speak without struggling.
"Would you really kill me, Sam, if so then you really are your father's daughter!" Christina growled viciously.
The glow in Sam's brown eyes died down, the bloodlust fading, the inner peace she felt receding around her heart.
Sam's widened as her inner horror expressed itself once she realised just what she had done.
She gasped as she fully withdrew her hand from Christina's neck, struggling to get her panicked words out.
"Fuck, mom, I, I, I didn't mean to go so far, I-"
Yet Christina, having recovered her composure frowned, her eyes burned with anger.
Despite her earlier intentions she wouldn't have gone as far as Sam did and yet again, her specially chosen words hit home.
"Thanks for proving my point right though Sam, if you will lash at your own mother, questions would be raised about your ability to not harm Tara."
"Regardless of what you claim, no one else will see things differently, I know you love Tara, but how could I trust you, if you can't even trust yourself?"
Sam walked back, her hands grasping her chest as her heart throbbed with crushing anguish at her own behaviour. Her own mind was screaming at itself.
"FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK!"
She was getting worse. . .
How long did Tara have before Sam lashed out at her over the smallest of things?
"I would never harm Tara!" she protested, but she didn't believe her own words now, her own voice came over as half hearted.
Christina spoke with renewed vigour; Sam's attack having fuelled her conviction.
"We both know that your declarations for loving Tara would be undermined by your past history, your various run ins with the law, no court in this country would decide in your favour, never!"
"Say one day you slipped, embraced the red mist, donned the infamous facemask and actually did attack Tara or worse killed her Sam!"
"How would that look for you!"
Sam had no response this time, clutching her chest as though she was in deep physical pain, sinking to the floor and onto her knees.
Tears quickly welled up in her eyes, feeling a hard lump form in her throat as it suddenly felt raw. She gasped for breath as her mind reeled with her fear enveloping her like a raging storm cloud.
"Truly Sam, despite how we feel towards eachother; I had held hope that perhaps you might be able to pull yourself back together for Tara's sake," Christina remarked reflectively, before her voice took on a more dismissive tone.
"But you are not going to change Sam and you are dragging Tara down; forget me and just think on how much chaos you are creating for your younger sister right now."
"She just wants to reconnect and yet you keep pushing her away, eventually if you push her away far enough, she will just walk away entirely, and the image of the loving and protective older sister would be broken, and you will be there to see it happen Sam."
"We both know it."
Sam looked away, unable to face Christina in the eye.
She looked directly at actual Sam and Ghostface, not that she could actually see them.
The pair were still watching, both deeply engaged in what was unfolding, despite it being all predetermined.
The utter distraught look on her past self's face made Sam's own heart ache, she felt herself tremble.
This was a moment she wished she could forget, shatter into pieces again and again, until nothing remained but mere atoms.
Christina sighed as she leaned forward, resting her head in her hands as she stared at Sam.
"Sam, listen, I feel that we at an impasse here, that a decision on how we move forward must be made, so will you get help for Tara's sake, more intense therapy?"
An olive branch, it was unlike her mother to be so accommodating, but perhaps the attack had rattled her motherly side free from her inner cage. Her daughter was in open distress after all.
Sam had heard her, but her mind was already made up.
There was only one decent option left, it was the best way to protect Tara.
She had to leave. . .tonight, before she got any worse.
She couldn't change course, being too broken and crippled by her own demons.
What good could therapy do, it would just be a waste of family resources that could be better spent on Tara's welfare.
Sam was able to acknowledge that she was messed up and how much pain it was really causing Tara.
Staying would only make things worse for everyone, but Sam only thought of Tara, only cared for Tara, and only lived still for Tara.
Her bright smile, her warm brown eyes and sweet laughter of joy, those images were now consigned to the past, to another life.
Sam didn't care about herself and had been thinking less of Christina as years passed.
Yet Sam knew in her heart that Tara would fair better under Christina's care than that of her own.
With two demons in the house Tara would continually suffer, but with just one, then she had a chance of normality.
Christina, despite her faults, was still bound as a parent to care for her child and perhaps without Sam around she could her dislike for Sam aside and focus on Tara.
This was a chance to give her some desperately needed stability at home.
If Sam allowed herself to be replaced as the sun in Tara's world, let herself be forgotten, then Tara would be set free, no longer be burdened by Sam's behaviour.
