@finalgirlsource final girl appreciation week day 7, favorite final girl: SAM CARPENTER

BWS MINDTOBER 2024 ▸ Day VIII

Prompt: PRIVILEGE

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October 8 | "touch."

“You’re Billy Loomis’s daughter.”

I used to hate that. I hated his name off my tongue and off the tongue of others when it was spoken towards me. 

Billy Loomis was someone I hated seeing, hated claiming, and hated being related to. So many people have dirtied my name with what he did. And I believed them.

The funny thing is that all he ever did when he came to me in visions was help me. Or, at least, he tried to. I didn’t want his help, because I didn’t want him in my life.

But seeing visions of my father, having him guide me, and even having the ability to act on his example wasn’t a curse. It was a privilege. There are millions of fatherless individuals out there that would give anything to see their dead, estranged, or absent fathers.

I’m lucky. At least I have a father that wants to be in my life. He actually wants something to do with me. He didn’t ask for me, but he was there when I needed him even though I’d refuse him.

It’s been a long time that I’ve spent thinking. I can’t say that I love him or that I wish he were around and not dead. But I can say that—like my mother—he is a part of me, and whether I like it or not, I am like him.

I’m a lot like him. It’s in my eyes and the way I walk. It’s in my thoughts and the way I talk. We reflect each other so much that it’s purely ironic that I only see him in reflective surfaces.

I heard that conversation in a movie recently. The Glass Castle. It was said between Rex Walls and Jeanette Walls, father and daughter. 

It hit deep—so deep that I looked in the mirror and saw my father staring back at me. He wasn’t over my shoulder, he was overlaid over me. 

My father is Billy Loomis. It is my privilege to call him my father.

I am a hell of a lot like him. 

And I’m glad.

p.s. honorable mention @redwolfstabs - some team loomis vibes for you 🩶

BWS MINDTOBER 2024 ▸ Day III

Prompt: Circle

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October 3rd | "some things change, and some things won't."

“Where’s your mother in all this?”

My mother gets a bad rep. She’s an alcoholic. She’s impulsive. She’s selfish and can be extremely cruel. But she is my mother. And no matter what she’s done, I still love her.

She’s done some hurtful things in the past, some of which I can’t speak of. She’s picked work and her boyfriends over her own daughters. And had it not been for me doing what I wasn’t supposed to at 13, maybe she’d be very different. Maybe she’d be just how she was when Tara and I were convinced we were biological sisters through and through, and I was a gem in her eyes. 

She wasn’t always “bad.” She was a great mother. I remember times when she was the only person I wanted around. That was before Tara was born. And now, we rarely speak.

But there is one thing that she taught me better than anyone. 

I was 5 years old, and like every other kid, when I learned something new, I wanted to learn it on the first try. Like every other kid, when there was a process to follow, I wanted to get through it easily, because challenges were the most annoying thing in the world.

In tears, I stormed into the kitchen, where Mom was making dinner and threw down my untied shoes, which I had originally thrown across my room because I still couldn’t tie them myself after what had felt like forever. 

I shouted at her, “I can’t do it! I want you to do it!”

It was annoying and stupid. Why should I waste so much time trying to do something I can’t get right, if my mom could easily just tie my shoes for me?

Mom laughed and shook her head, “You can do it, Sam. It just takes practice.”

I didn’t want to practice, I wanted to do it and be done with it, but I could barely even get past the first step. So, that’s what I told her, “No! I can’t do it! I don’t know how!” Even though she and Dad had shown me over, and over, and over again.

She nodded, “Yes, you do. Daddy and I showed you many times.” Then, she left the counter to pick up my thrown shoes and knelt down in front of me. “Come on.”

I felt so angry at the time, but despite my whining, I let her put one of my shoes on and I watched her tie it as she explained how to do it for the 100th time. I crossed my arms in defiance, when she expected me to try again.

Then, she told me to go sit at the kitchen table. One shoe on and the other off, I did as she said and sat at the table. She met me there and put a piece of paper in front of me. 

“Here,” she pulled out a drawing compass and placed a pencil in its designated divot. She handed it to me. “I want you to draw a circle using this.” As I took it, she guided my little hand with her own, placing the tip of the compass on the paper. “Hold this here with your other hand, and move the pencil in a circle.”

I didn’t understand what drawing a circle had to do with tying my shoes, but I did it anyway. I remember having to restart a couple times because drawing compasses weren’t exactly equipped for 5-year-old hands. 

“Good!” Mom praised, when I finished, “Look how good that is! A perfect circle.”

Seeing her smile at what I had just done made me smile too. She was right, it was a perfect circle, just like I’d see in the cartoons and on patterned fabrics. It blew my mind at the time, and in the moment, I was ready to jump down from my chair and slap it on the fridge for Dad to admire when he got home.

But Mom had different plans and took the compass, removed the pencil, set the compass aside, and gave me the pencil again. “Now, draw another one.”

“Without that?” I pointed to the discarded tool.

She nodded, “Mm-hmm. Just do your best.”

And so, I did. I drew another circle, free-handed, except it wasn’t smooth or rightfully curved at all. Not like the other one. This new one was rocky and awkward, leaning to the side a little to almost give off an oval appearance. I frowned at it, but Mom praised me again.

“Very good, Sam! You drew another circle!”

I just sat back in the chair, disappointed that I had just messed up my masterpiece with that second addition. “It’s no good,” I sulked.

“Is it a circle?” she asked.

I nodded.

“Then, it doesn’t matter what it looks like,” she assured, “You knew what to do. You knew how to draw a circle, and you did it. So what if it’s not exactly how I showed you with the compass? You still drew it all by yourself, without my help!”

I looked up at her, a little confused by the point she was making. I didn’t have to be confused for long though. 

“Samantha, there are always going to be things that you are going to have to learn how to do. It’s okay to not get it perfect on the first try, or the second, or the third one. Even the millionth, zillionth one,” she’d used such terminology to put my young mind into perspective. “All you have to do is try again. If you do that, you can do anything you want. All by yourself.” 

It was still fuzzy to my ability to understand, but that didn’t stop her from encouraging me.

“Just think, by the time Tara gets to be your age, you’ll be a big girl. You’ll be 8 years-old, and you’ll be able to tie your shoes without even thinking about it. Then, you can teach her.”

Tara was only a year at the time. She had so many things to experience, and I would be there to help her learn through them all. It sounded like a good idea, and it was enough for me. So, I nodded, “Yeah! And then I’ll be able to draw the best circle ever in the world, ever! I can teach her that too!”

Mom nodded and kissed my head, “You can teach her anything, Sam. Anything and everything you want.”

It’s been 20 years since then. Yes, I can tie my own shoes now; I can even do it blindfolded if you asked me to. Still can’t draw a perfect circle without help, but that’s fine with me.

Because I’ve learned that there’s a perfect way to everything… and then there’s my way.

I find it interesting that you used Sam's younger self to write this one and honestly super clever. Because now you're getting insight to why Sam is the way she is and I'm living for it.

BWS MINDTOBER 2024 ▸ Day II

Prompt: DOPPELGÄNGER

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October 2nd | "why it didn't work, well, it's perfectly clear."

“I’m not gonna let what happened to us for three days define the rest of my life.”

They say letting go of the past is the first step of healing from trauma. I’m not sure about that. It’s easy to accept what happened, easy to see that you’re not the same person before it happened, and painfully easy to recognize how fucked up it left you. 

Things happen. 

What happened, why it happened, and how it happened aren’t what hurts the most. It’s not getting over what happened to me. It’s not accepting it or letting go of it. 

What the fuck happens when everything is said and done, but it’s me that I can’t forget?

How do you let go of yourself without losing control? As if there was any control to begin with. If you were never in control but thought you were, how can you tell the difference? Learning? Learning means nothing if you don’t understand the concept and practice it. How do you practice without still lacking and being taken-a-fool of again. And again. And again.

“Practice makes perfect,” right? I was so gullible as a kid for believing that kind of crap.

People don’t practice. They make mistakes, and then they get better. Practice is just a term used to soften the reality of someone’s inability to do something.

If a cycle is what’s necessary to breakaway from the toxic memories imprinted on my already-fucked-up mind, then I’ll gladly decline. I appreciate the effort, but there’s no point in trying to fix something that was never good to begin with.

Because the fear and the paranoia that comes with what everyone calls “trauma” isn’t found on the streets of Woodsboro, where I once walked. It isn’t found in the ring of a cell phone or in between the lines of answering the phone. It isn’t in the shine of a blade or the coagulation of blood from a wound.

It’s in the windows I pass, the shadows I lead, and the mirrors I avoid. There’s no one else that can hurt me more than the person that’s tied to me for eternity. It’s a lock and key fit. Without me, that person can’t exist. 

She looks just like me, talks just like me, walks just like me. Everywhere I go, she’s the only one that follows. I could walk into No Man’s Land, to the end of the Earth, through the depths of Hell—she’ll be there. She’ll always be there. 

She’s a wolf in sheep’s clothing.

There are sheep and there are wolves, and when the wolf comes prowling at the door, only one can stop him. Call on the sheepdog. 

She is the Wolf. I am the Sheepdog.

But every dog descended from wolves—a doppelgӓnger, tamed by the dometic trends of society. There is no escaping the restlessness in her wild heart. It’s shown in her eyes, the windows into the soul. And those same eyes that look back at me in the mirror.

We’re the same. So, so long as I live, she will never die…

… And neither will the wolves.

BWS MINDTOBER 2024 ▸ Day I

Prompt: ME

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October 1st | "i can't help that God made me this way."

“He wants to punish me. Me.”

I’ve heard it all. That’s all everyone talked about since 2022. I’m responsible. I killed them. I framed them. I’m a monster. I’m a murderer. I’m a villain. I’m unstable. I’m dangerous. I’m Ghostface.

They got one thing right. I am Samantha Carpenter. I go by Sam, because when I hear Samantha, I’m reminded of the person who tore my family apart. The person responsible for so much hurt and pain. 

I’m the reason Dad left. I’m the reason Mom drank. I’m the reason Tara cried. I’m the reason the entire town of Woodsboro stayed in darkness.

Do I regret it?

But regret doesn’t fix anything. 

I’ve lived a life of many ups and downs, and as much as I would do anything to change one thing that would make my life perfect, in a comparing perspective, that isn’t an option.

I am Billy Loomis’s daughter. I am not a murderer.

I am Christina Carpenter’s daughter. I am not a mistake.

I am Tara Carpenter’s older sister. I am not a predator.

Half of me comes from the Loomis bloodline, and the other half is from the Carpenter bloodline. I have my father’s eyes and my mother’s heart. I am a hybrid of two reckless, misunderstood people.

Tara told me there’s something kind of fantastic about that. So, maybe there is. I haven’t decided yet.