Tara would grieve, there was no doubt she would, but in time she would move on, from her father, from Sam, from everything wretched that ever held her down.
It was for the best, for Tara's sake and Sam could suffer alone.
They would both get what was best for them, what they each deserved.
Sam exhaled deeply, clearing the competing armies of thoughts from her mind, and allowing her tense filled shoulders and hands to relax, just a little bit.
She wiped the tears from her eyes before turning to look back at Christina. The elder woman remained sitting upright. Her brown bluish eyes were stoic, and her hands were now clasped together, but they were slightly shaking with anticipation.
She could sense that her daughter had made her decision.
"I'll leave. . .tonight, to make things easier for Tara," Sam declared unwavering, repressing any hesitation she held about her decision.
"I'll go away, as far as I can, for Tara's benefit and so you can focus on her, forget about me."
Sam slowly pushed herself up off the floor, swiftly adding.
"I will say goodbye to Tara before I go, for my sake."
Christina's brown bluish eyes lit up with what could only be described as complete surprise, followed by realisation, and then succeeded by an uneasy sense of relief. . .was this a victory of sorts?
She didn't know how to feel in the moment, the implications of her daughter's words were hitting her too fast.
"I'll go mom, drink yourself a bottle or two on that win," Sam remarked with distain, forcing her emotions down deep as she walked past the coach, heading for the stairs. In doing so, she passed both Current Sam and Ghostface. They watched Sam's past self depart the scene, tracking her movements.
"I'll quickly pack my stuff, not that I have much left with what I have already sold away for money on drugs and alcohol, that's no secret in this house."
Christina looked back at her daughter with what could at best be described as cautious optimism, Sam's words were still sinking in.
"I'll arrange for Amber to come over tomorrow, being Tara's closest friend, she will need the emotional support for when I tell her," Christina remarked firmly, foreseeing what tomorrow would bring.
"Thanks for already arranging my replacement through fucking Amber; but I'll be gone in fifteen minutes mom and then you will get your peace," Sam bitterly muttered, slowly walking up the stairs, trying to minimise any noise she made.
Christina's next words made her pause briefly.
"I will tell Tara everything though Sam, as she gets older, I will reveal more of the truth, she'll ask questions."
Christina rubbed at her throat, feeling the soreness of Sam's grip.
"I won't tell her about tonight though, she wouldn't believe it anyway."
"Thank you," Sam muttered reluctantly, her hand resting on the banister.
Although she suspected that Christina wouldn't tell Tara simply because she would believe that Sam had a good reason to lash out at their mother. Well, at her young idolising age she might think that. . .as Tara got older though, maybe her opinion on Sam would change.
Sam continued heading up the stairs, she knew that Tara would still be fast asleep, regardless it was better to be safe than sorry. . .
Ghostface turned their attention back to Current Sam, their gaze despite their fixed facemask seemed to be questioning. Sam felt their knife being withdrawn from her throat, their knife arm steadily returning to their side.
"It was so hard to say goodbye, you fought to take Tara with, but truly Samantha, do you really think that things will ever turn out well for you and Tara?"
"They will, I have to believe and if you keep coming back, then I will keep killing you every single fucking time!" Sam declared in defiance, turning her head to glare up at Ghostface.
Regardless of how scary they acted; they were still just a living breathing person wearing a costume. They can be killed and buried. . .and should stay buried.
"We always come back Samantha, the same face, the same voice and with the same aim!"
Sam tore herself free from Ghostface's grip with a harsh body slam, her strength being enough to make them stagger backwards slightly, before they even got a chance to use their hunters knife.
She whipped round, glaring and barring her teeth at Ghostface.
"NO, I AM DONE BEING TERRIFED BY YOU, THIS TIME, I'LL MAKE SURE IT IS YOUR LAST!"
Ghostface chuckled, sounding both amused and threatening at the same time.
"Sidney herself said as much!"
"You might succeed today, gain a year or two's break, maybe even a decade, but there are no happy endings in this franchise; no final 'peace', even Sidney, the original final girl must keep looking over her shoulder."
Ghostface walked forward, technically they were in the same scene as the memory itself, but as before; Sam and Ghostface were merely ghosts in there among shadows of the past.