Punishing me for what I’ve “done” is misleading, actually. Think about it. How could anyone punish me more than my bloodline already has? A murderer for a biological father and an alcoholic for a biological mother.

I’ve been fucked from the start.

That’s me. I am Samantha Carpenter.

and so it begins...

🐺 🔪🙌🏼LETS GO BABY!!!!!!!🙌🏼🔪🐺

Scream 6| 4 Core as tweets🖤

QUESTION FOR WRITERS // i need help

i've been having a difficult time staying consistent with fics that i need to keep up with. i made myself a queue of works i wanted to focus on before i wrote anything "for myself" because some of the fics are ones with multiple chapters that haven't been updated in months (one, over a year). i feel bad because i know some people are/have been waiting on updates for the fic(s), but i don't want to bullshit my stories either just to get them out quicker. i find that i get the inspiration for a couple days, but then my mind wanders to other things i want to write.

i don't know which i should do...

you won't hurt my feelings!

"see something you like?" - S.C.

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you didn't know what to do or say when someone as beautiful, stunning, and unbelievably charming as Sam Carpenter sat down next to you.

but you didn't have to say or do anything at all.

she handed you a beer, then she told you,

you look like you love me | ella langley feat. riley green

i've seen quite a bit of smut/nsfw sam carpenter x reader fics recently. i'm not at liberty to name exact ones, but what i can say is that this chorus really hits from her perspective on what i have seen.

COMING SOON: BWS MINDTOBER

i'm planning on doing another challenge this year for the month of october. i want to do a MINDTOBER theme, except instead of art, it's writing of course. however, instead of writing 3rd person, i want to write each day like a dairy entry from the perspective of a character. so, for each prompt, i'll write from the character's perspective on what that prompt, word, etc. means to or represents in regard to them

i'm not sure if i want to do a variety of characters, one fandom (like last year), or even one character for every day, so i'd like some help! if you can, please provide your opinion on who i should focus on for this challenge:

NSFW Alphabet | Sam Carpenter x Reader

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a = aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

b = body part (favorite body part of theirs and of their partner’s)

c = cum (anything to do with cum basically)

d = dirty secret (a dirty secret of theirs)

e = experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

f = favorite position

g = goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

h = hair (how groomed are they?)

i = intimacy (how romantic are they in the moment?)

j = jack off (masturbation)

k = kink (one or more of their kinks)

l = location (favorite places to do it)

m = motivation (what turns them on?)

n = no (something they won’t do; a turn off)

o = oral (preference in giving, receiving, skill, etc.)

p = pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

q = quickie (their opinions on quickies; how often, etc.)

r = risk (are they down to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

s = stamina (how many rounds can they go? how long can they last?)

t = toys (do they own toys? do they use them? If so, on their partners or themselves?)

u = unfair (how much do they like to tease?)

v = volume (how loud are they? what sounds do they make? etc.)

w = wild card (a random headcanon of them)

x = x-ray (what’s going on under their clothes?)

y = yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

z = zzz (how quickly do they fall asleep afterwards?)

all my best!

- parker (HOUDINICARPENTER / BWS) 🖤

FUCK YEAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!!!!!!

Current brain rot, and why?

I’ll go first!

Dan Stevens, Abigail (movie), and Doctor Who

Dan Stevens cause I’ve started crushing on him after watching Abigail for the first time. Abigail cause silly vampire movie, and lastly Doctor Who. Doctor Who is just a big part of who I am today. Also it’s been apart of my life since I was about eight or nine. So ofc it’s very near and dear to my heart(s) 🩵💙

No pressure tags ofc: @imwithyoutiltheendofthelinebucky @endofradio @lokidoki9 @iamthejam @tommyshelbysangel @blaineskindagay @reclaimedbythesea 🙂

Current brain rot, and why?

Currently I’m hyperfixated on Dan Stevens, Abigail (2024), and House MD.

Dan Stevens: I just love how wonderfully weird that guy is and he’s such a great actor. I find myself relating to him AND also a lot of the characters he plays. He’s so fucking funny and honestly an inspiration of mine. Not to mention he’s gender transition goals for me LMAO.

Abigail (2024): SUCH a great movie. I’ve genuinely never been this hyperfixated on a movie until I watched Abigail. It’s reignited my love for film and everything about it, including acting. I think it’s safe to say that movie changed my life LMAO, because it really did! One of my favorite movies of all time.

House MD: I’m only on the first season still, but I’m absolutely hooked. I love the characters, and can find myself relating to House in some ways. Plus, I’m also a medical science enthusiast and I’ve actually learned some things from watching this show, so that’s a plus!

tags: @atcarpenter @blackwolfstabs @maggotssmichael and anyone else who wants to join!

hey thanks for tagging me!!

current brainrot >>>

tagging: @michiganstray @fantasylandbitch @alphawolfstabs @evildarliing & anyone else who wants to join!

p.s. sorry it took me so long to do this!!

Thanks for tagging me Parker!!!

My current brain rot ⤵️

Scream Series : Because I have a bunch of ideas lined up like putting the characters in different time periods and genres of stories like a Western, and Fantasy. There are different themes that I would like to explore for our Scream series and their casts.

Music : Because it helps when I'm writing. I like making playlists for whatever I'm writing for of course if I feel like I need to and I love making art for my playlists when I can.

Sims 4: I have a couple named Elliot who was once just human but now a werewolf and her werewolf wife named Rory who turned her into one. They also have two boys and a girl named Arturo, Kinely, and Sam. The boys have the wolf gene and Sam doesn't but I might have her turn later. I've also been making a few homes in the game too for the family in Moonwood Mill and I started playing with a farm house from the equestrian expansion pack. (I can show you guys images in another post if you guys want to see them but they're not finished yet.)

@blackwolfstabs : Listen I know my girl is not a medium to be consumed or a thing. Parker is a person and she's really sweet. Sometimes I can't help but talk about her to my family it's not all of the time but when I'm talking to a family member and they say something my brain goes "Parker said something similar to me" or I'll smile and not say anything to whoever I'm talking to even though I'm reminded of my friend. I must clarify that I'm not hyperfixated on this woman, however, I just love and appreciate her a lot.

The Wolves of Woodsboro - Chapter III

MEMORY

“So, what’s up?” Mindy turned the chair she pulled over to the carpet towards her to sit backwards on it, folding her arms on top of the back to lean her chin on them. She gave a small glance over to Tara, thinking—as Sam’s sister—she might have some idea of what was going on, but she just had the same dark look in her eyes that she had the night before. It was only a tad softer.

With her being the only one in a chair, the rest of the household took a seat on the sectional sofa, starting with Chad, then Tara, then Danny, and lastly Sam, in counterclockwise order. The oldest female of the group had called for everyone to gather because there was something she needed to get off of her chest. And judging by the heavy tension between her and her sister that had loomed under that roof for the majority of the morning, it was more-or-less a confession.

Sam couldn’t stop the anxious shaking of her leg as her thoughts raced with what she needed to say. Her heart was pounding, and she felt her stomach churn, like it was going to let its contents climb up her esophagus and prevent her from expelling the truth. She hadn’t eaten anything, yet the nauseous feeling continued to tease her. She’d only gotten 4 hours of sleep, lying awake until 4:00 AM staring at the ceiling in figuring out what she needed to share and what she needed to keep to herself. She had talked with Tara earlier, and while that seemed to help a little bit, telling everyone was the most nerve-wracking.

“Sam,” Tara’s cold tone snapped her out of her indecisive sorting and had her looking up from her scratching her own nails. 

Her sibling glanced around to signal that they were all waiting on her to start talking. “Well?” 

She dropped her head again to compose herself with a deep breath before returning her attention to the rest. “I know I haven’t been the same, since New York,” she began, “I’ve been aggressive. I’ve been uncooperative. I’ve been distant and secretive…” She only made eye contact with Mindy, Chad, and Tara, but she could feel Danny’s gaze burning her side profile with every passing moment. “And I could make a million excuses for that, but none of them can justify the way I’ve been treating you all.” But the truth for her behavior was the one thing she swore she wouldn’t tell. She couldn’t tell. Because she couldn’t control it. Because she couldn’t understand it. Because she was scared of it. She still didn’t trust herself enough, because if she lost the control she already didn’t have and ended up hurting one of them, she’d never forgive herself.

She’d be just like him …

“It’s just…” She struggled with putting the words where they were supposed to go. So much had happened since and keeping track of it was like chasing stars. She bit her lip as she gave an uncomfortable shrug, frustrated that this was so hard to do. Frustrated for having this happen. And frustrated for putting the ones she loved to death in the middle of it all.

But they needed to know…

“It’s okay, Sam,” Danny consoled by placing a soft hand on her back. He had been watching her body language the whole morning, and it wasn’t just anxiety she was dealing with. It was almost like she couldn’t stand to be in her own skin. 

Across the ottoman, Chad took his side with a reassuring nod. “Yeah, take your time.” 

Meanwhile, Tara just stared, and Mindy’s brow was hard in trying to figure out what was going on before it was said.

Figures… in their collar-free pack, it was the females who seemed to be more intent to know what was going on right away. And as much as the oldest female identified with that, she found it harder to let go of the truth with the younger two staring at her. “I’ve been having a really hard time…” She had to pause again, her brow creasing simultaneously as the countless hurdles she’d dealt with since the Ghostface killings in New York hounded her. “... Accepting myself, since I put on that mask.” 

Her eyes were black as she looked up. They all knew what she meant, especially Tara, who had seen her cladded in black and insane with the urge to finish off Wayne Kirsch in a blood bath.

“You’re not him , Sam.” Tara immediately brought herself forth, her orbs just as dark. “You did what you had to do, that’s all,” she insisted.

The she-wolf leaned forward to rest her elbows on her knees. “I’ve been seeing him… after we moved out here, and I haven’t been the same since.” Little did they know, she didn’t mean what they thought she meant. She hadn’t been the same, because she wasn’t the same. A wolf’s blood coursed through her veins and drove her day-to-day life. 

Before she could go on, Mindy interjected. “What do you mean by that?” She straightened from her leaning position, not taking her eyes off of the speaker as she met her gaze.

And suddenly the room felt like the calm before the storm. Whether it be tension or suspense, it could cut the air with a knife. Samantha felt her anxiety be traded by a spark of aggression at the way she was being studied. It made her feel threatened. And when a wolf was threatened, it attacked.

She felt the warning signs come on. A hot rush, a guttural twinge that rose into her throat, a tingling sensation that ran down her neck to her tailbone. The only other thing left was Billy’s voice.