"What did Sidney tell you after in the immediate aftermath of the last Woodsboro killing, oh yes, that eventually this will all become normal, well, does it feel normal now Samantha?" Ghostface asked menacingly.
Sam backed away, making sure to keep beyond an arm's length, even though Ghostface loomed over her still.
"I have Tara, that's all I really need in life to feel normal," Sam answered truthfully, putting as much conviction into her voice as she could muster, to avoid giving Ghostface the slightest indication of doubt.
"And what would you be without Tara Samantha?" they inquired ominously.
Sam didn't want to imagine what she would be, to even think of a world without Tara in it.
Sam's life would be empty, soulless, devoid of any real meaning as she drifted through it without a purpose.
Surviving, but not living as Tara said earlier in the store as they lay both bloodied and bruised.
Sam's life would be shattered without Tara, her sun, her light.
Well…that wasn't quite true.
There was another purpose. . .
The only other thing could revive her and make her feel alive again.
Donning the mask
As though they knew Sam had concluded the only other path open left for her; Ghostface reached into their robes with their free hand and slowly pulled out another facemask. It was an exact replica of their own, but clearly aged with its white paint having faded away, losing its shine.
Sam with wide eyes felt an instinctive call to take it. Like the mask was reaching out to her soul and latching on. She knew it to be Billy Loomis's mask, the original. . it always went back to the original somehow.
"You need not embrace yourself fully until Tara dies Samantha, you can and have used your bloodlust as a shield, taken down the monsters who dare to take both Tara and you out of this world."
"See it as a comprise Samantha, because the only real way to survive in a world of monsters, is to become the biggest monster of them all."
Sam bit her lip, she couldn't entirely disagree, that considerable. . .no. . .significant part of herself eagerly agreed with Ghostface's words.
If she became what other people saw her as, but only to defend the ones she loved, to even take out the monsters before they dared to become a threat, that would be manageable for her.
It would keep Tara's life free of trouble with Sam as her vengeful guardian angel.
Ghostface held out the facemask, despite the framed nature of their facemask, their posture now carried a fanatic eagerness.
"You can keep Tara safe Samantha and shed the blood of those fuckers who dare try to harm either of you; you can literally exist in both worlds," they said, speaking with great conviction.
"No more running, no more hiding, if anything those said monsters would be running from you, after having shed enough blood, you and Tara would be free."
That line of thinking was what Sam wanted, for her and Tara to be free. Yet Sam recognised that what Ghostface was saying would very easily lead to a slippery slope.
And what if Tara found out, would she dare to turn Sam in, to run away out of disgust . . .or. . .would she join in and don the mask herself, acting as her elder sister's shield, just like Sam was acting for her.
Two sisters acting as Ghostface, wearing the mantle and owning the blood soaked legacy for their own purposes. A very twisted definition of 'Carpenters together'.
That look in Tara's eyes when she was cutting deep into Ethan; the cold cruelty that lurked there within her brown pupils. The corrupted sense of acceptance that Sam felt rising deep within her, although now, she wasn't entirely if it was corrupted at all but genuine.
Sam genuinely felt happy with what she saw in Tara; because out of the everyone in her life, only Tara could truly understand her and love her unconditionally for all her faults.
And it scared her. . .
"The more you fight it Samantha," Ghostface remarked with both great conviction and sternness.
"The worse you will become over time; you will sink and drown and if you do, you may end up worse than you ever could have feared than were you to willingly accept the mask."
Sam looked at the floor, her breath being quick as her mind raced wildly, again being in two places, rejecting and accepting Ghostface's words. Her emotions, both good and bad were colliding and morphing all at once, shifting her mood in all directions.
She wanted to run, to get away from this hellish place, the past was an anchor, going over it endlessly was pointless, it was frozen in time.
The present was all that mattered, in that she had choices, free will and a younger sister who loved her deeply and wanted nothing more than for Sam to be happy because she deserved to be.
Tara's words from earlier rang loudly through the raging storm of thoughts and emotions that clouded Sam's mind.
"If you can't be happy for yourself then at least promise me that you will be for my sake."
"You deserve a life too."
"I want you to be happy because it will make me happy, ok."
"Promise me Sammy."
Sam muttered something under her breath, too quiet for Ghostface to hear.