But she knew she couldn’t lose it. Not now. She wasn’t in any danger, nor was she being threatened. They couldn’t know about the wolf yet. No one could know yet… 

She swallowed back the low growl rising up her throat, holding it in place while she spoke with a tight jaw. “I mean, I don’t feel like the same person I was…”

But this leading-up explanation was taking too long for Tara’s liking, and she expressed that impatience without hesitation. “It’s just because you’ve accepted Billy as your father.” She gained her older sister’s attention and continued to explain, “I mean, you put on his mask and killed someone wearing it, so of course, you’re gonna feel different after doing that.” This wasn’t a hard concept. In fact, it was natural, and she accepted that, but it didn’t serve the justification for her secretive and isolating behavior.

Over from the chair, Mindy summed everything up into a simple sentence, “That’s the closest to Billy you’ve ever been…”

The youngest member jumped right back in, holding her hand out towards the clarifier for emphasis, “Exactly. Which means that identifying yourself as his daughter while wearing his mask and killing—which is what he did in it—is messing with your head.” Her demeanor softened a tad, when she looked back up from going through the motions on the ottoman’s surface in front of her. “But it doesn’t mean you’re like him,” she shook her head.

“No, but I’ve opened a door I can’t shut now,” Sam returned, straightening up from her leaning. When she received concerned expressions that encouraged her to go on, she did, taking a deep breath to force her shoulders to relax in reflection to the wrangled composure in her voice. “Ethan’s alive,” she revealed, “And he’s looking for us. For me . He still wants his revenge, and now that he’s the only one left, he wants you too.” She had finished her sentence by looking at her sibling, who returned the signature round-eyed look that could be taken three ways: disbelief, anger, or daunt.

Before anything else could be said, Chad interjected, immediately defensive when it came to the threat of the small family they’d made, “Hold up, hold up. How do you know this?”

She met his eyes, “Because Billy told me.” She saw his brow crease slightly. “He told me a while ago, and I didn’t say anything, because I didn’t want to believe it was true, but it is and now, we have to make sure we’re ready whenever he may show up.”

“Wait, but a Ghostface killer always makes an initial kill to set off the spree. There hasn’t been anything on the news of a killing for weeks,” Mindy countered, giving a small glance towards the inactive television. “Even so, they haven’t been considered murders .”

The wolf-shifter recalled what she had been told about the lone killer stalking the streets. “That’s because he’s not taking a stapled approach.” Just the thought of recollecting the countless times she had been warned and taunted by her father’s informing had her head pulsing, pushing her lack of sleep more heavily on her responsibility to explain what she had kept from them. “There’s no telling when or where he’s going to make his move, which means we all need to be open with each other.” However, she remained as alert as she could, because if she couldn’t convince them to trust her now… “We need to know where each other is, when they’re leaving, who they’re with, and when they plan to be back home.”

… Then they never would.

“That includes you ,” Tara made sure to put in that vital detail, the conviction in her voice a vocal cord shy of being challenging. Sam’s tired gaze met her own, and she brought forth her argument. “You keep running off at night. Are you going to explain that to us?” There were still truths that her sister was withholding, and that bothered her. She understood that everyone had things they had a right to keep to themselves, but it was affecting relationships that were supposed to be mended after being torn apart.

The rest of the attendees seemed to side with Tara as they looked at the older Carpenter, expecting an explanation now that there was another killer roaming about. And she did make a good point: if there were going to be ‘ rules ’ then everybody had to abide by them.

But this just made Samantha shift in her place, eying her sister with uncertainty. Her hands rubbed against each other as her mind raced with an excuse. Any excuse. She knew if she gave them a distinct location, someone would try to find her there. And what they would find would be even more unforgiving than her recent behavior. So, she thought fast and came up with the only thing that had been on repeat in her head—what made her hold this discussion. “I told you that I’ve been seeing my father, right?” She had to force herself not to look away from them. “He’s not in my head anymore. He’s real . He’s real to me, at least.” But it was hard, especially with the anticipation of having to play her part in their set expectations. “Last night, I met him half-way across the city.” But she also had to do what was in their best interest, and as far as she was concerned, they didn’t need to know about her other half right now. “I’ve been meeting him at night. That’s where I go.” Her mouth went dry, and she had to force herself to swallow and hold the clear of her throat.

The room was quiet for a small moment, as if the three animated dots that showed up on a pending text message were visible in the middle of the living room. It was here that Sam felt Danny’s gaze leave her as he dropped it, and suddenly, she wished she would’ve said something else. She couldn’t blame any of them. This was a hard pill to swallow even for her, who had been trying to understand it daily. But to have it pushed on someone all at once? Fuck, she could’ve made a better move.

But then the deception would only drag on…

“Whoa…” Mindy was the first to break the silence as she drew back from her leaning against the chair’s back. “That’s… weird. I mean, I guess it’s pretty normal for you, but like weird in the sense that—”

“Wait, wait, wait,” Chad cut her off as he wiped the slate clean to get a better understanding. “So, you’re saying Billy Loomis, your father, is alive ?”

The she-wolf shook her head, “No, he’s not alive. Just able to manifest into a physical being… to me.” After all this time, she realized how crazy that sounded. And if they didn’t know her like they did, they’d probably vote her into a psychiatric ward with 10 different types of medication.

Thank God, they knew her.

Meanwhile, Tara had been staring at the floor, her breathing softly audible with her asthma’s effects on her concentration’s depth. But she wasn’t shy to push for more. “Okay, so… you leave us without telling us where you’re going to meet up with your ‘ manifested ’ spiritual father almost every night, stay out for hours without a word to any one, come home at 3 AM, and haven’t bothered to share any of it with us for how many months now? 6?” There was no way in hell that it was that simple. Was it? There was a sense of submissive energy that hit her as Sam blinked at her. It was different, like she was suddenly another person that only looked like Sam. “Look, I’m not trying to fight, but I just don’t understand why you felt like you had to keep all of this a secret. You're shutting us out, not bothering to even try in therapy, and refusing to eat is all because of that ?” She then shook her head, “I’m not buying it, Sam.”

“Tara.” Chad placed a gentle hand on her thigh. He knew she was a ticking time-bomb at this point, but he also knew Sam was trusting them for the first time in 6 months to be able to open up like she had. One wrong move could destroy that quicker than the younger could take it back.

But Samantha kept her composure. “He’s been training me,” she answered. “Training me for Ethan’s attack. That’s why I’m out so late.”

Tara’s chin dipped, “What kind of training?”

“Doesn’t matter,” was the quick, yet convicted reply, “What matters is that I’ve told you what you need to know. Ethan is alive, and he’s coming.” Even though she was much calmer than she had felt when they had all first sat down, the canine could feel her heartbeat in her chest. As she looked into her little sister’s eyes, she was right back in that hospital room, telling her that Billy was her father and that she was out of her mind trying to get away from it. 

The look on her face. The tears in her eyes. The slight tilt of her head that showed she couldn’t believe what she was being told. It made the one to blame feel sick to her stomach. Even after all this time. “Everything else are personal problems that I need to figure out on my own,” she finished.

The younger Carpenter blinked. “So, you’re asking us to believe you, when you say you’ve got everything under control?” She didn’t, because if she did, they wouldn’t be having this conversation. 

“I’m asking you to trust me,” the other corrected. She truly did feel guilty for behaving the way she had been, but she couldn’t help it. She didn’t know how to. She had no clue what she was doing, having to rely on her dead father to guide her down a road that held the secrets to an animal with a mind of its own. One that she had to learn how to control and live within. There was a reason why wolves weren’t kept as pets. It was because they were wild, unruly, and unpredictable. “Please? I’m gonna do my best to keep you all out of the dark, but there are some things that I just can’t talk about right now…” She didn’t want to beg, but she would if she had to.

But luckily, the rest didn’t seem to push her word any farther, starting with Mindy. “Alright. I respect that,” she agreed to leave it be.

Next, her twin brother nodded, “We got you, Sam. Let’s just take one thing at a time. Core Four always thrives” That optimistic charm of his never failed to shine even in the most uncertain of times.

The mentioning of the nickname actually made a small smile pull at Sam’s lips as her eyes jumped back to his sister, who corrected:

“Core Four plus more.” She gestured towards the considered outsider next to Sam.

But the acknowledging of Danny just made Tara realize that he had been the only one not to say anything since her sibling had confessed what she had. She immediately recalled their conversation last night. Either one of two things were happening… He knew this the whole time and had lied to her, and that’s why he had nothing to say. Or he didn’t know any of it and didn’t know what to say. But she was going to put him on the spot right then and there. “Danny, you haven’t said a word.” If they were going to be a team, they all needed to communicate something to know that they were all on the same page. Her eyes raised to find his blue ones meeting hers like the ocean under overcast skies. Her voice was the most even-tempered it had been the whole morning as she spoke to him, “I know that she’s your girlfriend and that you respect her privacy, but– I-I mean, I get it, and that’s fine, but… do you have anything to say about everything she just told us?”

Brackett still maintained that cool essence that he had last night. He was concerned but not bothered. And he was honest about it. “I trust her,” he nodded to the lone wolf on his right. He may not have known all the reasons for why she did what she did, and still may not know, but he knew he was there every time she came home to make sure she was okay, and that was all he needed to know. “Every night she leaves, I’ll wait for her to come home. As long as she makes it through that door—it doesn’t matter what time of night it is—and she’s okay, I’m okay.”

Carpenter couldn’t argue with that. She agreed. As frustrated as she had been with her older sister, her main concern was her safety. She just wanted her to be okay. And because of that, she decided enough was enough for one day and nodded. “Okay.”

It had been 3 days since then. It wasn’t the smoothest of conversations, but it was enough to have the strong tension between the Carpenter sisters cease, and the rest communicate more frequently. Tara, Chad, and Mindy had altered their school schedules to have most of their classes online and only one in-person: a math class, which they all had together so they could watch each other’s backs. Sam had gone back to the forest the night she told everyone about Ethan, but Billy hadn’t shown up. In fact, she hadn’t heard from him since the night he first appeared. So she hadn’t bothered to retreat halfway across the city.

But the text messages from what seemed to be from Richie persisted and circled her mind like vultures on roadkill. From the first one at 2 AM, the next came the minute Sam excused herself from her confession. 

‘I’d have thought by now you would’ve been smart enough to delete my contact… guess some things never change.’

And then one more that morning. Early that morning.

‘What’s with the silent treatment, Sammy Girl? Cat got your tongue?’

Lit through the darkness of the bedroom at 1:58 AM, the text made Sam become wide awake in the late hours. This wasn’t Ethan using his brother’s phone or cloning it…

This really was Richie. She knew that because he was the only one that knew about that little pet name, considering he was the only one to have ever used it. It was the name he had used whenever he felt frisky or teased her, and it drove her crazy. He drove her crazy at that time. And she cursed herself for it.

It had been on her mind all day, but now that she knew it had to be him on the other end of the phone, she needed answers for how that could be. Because, if her DNA could mutate by a simple awakening to transform herself into a wolf, there was no telling what secrets of the world were still a mystery, to the living or the dead.

But only Billy could give her that answer, and he hadn’t been prowling at her door for 3 days now. That’s what frustrated her the most, which simultaneously made her inner wolf grow anxious with the need for attention. She hadn’t given it authority, since she had seen him last.

The young wolf stared into the pot of boiling water as she stirred the pasta beneath its surface. With neglection of her other side, came the obnoxious advanced senses to groom her every second of the day. The smell of salt, wheat, and oil from the pasta mixed with the yeast of the dinner rolls in the oven had her uncared-for appetite growing. She had only recently begun to eat on a normal schedule again and appropriate amounts at that.

From the living room, she could hear Mindy reading her textbook softly to herself, underlying the soft music coming from the speaker on the bar’s counter and the clicking of the mouse as Danny navigated through the computer. On the other side of the house, Chad’s monologuing while he played the X-box registered in her ear drums, before Tara’s small giggle came from the sofa right outside the kitchen’s first entry point—probably in response to the video she was watching on her phone, which Sam could also hear the audio of. Not clearly, but it was still detectable.

But everything was undermined when the timer on the oven went off, sending a 3-second beep to echo throughout the house. And Tara answered the call as she came in.

Only a passing glance had her initiating a form of conversation as she slipped on an oven mitt. “I’m glad you’re eating again.”

Sam barely looked over, before replying, “I figure I need to keep my energy up as much as I can.” She set the spoon down on the utensil rest next to the stove.

“And your strength,” she added. As she took the rolls out of the oven, she changed the subject, her tone lightning to a more casual vibe, “I could eat all of these by myself, not even gonna lie.” She set the pan down on the counter and let the hot aroma flood her senses. Her eyes rolled in pleasure as she glanced over to her sister. “Do you smell that? It’s like pure ecstasy.” She shook her head as she tossed the hot glove aside.

Meanwhile, the older female nodded and backed away from the stove to lean against the counter. 

“I could live off of carbs,” Tara went on.

This made her chuckle, “Yeah, I bet. You decided to have pasta and bread in the same meal.” She crossed her arms, settling the small of her back into the granite’s edge.

“They’re so good though,” was the anticipated reply. The younger sister found herself feeling a sense of normalcy at seeing the small smile pulling at her sibling’s lips. It made her express a similar one as she turned the oven off. But when she looked back at her, she saw her face fall again to stare at the floor.

Something was biting at her, and it wasn’t the big picture of Ethan.

“What’s on your mind, Sam?” she asked, moving herself closer to the she-wolf.

Samantha sighed. She hesitated to bring up the text messages again. She had only told Tara about them for the sake of flaring tempers and differences in opinions. However, she was trying to rebuild trust with her, so she figured she might as well. “You know how I’ve been getting those text messages?” She made sure to keep her voice down to avoid being heard by anyone else. “From… Richie’s number?”

The other nodded, “Yeah.”

She retrieved her phone out of her back pocket. “I got another one at 1:58 last night.” She pulled up the chat and held it out towards her. Her blood rushed beneath her skin, and her heart pounded against her ribcage as it was read by someone else. She watched Tara’s chocolate orbs trace the words and her brow creased in a mixture of offense and a what-the-fuck? expression, which made the heat inside of her come off stronger. She knew it was because of the pet-name and hearing it in his voice embarrassed her every time she thought about it.

“What the fuck?” the adolescent voiced her thoughts as she lifted her gaze to show she was done reading. “Is that even—”

“Yes, it’s him ,” she cut her off and slipped her phone back into her pocket. “Richie’s the only one who ever called me that,” she then mumbled, crossing her arms to avoid eye contact.

As much as hearing that made her uncomfortable, Tara pushed it aside and went for the bigger picture. “Did you tell Billy about them?”

Sam shook her head. “Haven’t been able to. I haven’t heard from or seen him for 3 days now…” She sighed in frustration with a semi-bitter tongue, “Just my luck, the one time I actually wouldn’t mind his help, he disappears.”

The younger kept quiet for a moment, thinking about what she just said. “Maybe that’s it…” She received her sister’s attention out of her peripheral vision, which made her meet her halfway. “Maybe he wants you to ask him for help. Have you ever told him that you needed it?”

“No. But what would that have to do with it?”

“It’s a trust thing,” she replied, “As your father, he wants you to come to him. He wants you to rely on him. And in order for him to feel that satisfaction, you have to swallow your pride enough to show him that you trust him enough to help you—swallow it enough to rely on him.” She didn’t know their full father-daughter dynamics, but she was very insightful in her experience of being caught in the middle of it. Plus, she had her own father she had lost her chances with.

The daughter of the culprit blinked at her, both in thought but surprise. That made a lot of sense, even though she hated the thought of calling out for him like a needy, helpless child. It wasn’t her. It never had been. Especially with him . She hated the idea, but it might be worth a try. “You think so?”

Tara shrugged, “Could be. I mean if you’re looking for somebody and it’s urgent, your biggest hope is to call-out to them, right?” She left her place to tend to the boiling pasta. “I don’t know, it’s worth a shot,” she told her, “Why not try to find him after dinner? Worst thing that could happen is you go out for nothing, but hey, at least you tried.”

Her older sister stayed quiet, nodding even though Tara’s back was to her. Wasting her time and energy running half of the night for something that might not even be there wasn’t something she was sure she wanted to try, but she needed answers in order to make sure she could keep her family safe.

So, her decision was made.

Samantha slowed her pace to a trot, letting her tongue slip past her lower fangs to hang over her jaws. Her golden orbs flashed through the forest's shadows as her ears twisted to detect the movement within its essence.

It was the first time she’d taken a late-night run after eating an actual meal, and to her surprise, she found that running on nutritional energy rather than emotional energy was much more empowering and withstanding. She shook the rush of her speed from her fur and dropped down to a patrolling stride. As her heart rate started to slow, she was able to assess any familiar traces through her snout.

Stale blood, smoke, and musk. Exactly what she was looking for.

So, he was here… Just not showing himself.

Maybe Tara was right? God, but how she had hoped she wasn’t. She felt stupid asking for help and felt even more stupid having to call out for him to show himself, like she was begging for his presence. Sure, it might be urgent, but still…

A low growl rumbled in the young wolf’s throat as she stalked on through the trees, ears flattening with the reality that she would have to say something. She huffed and lashed her tail, before pausing in her path to glance around. She might as well just get it over with…

“I thought you told me you could help me,” she began, letting her ears perk to detect any further trace beyond her own voice. “You made me commit to you, and I haven’t heard shit for 3 days!” 

Stillness. Silence. Nothing.

Her flanks fluttered with her panting. And the embarrassment set in… feeling like a fool even though she was by herself. She rolled her eyes and looked at her paws, feeling the fur on her spine prick with frustration. This was pointless. Yet, something in her made her try again, this time, using what Tara had advised.

“Please?” Her amber eyes glowed in the contrast of night as she scanned her surroundings again. She had to force her next words out. “I could really use your help right now…” At least they didn’t come out as aggressive as she anticipated.

The quiet ambience was interrupted by scuffling the rustling of bushes. And to her luck, that familiar voice that had been absent for days greeted her from behind.

“Was it really that hard to ask me for help?”

Sam spun around to see her father in gray fur and glowing eyes. She scoffed, “Do you think I’d have wasted my time for 3 days waiting on you, if it wasn’t?” Being smart-aleck probably wasn’t the best move when asking for his help, but he just got under her skin way too much.

But Billy just tilted his head. “I was testing you, Sam.” Then, he chuckled, “It just took you 3 days to pass.” He took a seat and raised a hind paw to scratch behind his ear. “Which leads me to the next thing, before we get into what you need help with.” Extra, intentional feedback was his strong-suit. “You never address me, just expect me to know you’re trying to get my attention. That needs to change, if we’re going to be working together like this.” He paused his scratching to get her thoughts. He knew she was resistant, resentful, and uncomfortable with the hierarchy dynamics of being a wolf, but trust was something more than taking someone’s word for it. It was how you addressed, behaved, and opened yourself up to whom you’re trusting. It was about establishing a relationship .

This was where she failed to see the depth of the promise she made the last night he saw her.

But Sam didn’t see why she needed to address him, when he was the only one she talked to out in the middle of nowhere. He was looking for something. He wanted something from her, and it didn’t take her long to figure out what it was.

She had never addressed him before, because she didn’t need to; however, when talking to others, she had always referred to him using his own name or ‘ my father ’. That was it. That’s all there ever was between them.

From the look on her face, the older canine went on to explain. “I mean, I feel like I’m not even a person to you sometimes. You talk about me like we’re not even close—”

“We aren’t ,” she snapped.

“Yet, here you are,” he countered, coolly like he always did when he backed her into a corner. “I’ve been in your head for as long as you can remember: talking to you, guiding you, teaching you, and we’re not close?” His eyes gleamed like his fangs as he grinned. “I beg to differ.” He watched her shift uncomfortably, knowing there wasn’t anything that she could come up with to defend herself against that truth. He then lifted his muzzle with a smug look, “ I’d like you to call me Dad .”

His daughter stepped back with a wry scoff, her hips lowering into a stacked position as her tail swished in disbelief. Fine, they were close, but calling him that was extreme. “No. You lost that privilege a long time ago,” she growled.

“Had I been in your life to begin with,” he added in correction to that sentence. “You can’t change biology, Sam. ‘ Father ’ hasn’t been used for centuries, and calling your biological father by his name is disrespectful.” But he was willing to negotiate with her… manipulatively, of course. “Think of it as you keeping your promise to trust me above all other things. A second chance?”

But she wasn’t buying it. It did make sense, but it was nearly insulting to her. They weren’t that way. There was only one man that she had ever considered her dad and that was her step-father, Tara’s biological father, the man who raised her from day-one when her biological one was playing Cowboy Casanova .

Her uninterested stare made Billy shrug, “Unless, of course, you’d prefer to call me Daddy …”

An offended snarl emitted from Samantha’s throat to cut him off as her lips and ears drew back simultaneously. However, he just smirked and jerked his muzzle towards her, “It’s your choice.”

She forced herself to regain composure as he kept his. She had bigger problems to deal with rather than get distraught over calling him a simple name. It was just them, so it’s not like she’d have to say it often. So, eventually she sighed and gave him a short nod. “Alright,” she succumbed, “You win.”

“Shake on it?” He teased her by raising his front paw like a domesticated dog would do on-command.

“Don’t push it.”