"Sorry, what did you say Samantha?" they asked curiously, but with an ominous undertone.
"Do tell. . ."
Sam glanced upwards, her eyes burned with rage, to the point where they seemed to glow, but there was something else that was more than dominant than rage.
Conviction. . .a heartfelt determination.
"I said that I promised Tara I would be happy for her sake and that I deserve a life free of this bullshit!" Sam roared.
Ghostface seemed to be actually taken back by Sam's words, withdrawing their free hand, slowly stuffing the facemask back inside their robes.
"Fuck you, fuck your threats and fuck your vaulted talk of legacy and inevitability!"
"The only day on which I will lose myself is the day I lose Tara forever."
Ghostface just stood there, their expression unreadable thanks to their facemask, their inner thoughts unknown as Sam ranted.
"You are nothing more than a ghost, and you deserve to stay dead and buried forever, dragged into hell, because that is where all of the other previous bullshitters went, especially Billy!"
Sam stepped back, further widening the distance between herself and Ghostface. She wanted to leave. If this was indeed a dream, then waking up should be easy enough.
Only. . .it wasn't.
Sam had been so focused on her own thoughts and Ghostface, that she hadn't noticed the major shift in her surroundings.
The lounge setting was gone, as was her past self and her mother.
Just darkness remained, stretching out in all directions without end, with only Sam's immediate surroundings being lit up somehow. It was how she was still able to distinguish Ghostface's arms from their main body, even though their black robes would make their entire body blend into together.
Sam looked around everywhere at once, desperate to find something that indicated an exit.
Ghostface lowered their head, probably thinking Sam's words over, for once they seemed to be unsure of what to say.
Good. . .if it shut them for a solid minute so Sam could actually think straight.
"This is a real pity, Samantha?" Ghostface began, speaking observantly.
They raised their head, now looking directly at Sam. Their unseen eyes staring through the eyeholes of their mask directly into Sam's brown frantic pupils.
"You seemed so close to a breakthrough, but you are as stubborn as your father," Ghostface muttered dismissively, but there was a steadily growing anger in their voice.
They stepped forward, taking big strides as they rapidly closed the distance, with Sam backing away again.
"I warned you that you will sink if you fight it and that you will end up worst than what you already fear if you just accepted your inheritance willingly."
They slowly drew their knife out from the folds of their robes. Alarm bells started to ring in Sam's mind. In truth they were already ringing from the start and just rang louder.
"Because now there is only one option that I can see left open for you."
The sinisterness in their voice rang clear, their dark intentions were beyond obivious.
"You say that you will only lose yourself if you lose Tara. . .well, if that's all it will take for you to embrace yourself Samantha. . ."
"You're not real, you cannot harm her, you don't exist like the others!" Sam yelled back in defiance.
Ghostface tilted their head from left to right, thinking Sam's words over before replying in their typical ominous tone.
"Correct, I won't harm her. . .but you will Samantha, when I have first crushed you. . .utterly."
Sam immediately turned and ran, sprinting in the opposite direction, heading for where hopefully an exit lay. There was nothing around her that could help to map this place out. If this really was her own mind, then it shouldn't be this empty, given the daily amount of thoughts that she had.
Right now, all Sam could think of was finding a way out of this hell, to get back to Tara if it was the very last thing she could do before death itself claimed her.
"Go ahead, run Samantha, if you actually want to make it a challenge!" Ghostface called out, practically growling as they tighten their grip on their hunters' knife.
"That just makes it more fun for me!"
There was a sudden swoosh of their robes as Ghostface practically sprinted forward. Their trusty knife ready to slash deep and drawn forth enough blood until the metallic smell overwhelmed their senses and sent them into the warm comfort of a bloodlust frenzy.
Sam ran, her feet rapidly hitting the unseen ground as she legged it as fast as her legs would carry her. She wished that she was back in her normal twenty five year old body and had an adult's stamina.
Ghostface was quickly catching up, Sam could hear the constant swoosh noise their cloak made as they ran, getting louder with each passing second.
Would they kill her, without a doubt?
Or would they conduct something worse than death, could you even die inside a dream?
Was this some strange mind battle between the two sides of herself, light and dark duelling for ultimate control having been held in a fine balance up until now?
If so, then what had been the trigger?
Sam didn't know and she wasn't dare going to turn around and ask Ghostface.
"Sam, sam, sam are you there?"
"TARA?" Sam cried out; her heart practically lunged out of her chest at her sister's voice.
"TARA I'M HERE!"
"Come on, mom's making mac and cheese, she says its ready and she had garlic bread too!"
Sam felt her heart sink deep, it was just another memory on replay.
Soon another memory spoke up, being far louder than the first.
"WHAT DO YOU MEAN MY DAD IS NOT MY REAL DAD!?"
"WHY IS IT FUCKING BILLY LOOMIS MOM!"
Screams and rage induced tearful shouts.
It was her aged thirteen, angrily bursting in on her mom with her old school dairies in hand.
As Sam kept running the voices became louder, she felt like she was going in the right direction.
Then she got another indication that she was on (she hoped) the correct path.
On either sides of this tunnel, or corridor, or whatever it was, images began to materialise into being. They swiftly decorated her entire surroundings like the inside of a colourful kaleidoscope as they blended into eachother.
Everyone was moving with sounds coming from all directions, scenes from Sam's life playing back before her eyes.
Old memories, new ones, happy, sad, angry, peaceful, every range of emotion or experience that she had gone through and felt were on full display before her.
It would be a beautiful sight to fully take in, if it weren't for the tense chase she was enduring right now.
The constant approaching footfalls of Ghostface caused Sam to instinctively look back. . .she immediately regretted it.
Ghostface was almost on top of her, their sharp knife raised with their free arm stretched out to grab and pull her back upon which the knife would do its bloody work.
Sam screamed in open terror, pushing herself to her physical limit in a desperate attempt to outrace Ghostface.
This cursed place didn't seem to have any end in sight, stretching on for entirety.
Thinking quick, Sam took the only other avenue that she saw available, it was a risk, but she had seconds before Ghostface caught up with her.
Sharply changing direction Sam spirited left, heading straight for one of the memories. Which one exactly, she didn't know or care, but it might enable her to lose Ghostface long enough to escape.
Screaming in both frustration and fear, she slammed herself with all her might against one of the memory screens.
CRASH!
Sam felt herself hit glass, it completely shattered under the force of her action as she fell forward, falling into a sea of colour as various sounds from the memory flooded her ears.
She was falling and her senses were assaulted with colour and sounds beyond description as they flooded past; but then the darkness swiftly returned, as though each memory was like a small window, and she had fallen out the other side.
Back into the darkness that longed to consume her whole. . .
(Begin the song here).
We see Sam freefalling out of the memory.
"Do what you, what you want, if you have a dream for better."
No dreams for the wicked.
"Do what you, what you want, til you don't want it anymore."
Father like daughter. . .
"Remember who you really are. . ."
Sam lands hard on an unknown blackish surface.
She steadily picks herself up as coloured memories rapidly surround her, showing Sam her life from beginning to present day.
"Do what you, what you want."
They form a tight circle.
"Your world's closing in on you now!"
"It isn't over. . ."
Sam tries to push them back to no avail, as countless sounds bombard her ears.
"Stand and face the unknown!"
A miserable life leading to one tragic outcome.
"Got to remember who you really are!"
Sam sees one memory of Tara floating by, she desperately reaches out for it.
"Every heart in my hands, like a pale reflection!"
Then Ghostface bursts through the image, looming over Sam.
"Hello, hello, remember me?"
Their malice is all dominating.
"I'm everything you can't control!"
They eagerly reach out for Sam.
"Somewhere beyond the pain, there must be a way to believe we can break through!"
Sam runs, passing through innumerable memories.
"Do what you, what you want!"
In each one there is suffering.
"You don't have to lay your life down."
But Sam will for Tara's sake.
"Is it over?"
Never!
"Do what you, what you want, til you find what you're looking for."
Once a killer always a killer.
"Got to remember who you really are. . ."
Sam sees one memory of a bloodied Tara being sadistically hunted by Amber.
"But every hour slipping by, screams that I have failed you!"
Sam reaches out for it, but Ghostface swiftly looms through the image.
"Hello, hello, remember me?"
Their hunters knife gleams.
"I'm everything you can't control!"
Just give in and be free. . ..