The gray wolf put his paw back down with an amused scoff. “Okay, so moving on… You’re here because of those text messages you’ve been getting, right?” He saw everything, even when she thought he wasn’t around. It was almost like an all-seeing-eye type-deal.

The other took a seat herself and nodded, still trying to shake the flush of heat from her pelt. “Yeah.”

“Well, you’re right. It is Richie,” he clarified. He then tilted his head with an intrigued gleam in his golden eyes. “You ever heard of haunted technology ? Because that’s what’s happening. Just like I can appear to you from another world, Richie can do the same, but he’s using a different spiritual medium to distract you from Ethan.”

As freaked out as that made Sam feel internally, she didn’t show it, just blinked at him as he went on.

“He’s trying to get inside your head, Sam. Don’t let him get there. But it’s not just him,” he warned, “The members of the Kirsch family that you killed… they’ve all found a taste for wolf’s blood .”

She raised her jaw, “So, what? They’re gonna show up out of nowhere, just like you?”

He shook his head. “No, they’re here. They just haven’t shown themselves in their chosen form yet.”

Her eyes narrowed. “ Chosen form?” Now what? From wolves, to Ethan, to Billy in-person, to Richie haunting her through texts… What else was there to know?

“Kirsch Cats,” he answered. “Siberian Tigers, which biologically prey on Gray Wolves… if given the chance…”

Sam was stolen by the word ‘cat ’, that last message making her blood run cold:

‘Cat got your tongue?’

It all started to make sense now.

taglist in comments :)

All my best! 🩶

- parker (BWS)

The Wolves of Woodsboro - Chapter II

HUMAN

Nesting birds jumped from the trees and scurrying nocturnal creatures scattered into the shadows’ depths at the sound of a predator rushing through the forest.

Sam’s eyes burned as she sprinted blind, racing with long strides and no concern for her surroundings. She would have thought she’d grown used to this feeling by now, but it seemed enhanced tonight. 

It was Tara. 

It was her father.

It was everyone she had ever come into contact with, since she met Richie. Since the nightmare was set in motion. Since her life was bound by the truth. Since time was set to fire and purpose was defined as vengeance.

Voices screamed at her, all that she could hear around the blood roaring in her ears. Words she had never wanted to hear again. Mixed words and voices that were distinguishable but threatening at the same time.

‘ “Tara was attacked.” ’ Wes.

‘ “Sam… I was so scared.” ’ Tara.

‘ “Mmm. Antipsychotics aren’t working as well as they used to, are they?” ’ Billy.

Her tongue slid against her fangs with each reflex of her lungs.

‘ “I remember you too… and all the trouble you used to cause your family.” ’ Judy.

‘ “Sam… Get the fuck out!” ’ Tara.

‘ “You wanna know why, Sam? Maybe it’s because you’re a selfish bitch who can’t even make a decision to save the life of someone you love.” ’ Amber.

Her claws dug deeper into the earth with every stride.

‘ “You’re in Stu Macher’s house, where your dad and Stu killed everyone. Someone planned to get you there. You need to get the fuck out, Sam!” ’ Sidney.

‘ “Wasn’t that hard for me to find you in Modesto. It wasn’t that hard for me to fuck you either. But I guess being a sexually available woman is supposed to be empowering these days.” ’ Richie.

A deep snarl came from her throat as she cursed herself, shaking her head of the branches that slapped her muzzle as she blindly raced past them.

The voices got louder.

‘ “Sam. Are you fucking kidding me? You’re stalking me now?” ’ Tara.

‘ “You guys should stay away from her. She knows what she did!” ’ Stranger.

‘ “Unstable.” “Born-killer.” ’ Gale.

Cuts and stabs tormented her body and ripped the fur from her skin as she tore through shrubbery and disheveled paths.

‘ “Then don’t trust anyone. Not your friends. Not me. Not anyone.” ’ Danny.

‘ “Come on, Sam, you got to be excited to get our murder on again. Together. Billy and Sam. Team Loomis.” ’ Billy.

‘ “No, you’re gonna die, Samantha! Choking on your own blood, while I hack up your sister.” ’ Quinn.

Savage barking intertwined her snarls as she pushed harder, the smell of her own blood from her scarred flanks and blistered pads just fueling her more. The cool colors of the woods and night blended into red. All shades of red, the kinds that she had seen in liquid form come from another being’s body. Friends, family, enemies, allies. Mid-20s and already desensitized to the crimson flood that was a one-way ticket to life or death. It thrilled her. There was an inner lust that drove her mad when the hunt was on. And that was the biggest struggle she fought herself on. 

Was she a human or a wolf?

‘ “This was your grandmother’s, Sam. Nancy Loomis. Really runs in your fucking family, doesn’t it?” ’ Ethan.

‘ “And you’re a killer. Just like your father.” ’ Wayne.

‘ “Ding-ding-ding-ding-ding! She’s finally starting to get it!” ’ Ethan.

The wolf was outrunning by far. Her throat ripped deep within from another infuriated snarl that echoed off the trees.

‘ “That I knew you had to fucking die! You had to be punished!” ’ Wayne.

‘ “There she is. There’s the fucking killer.” ’ Quinn.

‘ “Sam. Let me go.” ’ Tara.

‘ “Yeah, let her go, Sam, come on!” ’ Ethan.

‘ “Now you know the truth, huh? Murder’s in your blood!” ’ Wayne.

‘ “Legacy doesn’t always have to be a bad thing.” ’ Kirby.

Samantha broke out of the overcast of trees and out into the open air. Her paws hit the hard, still-warm concrete of a road, and the sudden change of pace had her freezing in the moment. The voices stopped, and she was whipped back into reality.

A bright light blasted her profile from the left, followed by the bellowing of a car horn. Her ears erected as she looked over to find a white glow blind her and the heat wave of an engine brace her bristling coat. 

The screeching of tires pierced her eardrums.

Her heart skipped a beat.

Everything she had just experienced as voices came back physically to play behind her eyes. Past, present, and future. Her life was a blur. 

She anticipated pain, more pain than she had ever experienced, but instead, something strong and sharp grabbed her scruff and her body was yanked out of the light and into the shadows once more.

Jaws. That was what had her.

On the other side of the road, there was more forest, and in that one leap it took to get out of the danger of being crushed by a car, the she-wolf was released and thrown to the earth. The cuts she sustained from her mindless sprint through the first half of the woods pulled as the strength of her ‘savior’ sent her skidding through the collection of twigs, dirt, and dead leaves. But adrenaline was still rushing, leaving her shaking her head of the commotion and lifting it towards the figure that stood a good distance from her.

Another wolf.

Golden eyes, identical to her own, was the only source of color around the gray-colored pelt the other possessed. Their lips were pulled back slightly into somewhat of a condescending smile, while the presentation of their erect ears and confident posture showed their entitled dominance.

Another wolf-shifter.

Sam’s heart skipped a beat at the shock of who it was. The scent. The rugged tone through the canine vocals. The smug expression. The way those eyes led to darker ones portrayed in human form, the ones that always gleamed with bloodlust, ambition, and temptation.

Billy Loomis.

“You should really watch where you’re going, baby girl.”

Was that supposed to be insulting? It sure sounded like it. The smile pulling at his muzzle made her push her shock of having him physically appear before her aside to pull her own lips back in a defensive growl. That little nickname, though typical of a parent to their daughter, was insulting and condescending to her and her reputation. Never said before by him, it definitely got under her skin.

However, her bristling fur didn’t faze him as he began to walk towards her. “Easy, now. I just saved your life,” he warned.

His daughter’s ears drew back with a soft growl, and she pushed herself to her paws with a grunt, “How are you even—”

“Real?” He finished her thought with a confident swish of his tail as he edged his snout towards her. “I’m not. To anyone but you and the dead , of course.”

She shook her pelt out, making sure to meet his eyes once she regained control of her train of thought. “Okay, well, what are you doing here?” As shocked as she was that he was able to physically appear to her and touch her like he was alive, she didn’t let it show. She played it cool.

Billy kept his stride sleek, beginning to circle her. “You’re impulsive, Sam,” he criticized, “You’re too emotional, and that’s what’s going to lead you to fail.” He studied her pelt, gently nipping at it to untangle dirt and debris from it. Of course, she flinched with sensitive winces, making him chuckle as she jerked her muzzle around when he rounded her hind end.

“Get to the point,” she snapped, irked by his judgmental antics.

He made it back to her front, dropping his tone to a much more serious tone. “You want to stop Ethan? You’ve gotta start making some decisions.” He faced her, golden eyes like plated pistols as his muzzle was only inches away from hers. “Talk to her. Tell her the truth.”

By ‘her’, he meant Tara and she knew it. History really did repeat itself. In the worst ways, of course. He was right. She was too distracted to deal with another killer, protect her family, and keep her secrets all at the same time. It was a recipe for self-sabotage. Self-destruction. “About what?” But she couldn’t jump to conclusions yet.

“That’s what you have to decide,” he answered, “About you. About me. About Ethan.” The ice in her gaze made him take a step back, showing her that he was not a threat. “I’m not your enemy here, Sam. I’m trying to help you.”

His actions spoke for his claim, which made her force her fur flat and lift her jaw in a subtle challenge. “Really?” If by helping, he meant barking orders in her head 24-damn-7, then that was a kind of help she had never heard of. “Because it feels like it’s just ‘ do this, do that. ’ Are you going to let me make my own decisions, or are you going to keep telling me how to make them?”

The gray wolf gave a low growl, “You wait for me to make them for you. Don’t you realize that?” She didn’t say anything, just shifted her weight after a moment of a failed attempt at coming up with a comeback. Now, he amped his harshness up. “This is your family we’re talking about. You hesitate too much, and without me, you’d already be far-up shit’s creek. You can’t wait for opportunities.” He then squared up to her, “Go out and take them.”

The late-night breeze ruffled their pelts and made the trees whisper in the tense silence of the pair of savage predators stalking the forest floor.

Samantha glanced at her paws, the torn skin from her figure stinging from the wind. She knew she couldn’t say much to defend herself at this point, because the truth was, she was still trying to get a handle on herself and this inner wolf she had been forced to coexist with. She heard Billy sigh, his growl gone and waiting for her to give him a response.

Once again… she was hesitating… wasting time and energy… just like he was on her back for.

“I…” Her voice had softened, low and quiet as she fought with what she should and shouldn’t say. “I just… I’m not sure how to handle all of this,” she eventually admitted, instantly cursing herself for expressing this kind of vulnerability in front of him. Yet, it was like her tongue had a mind of its own as she continued to spill, “The last time a killer was on the loose, Tara bit my head off. The time before that, she shut me out. How am I supposed to tell her that Ethan’s alive and looking for us, and that I’m part wild dog with barely any control over it?” She raised her eyes to her father. “And now I’m seeing you as more than a reflection and a voice in my head.”

He blinked at her. A neutral expression with a heavy sense of authority. A true alpha. “Prioritize.” It was simple really, but she made it so complicated. “Right now, all they need to know is that there’s another killer on the loose and hunting for you.” Oh, females were so emotional, having to make everything so much more than it needed to be. “The rest will come with time.”

As much as she hated to admit it, she was submissive to him. Very submissive. That frustrating truth had come on strong once she had gained the ability to transform, leading her to blame the wolf-pack hierarchy. She had sworn she didn’t want his help. Couldn’t stand it. Couldn’t live with it. But reality was, he had a very leveled head. Always sleek and composed: one of the heavy, notorious characteristics of a serial killer. 

She was just the daughter of one. Many of the instincts ran in her blood, but that psychopathic ability did not. In most situations, anyway. 

In order to do this right, she needed his help, and from the look in his eyes, she guessed he was waiting for her to ask him for it. “Will you help me?” She had to force it out, the words closing up her pharynx.

Her father gave a small smirk, the one he always gave when she made the right decision. He took a step back, the moonlight filtering through the trees to highlight his pelt like one would expect of a manifested deity. “Samantha, I can give you everything you’ll need to tear that motherfucker apart,” he answered, giving the same vibe as he had the last two times when a cold-blooded killer had stalked the streets in search of her and her sister. “I can train you into a mastermind of human and wolf. I can teach you how to control it. I can show you how to unlock your full potential and wield that power for the greater good.” His golden orbs darkened to an amber as he dipped his head temptingly. “But you have to trust me above all other things.” He had only looked at one other person this way before and that was Sidney, when he had tested her to tell him what he had to do to prove that he wasn’t a killer. But even as a canine, the same look, same mannerisms, and the same voice was there. 

His pup stared at him, the temptation clearly setting in, begging for her to chase it down.

“You have to let me in.”

Her heart quickened, but why, she didn’t know. Maybe it was hope, maybe fear? Maybe it was anxiousness, or maybe it was the thrill of the hunt? Either way, she swallowed, wanting to take his word but also scared to. 

This chase wouldn’t be easy, none of them ever were. Someone was going to get hurt, they always did. But as far as a lead went, he was her best shot. 

“Fine.” 

Like usual, the house was dark with the exception of a lamp giving a soft glow from the living room as Sam slipped through the front door. Her head was pounding, and exhaustion pulled at every muscle in her body. She secured both locks on the door, before moving the small bench from the piano to its nocturnal place in a diagonal against the door and the neighboring wall, her paranoia still making her secure the doors every night without fail.

It was close to 2 AM, so it wasn’t as late as she typically stayed out, but it felt just as long. Her conversation with Billy played in her head the whole way home. Over and over and over again. Her head felt like it was about to explode, the throbbing was endless. Talking to him, anticipating talking to Tara, anticipating to then talk to the rest of the household, meeting him nightly to ‘train’, wondering where Ethan was and what he was planning…

It was so much to process, and it felt like a thousand worlds on her shoulders. She just wanted to go to sleep and forget about everything, even if it was only for a few short hours. But with how fast her mind was racing right now, she knew it wouldn’t be that easy.

She gave a tired sigh, wiping her face before running her fingers through her hair as she turned around to proceed into the living room. Some of the tension that swirled in her head luckily eased once she saw Danny get up from the sofa to meet her.

“Hey, beautiful,” he greeted with a small smile.

But instead of stopping before him, the she-wolf closed the remaining space between them by returning his greeting with an embrace. She wrapped her arms around his torso and rested her head on his shoulder. And when she felt him stroke her hair, she tightened her hold in the security his warmth granted her.

It had been one hell-of-a-night.

Her sudden display of affection was a bit abnormal, but Danny didn’t question it as he held her close, her natural scent of coconut and soft musk overlaid by coniferous trees when he placed a gentle kiss on her head. “Your home earlier than usual,” his voice was barely above a whisper.

She just nodded, blinking at the shadows on the carpet. She stayed put for a moment longer before stepping back to meet him eye-to-eye. “Thank you for being patient with me. I know it’s not easy.” She knew she was damaging her relationship with him, slowly but surely. “And I’m sorry.” She would never be able to express that appreciation enough. 

He had never tried to fix her, quit her, or slow her down. No matter how indifferent, or reckless, or careless she became, he never stopped loving her. And that was a hard pill for her to swallow, because who could ever love someone they would have to spend a lifetime studying, learning, and revisiting? 

It was him. It just took hell and high water for her to find him. 

And she was still going through hell and high water, but now she was taking him with her.

He blinked at her with the same look he’d given her countlessly, ever since he’d met her—the one that showed his attentiveness and concern, even though he didn’t know the depths of what she was saying. He had never pushed her to tell him her secrets or open-up more than she was ready to. But then, he went back to his conversation with Tara from earlier. Her words stung. A lot. However, he wasn’t a part of the tight-knit group they had tied-down in Woodsboro. He wasn’t Woodsboro . And his partner had told him that. Exactly. “It’s okay,” he replied.

“No, it’s not,” Samantha shook her head. She was too tired for her brain to actually come up with an explanation, so she just put together one that would satisfy tonight. “There are things that I just can’t talk about right now, but there are also things that I can and should’ve talked about a while ago.” She shifted her weight as she looked off, put in the same uncomfortable position she had grown accustomed to in her lifetime, “It’s not fair to you. It’s not fair to anyone, and I know that. I… I’m working on it.” She locked eyes with him again, because she was serious. She had made her decision, like Billy had told her to. “I’m trying, so… please, bear with me just a little longer.”

Her boyfriend listened to her, recognizing the weakening cords in her voice that hinted at it breaking. Her eyes were glassy, but he couldn’t tell if they were teary underneath the glaze of utter exhaustion. He nodded, moving his hand to brush her hair back, then ran his knuckles gently down the side of her face, “It’s alright, Sam.” It was then that he saw the tears start to glisten on her lower eyelid.

It didn’t feel alright. She had to give him the win though, because she couldn’t go back and forth on this matter anymore than she already had. “I’ll explain what I can in the morning.”

But she did have one more thing to take care of before she could settle for the night, or… try to settle at least…

A low growling sound interrupted the quiet, leading the male’s blue eyes to drop where the noise came from: Sam’s stomach. The solemn mysteries of the night were slightly lifted by a light chuckle as he lightened the mood. “Well, for tonight, it sounds like you should eat. I can make you something, if you like” He knew it was late, but he also knew she hadn’t eaten dinner and he didn’t recall seeing her eat anything before then. “I know it’s late, but…”

However, his girlfriend just shook her head, unable to help the small upturn of her lips at his lighthearted attempt, “No, I’m fine. Thank you.” He gave a quiet “okay” in response, and she felt his hand come up to rub her side, as if easing her empty stomach that would continue to be ignored. She instinctively glanced down, the cuts and scratches from the shrubbery she raced through stinging from her clothing being pressed down by his hand. Which then reminded her, “Um… is Tara still awake?”

This may have been a stupid question, considering that it was about to be 2:00 in the morning, however Tara was notorious for going to bed at 9:00 or 10:00 but not going to sleep until late, sometimes even 3 AM. She would either be on her phone or just lay there listening to music. Sometimes she would read, but they were more like attempts to read, because she didn’t have enough self-discipline to stay engaged for longer than a couple of pages. 

Danny knew this though and glanced off in the direction of the room Tara, Chad, and Mindy shared as if he could see through the walls, “I don’t know. I talked to her right after you left, and then she went to bed.” He looked back at her. “She was really upset.” 

That hurt. A lot. All she could think of was the last thing she said to her before she jumped the gate and ran off. She couldn’t blame her younger sister for feeling the way she did or going to beat answers out of someone else. She wanted to blame it on the whole inner-wolf thing, but the reality was that it was just her seething at what she couldn’t control. 

She was helpless, and that’s what drove her crazy. It was a vulnerability. It was pathetic. It was incompetence. 

But Tara didn’t deserve that. Not after everything she had been through, including the grieving of her own relationship from when Sam left on her 18th birthday. The empty, lonely void of those five years she had faced on her own, growing up quicker than she was supposed to. That wasn’t fair to her.

And neither was Sam’s treatment of her…

“I need to talk to her,” the she-wolf thought out-loud, explaining herself because she knew she hadn’t done that very well, so far. “I said something to her I shouldn’t have, when I left… And I feel really bad about it.” Her jaw tightened with the reflex of catching emotion before it flooded into her voice.

Danny was quick to reassure her, “You’re her sister. She loves you no matter what.” He followed her as she looked up at him with an I-hope-so look, which led him to dismiss her, nodding towards the front of the house. “You can go check on her, if you want to. If she’s not awake, you can talk to her in the morning.” He curved the hand on her flank around the small of her back to pull her in and press another loving kiss to her head, before pulling back. “Okay?”

Sam nodded, managing to try and give him a reassured smile, but it didn’t come out like she had hoped. “Okay…”

He then returned the nod and removed his hand from her. “The bed’s already undone. You come to bed, when you’re ready.” As secretive as she could be, those dark eyes never lied. He could read them better than anything, even in the lowlights of the living room. “I know you’re tired.”

His partner gave him another nod, before breaking away from their conversational position. She heard the pull-string of the lamp click to eliminate all light in the room as she made it towards the front of the house and to the hallway that was straight to the left of the front door, where the remaining members of the household were. 

There were only three rooms, Chad’s game room, which they called the Blue Room directly to the left when entering the hallway, then about halfway down was a bathroom, and then straight across from the Blue Room was the bedroom that the youngest three shared, which—while technically should be called their room—was commonly referred to as the Green Room because of the pale, grayish-green walls.

She kept her footsteps as quiet as she could while making her way down the hall, but the house was aged so the wood floors creaked at the worst times. She met the door and silently opened it, the inevitable click of the latch piercing the soft swishing of the overhead fan as she peered in.

All three inhabitants were fast asleep, the subtle glow of the nightlight on the far wall giving a peaceful ambience that showed their silhouettes: Mindy in the bed directly facing the door, Chad on the air mattress in front of the closet that was against the wall that the door shared, and Tara in the bed farthest away. The one parallel to Mindy’s. 

Sam blinked through the halflight at her, but it was obvious she was turned away, facing the wall like she was still mad, even though she was asleep. And that sight alone made the decision clear that she would have to talk to her in the morning. 

That is, if she even wanted to hear it…

Her older sister sighed and backed out of the room, silently shutting the door to turn around and make-way back across the house to where her shared room with Danny was. 

Halfway down the hallway, the grandfather clock rang out, striking the 2:00 AM hour. It simultaneously blended with a chime from her phone in her back pocket.

A text tone.

Who in the hell would text her at 2 in the morning?