"Somewhere beyond the pain, there must be a way to believe!"
Multiple Ghostface start materialising around Sam.
"Hello, hello, remember me?"
All reaching out with malicious intent.
"I'm everything you can't control!"
Sam ducks through the cordon, running in terror.
"Somewhere beyond the pain, there must be a way to believe!"
Any memory of Tara she spirits madly for.
"There's still time, close your eyes."
To her only haven in the storm.
"Only love will guide you home."
Sam screams as she reaches out for the nearest one.
"Tear down the walls and free your soul."
Suddenly she is grabbed from behind by Ghostface and is instantaneously falling into more darkness.
"Til we crash, we're forever spiralling down."
Countless memories pass them by.
"Down!"
Unseen eyes stare into frantic brown pupils.
"Down!"
Sam breaks free and lands separately, picking herself up again.
"Down!"
In every memory Sam sees Ghostface looming in the background
"Hello, hello, it's only me."
Ever present.
"Infecting everything you love. . ."
Your fall into the darkness was always destined.
"Somewhere beyond the pain, there must be a way to believe."
Sam runs as Ghostface reappears from all angles, trying to grab her.
"Hello, hello, remember me?"
Sam spies a white outlined doorway ahead of her.
"I'm everything you can't control!"
As she nears it, it glows.
"Somewhere beyond the pain, there must be a way to learn forgiveness."
Never Samantha!
"Hello, hello, remember me?"
Sam ducks wildly as Ghostface becomes more aggressive.
"I'm everything you can't control!"
Sam sprints with all her remaining strength towards the open doorway.
"Somewhere beyond the pain, there must be a way to believe we can break through!"
Sam reaches the doorway, she glances back, seeing Ghostface reaching out for her.
She quickly falls backwards through the doorway.
"Remember who you really are . . ."
Ghostface leaps forward to grab her, but Sam falls out of their reach and disappears.
"Do what you want, you want!"
(The song ends).
The surrounding darkness suddenly gave way to engulfing white light as Sam fell. Where to she didn't know at first, but soon she felt a clearing sensation rush through her mind.
Like she was waking up, rousing from a deep slumber as the fog slowly dispended from her mind.
She was coming back!
Back to Tara
Back to Mindy and Chad.
Back to Danny.
Fuck, oh God, Danny!
She had completely forgotten; he must be dead worried that she hadn't turned tonight with all the brutal chaos that had been going on!
Regardless of wherever her 'connection' with him went, Sam knew she had to reassure him that she was alright.
But Tara came first. . .always.
As the haziness of sleep departed her mind and her bodily senses switched on, Sam felt a sensation of relief pass through her, suppressing her fears.
She was still alive!
Was this the third or fourth time that she had nearly died in her twenty six years on this earth?
It didn't matter, she was still here.
Tara. . .
God, she could only pray that Tara was still with her!
As long as Tara lived, Sam would take every opportunity that came for her to make amends for abandoning Tara, never to leave her side and always be her guardian.
Her big caring sister protecting her sun like old times.
"You say that you will only lose yourself if you lose Tara, right Samantha?"
The ominous voice whipped around her like a fell wind, but Sam ignored it, refusing to listen anymore or answer.
"For what would you truly be without Tara Samantha?"
Sam felt the voice falling away, becoming more distant as her mind returned to the waking world. She could feel her eyes start to open, as bright light flooded into her brown aching pupils.
"Easy answer. . .mine!"
As the voice finally died down into nothing Sam felt a new overwhelming sensation.
Pain, a constant hard stabbing sensation rippling up the entire length of her body.
She fully awoke with an agonising scream. . .
Sometimes the deepest dangers lurk within ourselves compared to the monsters outside. We acknowledge our inner demons, but we don't let them rule us.
Sam is finally out of the nightmare, scarred but free. . .for now.
The horror show is still ongoing and it isn't going to stop!
Hope that the song worked out ok with the stage directions.
The next chapter will be uploaded when is ready. We'll be switching over to Tara for a while, as she has her own demons to confront and just like Sam's experience it will be painful!
For any readers wondering when will the FNAF elements turn up, they will, but this story is a slow burner and I want to incorporate both franchises in the most cohesive way possible.
Thank you for reading and please do review, I deeply appreciate your thoughts.