She paused in the pitch-black corridor and reached behind her to pull out her phone. It lit up to reveal a name and a message. A name she knew all too well but hadn’t heard from directly in 18 months. From a ghost in a small town, to an undeleted contact, to a cover-up caller, to 1-out-of-3 dead murderers… 

Her blood ran cold.

Richie Kirsch .

But that couldn’t be possible. Could it? Ethan was alive, but surely, he was too smart to pull the same trick twice? Wasn’t he?

But this wasn’t a call. This was a text. And the message sent was one that only an ex-lover would send. 

But how? Richie was dead. 

Gone. 

Forever. 

Right?

Now, wide awake, Samantha’s eyes reflected the notification, reading it over and over again, with her heart picking up its pace every time she did so, that familiar sense of haunt rising through her.

She could hear it come from his lips like he was purring it in her ear behind her, in the darkness of the hallway, at the solitary hour of 2:00 AM, and she knew right then and there… This was where it all began.

‘What’s up girl, how you been?’

TAGLIST:

All my best! 🩶

- parker (BWS)

The Wolves of Woodsboro - Chapter I

summary:

fandom: Scream

characters: Sam Carpenter, Billy Loomis, Tara Carpenter, Chad Meeks-Martin, Mindy Meeks-Martin, Danny Brackett, Ethan Landry, Richie Kirsch, Quinn Bailey, Wayne Bailey, Kirby Reed, Gale Weathers, Nancy Loomis

SPEED

Samantha Carpenter had always been hung up on speed.

Always on the run. Running towards something, running away from something. She had always been unpredictable. She was mysterious to many and a misunderstood criminal to most. A stray dog, a wild horse, a feral cat, a savage wolf. 

Like a wolf, she was strong and loyal. Like a wolf, she was judged and territorial. Like a wolf, she was reserved and distant. Very distant, and in more ways than just being the daughter of the legendary wolf that had started the endless franchise of killings in a Ghostface mask: Billy Loomis.

She was different. Her father promised her that title. And he given her something more. Something that hadn’t awoken inside of her until she held his murder weapon in her hands and wore his mask over her face.

“Murder’s in your blood.” Wayne Bailey, Richie Kirsch’s father, told had her.

“Your birthright.” He had said.

And he was right.

She was Samantha Loomis. 

She was a wolf . 

It had been 6 months since the Kirsch family had been sent to their graves, and a lot had happened. Moving on and holding on. It was different for all of the survivors. Sam, Tara, Chad, Mindy, and Danny abandoned their split apartments to come together under one roof in the suburbs. It was a small, one-story house, surrounded mostly by larger, newly built homes, but it was good enough for them. Furthermore, the three younger survivors had continued going to college, and like they had promised each other, the Carpenter sisters had been attending weekly therapy sessions together. The therapist they had been going to was the best they had met so far. She was understanding, low-key, and didn’t project herself as a know-it-all, just-there-to-get-paid counselor. This made it fair to talk to her.

Well… for Tara at least. 

For someone who wasn’t used to opening-up to a stranger about her past, trauma, and scars, the younger sister was able to communicate herself fairly well a few sessions in. She was skeptical, but she had made a promise and she intended to keep it. Not to mention, her well-being needed to be secured in order for her to live the rest of her life. 

After all, survivors didn’t run from their past, they outran it towards something better.

On the contrary, Sam was the opposite, which was surprising, since she had been the one consistent with trying to receive help before the 2023 Ghostface attacks had happened. Ever since she killed Richie’s father and sister, she hadn’t been the same. She hadn’t felt the same. Her aggression had grown along with her temper. She had become very territorial and instinctive. And she had been fighting in a tailspin with her Loomis-bloodline. It had taken her a while to figure out what these differences were from, but when her guttural feelings betrayed her insides to reveal themselves, she had learned quickly.

She was a wolf. Not symbolically, like anyone would assume, but a shapeshifter. Triggered by emotions, her form would change from a human to a wild animal, and no one knew. The visions of her father occurred more frequently, and she heard his voice often. He was a shifter, too, but he couldn’t tell if he had passed down that gene to her until it happened.

He explained that it was a mutation in her Loomis DNA, an awakening that bloomed when a trauma so severe affects the host to the point where murder feels right, and the killer instincts surge. Wolves were raised to hunt, defend, and kill, and that’s what she was good at. 

Together, they were the Wolves of Woodsboro.

But she had kept it a secret from everyone. She was still trying to get a handle on it, hence why she shut down during therapy. She was indifferent, easily angered, and extremely defensive when she would be accused of trying to protect herself from vulnerability. Tara would even jump her from time-to-time, saying how they promised to do this together, but now she seemed to want no part of it. She didn’t understand it, and if she were honest, Sam couldn’t either. She was afraid of hurting Tara. She had hurt her too many times before. And she didn’t trust herself to let her sister and the rest of their household know. 

These new, unruly instincts and behaviors were messing with her mind, hormones, and personality. It was like she was going through puberty again. She couldn’t seem to control certain things, and as a result, would run off at night and get into any trouble it brought her to.

That was when the wolf inside of her ran wild. All of the emotions she held back would rush to the surface, and her father’s voice would yell at her the whole way. She would run until her chest hurt so bad, she thought she was going to have a heart attack. She would chase prey until her eyes burned from being so fixated. She would kill again and again, until her muzzle and paws were soaked and matted with blood. And when she tore the meat and broke the bones, she’d eat until she was so full, she’d throw it all up. Just to get the energy out. Just to feel something more than anger, paranoia, and the distressing loss of control.

And then, she’d go to the lake and wash herself off, drink away the metallic taste of blood and vomit, and then go home. By that time, it’d typically be between 2:30 and 3:00 in the morning. 

Danny waited for her every time she left. He never pushed her to tell him where she went or what she did, just asked if she was okay. She’d nod and say she was fine, but she knew that he knew better. She was exhausted, and he could see it in her eyes. She was queasy, and he could see it in her complexion. She was lost, and he could feel it in her kiss.

But he never pushed, and she never told. That was the way it was. 

At least until a week ago… when it got worse.

There was a new darkness on the horizon. Nothing unpredictable, nonetheless, but just as haunting as the last two times it had occurred. 

Ethan Kirsch was still alive and out for revenge against the two that ended his siblings and father. Billy had warned his daughter the moment the surviving murderer began his hunt. Every time she saw her reflection, he was there. Every time she was alone, he was there. As much as she knew he was trying to help her, she didn’t care. She didn’t want or need his help. Not when he was constantly whispering in her ear and grooming her into another version of himself. She was born a mess, so there wasn’t anything she could do to change her DNA. Sure, he had helped her with killing those who endangered her family previously, but he had quite the insulting way doing it. 

It was bold and upfront. Frustrating and intoxicating. Making her feed into the side she never wanted to be. She hated being told that deep-down, killing excited her, because she didn’t want to believe that was true. But it was…

She didn’t ask for any of this. However, no one would ever see it that way, other than the four people that she lived with.

Now, they were in danger again. This was where their progress with moving on got caught up in ropes. This was where their “ happy ending ” ended. This was where she relapsed into a hellhound with a relentless drive for speed. To hunt, to chase, to maul. She hadn’t told the rest that Ethan was alive, because her father had told her that he was taking a different approach. He wouldn’t go public with murders or attack those who were connected. That would just end up in another game of strategy. He would simply attack. 

He only had two targets. And those were the ones he would strike.

For this, Samantha planned to beat him at his own game. He couldn’t win if she found him first. And that was exactly what she planned to do.

“ Sam ,” Tara let herself into the garage to meet her sister, who was busy putting laundry in the washer. 

Her voice snapped the older sibling out of her daze that she always got in whenever she was alone. She glanced over.

“We’re putting dinner up,” she informed, “Are you gonna eat or not?”

Sam shook her head. “No, I’m good.” She shut the lid to the washer and slid the detergent cap back on the bottle. She could feel the tension between them rise instantly as she moved to put it back where it belonged, dreading to turn around and face that same frustrated glare that she had grown used to for weeks.

“This is the third night in a row that you haven’t eaten dinner,” Tara spat as she faced her. She moved all the way inside to have the screen door shut, blocking the exit to make sure she didn’t just walk out on her. But when her sister just gave a small shrug, she pleaded. “Sam, what’s wrong? I mean, I get that you’ve been having a hard time with this whole therapy thing and trying to move on, whatever, but it’s more than that. I know it is.” 

The she-wolf stared at her, her jaw tightening as she shifted her weight. Nightfall was when her anxiety, paranoia, duality, and psychotic symptoms triggered, so her appetite eluded her. Of course, she could force herself to eat, but making herself sick wouldn’t do any good when around the others.

“You’re not you anymore.”

This cut her like a knife, making her indifference vanish into a wave of emotion that took her by surprise as it threatened tears to flood her eyes. She wanted to tell her. Tell her everything that had happened since. Tell her why she was different, because she knew waiting on it would only turn out bad, like it did when she revealed the truth about their family. But every time she was tempted like this, a rugged voice hissed into her ear.

‘ “Don’t say a word.” ’

So she was forced to push it aside and excuse herself from the idea. “Not now, Tara,” she replied, refusing to meet the younger’s eyes as she tried to walk around her to exit. But her sibling’s hand clutched the door handle to hold it shut.

“Then, when? ” she demanded. “Huh? When are you going to tell me?” Tara’s eyes became darker than the shadows of the night, harder than the stone wall she was trying to break, and clearer than the indigo sky. “That’s been your answer every single time, one of us has tried to talk to you. You remember the last time you held a secret from me? How that worked out for you?” Her tone deepened into a growl as she found the older’s eyes, “Don’t make that mistake again.”

The more she talked, the worst Samantha felt. Because she knew it was true. Because she knew it was toxic. Because she knew she was repeating everything she had promised not to. As much as the Ghostface killings had taught her, she could never overcome the fear she had of herself. It was so twisted and confusing, relentless and exhausting. Yet, she couldn’t stop. She didn’t know how to. Her voice came out almost hoarse, quiet with the emotion and hatred she had towards this situation. “I’m sorry… I’m fine,” she lied.

This made Tara hot. “Don’t you fucking lie to me,” she growled. “You can pull that crap with everyone else in the house, but you can’t fool me, Sam.” She didn’t bother to hold back anymore as she let her anger raise her tone. “At the beginning of all this, you begged me over and over to go see a therapist and now, all of the sudden, you act like you’re not into it! I said we’d get through all of this shit together, and I meant it! But lately, I think I’ve been on my own… Because you’re never around anymore.” She knew her words were harsh, but nothing was changing. Someone had to confront her at some point. “You said you were never going to leave me again. Did your word mean nothing to you?”

And just like that, her older sister went from feeling guilty to defensive. Her blood boiled at that accusation. She glared at her. “Don’t you dare throw that in my face!” It was like a switch. “That shit isn’t the only thing I’ve been dealing with! Forgive me for wanting to keep you out of my drama that seems to get in your way so much—”

“You haven’t dealt with anything, that’s the problem!” Tara shouted at her. “I-I mean, we go to therapy and— and you just shut down. You don’t even try at all. I get that you have your own issues, okay, I got that, but I didn’t do this just for me… I’m doing it for you too.” 

A deep growl stirred in the other’s throat. Her spine pricked, and her muscles contracted with the onset of needing to phase. She saw red, tired of everything and everyone, and it didn’t make it any better when her father’s voice purred again.

‘ “Time to go, Sam. You’ve gotta let it out.” ’

“Just drop it,” she warned and pushed her way past and out into the open air. She heard the screen door slam shut and footsteps follow her down the driveway.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Her younger sister had one hell of a mouth on her that she had no reins on, especially when it came to her. “So, that’s the way it is, you’re just gonna run off like you always do?!”

“I don’t expect you to understand!” Sam replied, without looking back.

“I don’t have to! I just want to know what’s going on!”

‘ “Hold it in.” ’

“It’s none of your business!” It was so fucking hard. Her voice was already changing.

“Bullshit! I have a right to know as your family! Your sister! ”

“Tara, please!”

“Is it your father? Is he the one doing this to you?!”

Sam’s whole body was tense as she made it to the double-gate that guarded the front yard from the backyard.

‘ “If you don’t want her to know, get the fuck out of there right now.” ’

She turned around to face her sibling, who stopped a few yards away. “I learned to trust you, Tara,” her voice was dangerously low, corrupted with a venomous streak that made the other go silent. “I got off of your back, so get the fuck off mine .”

Tara didn’t say anything, at a loss for words at the aggression of that warning that was easily a threat. She was offended, for sure, but she had never spoken to her that way before. 

The evening breeze filled the brief moment of silence, before the wolf-shifter jumped the gate and disappeared into the night, leaving her sister alone in the half-light.

Her jaw shifted in disbelief as she stood there. “Wow,” she sarcastically nodded. If Sam thought keeping her in the dark, after everything they had been through together, was fair, she was wrong. Very wrong. She wasn’t asking for much, just for an answer. It didn’t have to be the ins-and-outs, it didn’t have to be deep, just something other than lies and deflections. Something that she could piece together. But she got nothing. Her sister was on thin ice, and her patience was getting there with this too. 

She scoffed, rolling her eyes as she stepped back to retreat to the back door, “Okay.” 

Her temper was still sharp when she ducked into the warm lighting of the living room, her hard gaze scanning the area for a single being.

“Everything okay?” From the couch, Mindy blinked at her. She had overheard the indistinct argument from inside the house—over the television—and she could tell by the look of the youngest’s face that it hadn’t ended well. “You two sounded like you were going to kill each other out there.”

“Where’s Danny?” the teen demanded, ignoring any questions and only focused on answers she was still looking for. She would find something , even if she had to wait all night until Sam returned to get it. Not that she expected her boyfriend to know, because she, as her blood, couldn’t even be trusted enough.

Mindy, while normally very inquisitive, had sensed something in her that told her to refrain from prying. So, she pointed to the room beside the fireplace that the two oldest household members shared, “In there.”

Tara slammed the back door shut and stormed in the direction she was pointed in, hearing the female twin call out behind her.

“Danny! Tara’s comin’ in hot!”

She entered the bedroom, immediately finding the male’s gaze as he looked over from the right side of the bed. As angry as she was, she knew it wasn’t his fault, so she would have to bite her tongue to avoid putting blame on those who didn’t deserve it. But Mindy couldn’t have said it better… She was hot . “Can I talk to you?” She couldn’t promise she wouldn’t lose it.

While this was a question, it came out like a demand, but Danny knew it was only a matter of time before she came to him directly, due to his relationship with her sister. He knew exactly what this was about. So, he wasn’t surprised or phased, just nodded, “Sure.” He set the towel he was folding down, muted the small TV mounted on the wall, and moved away from the bedside to listen to what she had to say.

Tara gently kicked the door closed to give some privacy, before stepping up to close the distance between them. “Does Sam talk to you at all? About… anything that’s been going on with her, since what happened 6 months ago?” She struggled to hold back her frustration, throwing her arm out and letting it fall against her thigh as she emphasized ‘ anything ’.

The other was as composed as ever as he shook his head. “Not lately. She talked to me once, but she didn’t say much, and I didn’t push her.” He could see her jaw shift behind tight lips, which led him to try to explain further, “Our relationship is different than the one she has with you—”

“ You’re a pushover ,” the younger cut him off aggressively, earning surprised silence that made her continue. “Sam is someone that needs to be pushed to open-up, because she can’t willingly do it herself. I’m younger than her, so she’s been hard-wired to keep shit from me, but, as an equal, you have the right to know what’s going on with her; especially if this relationship between you two is going to last.” She wasn’t even thinking about what she was saying before she said it, the words rolling off her tongue like second-nature. “She’s damaging every single relationship she has with the people in this house, the ones who care about her the most, and she’s having help doing it.” At this point, she had stopped blinking, staring at him like she had only stared at one other person: her sister. It was anger that masked desperation, because what she wanted was something that couldn’t be achieved by her hand.

Brackett stayed silent for a long time. As little respect as she had just shown for him, not only as a superior, but as a member of the household, he didn’t shout at her or show his offense. He simply stayed calm and listened to her… Because that’s what he had learned to do from knowing Samantha. Tara thought he didn’t know enough about her sister, but he knew more than she thought he knew. From the day they met, he had studied her. Her likes, her dislikes, her mannerisms, her habits… There were countless nights that he had listened to her talk or vent. There were other nights he helped her take her mind off of her pain, fears, and inescapable toxicity. He had felt every scar that stained her body for himself, because she allowed him to. She didn’t sleep with him for no reason, other than to be reckless with her sexual availability. 

Yes, she was reserved, and too much for her own good, at that. 

Yes, he had the ability to break her down, if he chose to do so. 

Yes, he technically was helping her sabotage herself, because she’s terrified of the dark potential inside of her that she can’t decide is an advantage or not. 

But he trusted her. 

He trusted her, because he knew where she had been and how she had handled it. He trusted her to trust him when she was ready, because he knew trust needed to be earned. He trusted her to make the decisions she believed was right for herself and the family she had vowed to protect. 

And for these reasons, he respected her privacy. He knew there was something bothering her. He knew it was driving her crazy and that’s why she wouldn’t eat, couldn’t sleep, and stayed out late at night. And so, that’s what he needed to tell Tara.

“I get what you’re saying,” he finally began, his gaze having fallen to the carpet while processing everything she had thrown at him. He raised his eyes again to meet her, “But, Tara, you have to understand that, mentally, your sister doesn’t know what the right decision is to make. She never has. Her father is a murderer that is so well-known, her connection to him has forced her to live in a world of a thousand enemies. When she runs from it, it debilitates her. When she faces it, it haunts her. It doesn’t matter how much myself, or you, or anyone else tries to get it through her head. It is up to her on what she wants to share and when she wants to share it.”

“Okay, I understand that, but why can’t she trust us?! I figure after everything we’ve been through, she could. Like, why… Why is it so hard for her to just be honest?” Carpenter’s anger had run its course for the night. She’d blame it on her homework and the late nights, but the truth was she just wanted her only sister to confide in her so badly. It hurt her to not feel like she was capable of helping her in a critical period. She had willingly let Sam be a part of her life—she wanted her to be—she literally told her that…

Why couldn’t she be a part of hers?

And Danny had an answer to that. “Because she’s scared to be honest with herself,” he told her. “She still hasn’t accepted herself. She’s gotten close, but she can’t give in to what she might become. Not yet. And if she can’t be honest with herself, then how is she supposed to be honest with anyone else?”

Tara just blinked at him, her expression almost blank as she couldn’t seem to evoke enough understanding to outrule what she believed was more imperative to her sibling’s well-being. “She needs the ability to see herself as herself and not Billy Loomis. And right now, she doesn’t have that. But we sure-as-hell do. She’s not a psycho, she’s my sister. She’s not a criminal, she’s your girlfriend. She’s not a murderer, she’s our family. ” Her brow hardened, and her tone deepened a little as her words became imperative and emphatic. “If it’s help she needs, we’ve got it.”

He agreed with her, knowing good and well they had just made it to the same page. However, he also knew that with how fast Samantha seemed to be progressing through this phase she was experiencing, chances were that ‘ help ’ went into the wrong hands. 

There was only one other person that was around her as much as they were, if not more. 

Only one other person could call themselves her family . 

Only one other person she feared more than herself…

Her biological father.

“I think someone else beat us to it.”

TAGLIST: (gonna start one for this story bc i know a few people who are interested)

All my best! 🩶

- parker (BWS)

30 Day Writing Challenge: Day 13

GROUP TEXT

Core 4 ❤️‍🔥💪

Sam: Guys, I gotta question.

Mindy: What’s up??

Chad: Shoot

Tara: what is it?????

Sam: What does “IDK, LY,” and “TTYL” mean?

Tara: I don’t know, love you, talk to you later

Sam: Ok, love you too Tara ❤️ Chad, Mindy, do either of you know??

Mindy: omg 😂

Chad: I don’t know, love you, and talk to you later

Sam: Oh ok. Wow I guess I asked at a bad time. Everyone’s busy haha

Mindy: NO SAM THAT’S WHAT THEY MEAN!!! IDK means “I don’t know”, LY means “love you”, and TTYL is “talk to you later” 🤣🤣🤣

Tara: lmfao DUHHHH

Chad: #sendhelp4sam

Sam: Fuck..

Mindy: Girl keep up!! 

Tara: that’s hard for her bc she wasn’t born in this century. she’s like lowkey a boomer fr

Mindy: Ahhh right

Sam: I’M LITERALLY IN THE SAME GENERATION AS YOU TARA

Tara: ok, boomer

Mindy: just by a year, barely

Chad: wait… Sam are you related to Uncle Sam????

Tara: A DISTANT ANCESTOR?????? o.O

Sam: Are you serious… no, I’m not..

Mindy: OK gotta agree with Boomer Sam here. Just because they have the same name doesn’t mean they’re related, dingus

Sam: Stop.

Tara: lol “boomer sam”

Sam: . . . . .

Chad: 21th century got ur tongue there, old timer?? 😂

Tara: nah her dentures probably fell out

Sam: You don’t need your mouth to fucking text…

Tara: ah my bad, then is it the arthritis?

Mindy: Bet it’s the arthritis 100%

Chad: LMFAOOOO

Sam: That’s not funny.

Tara: NO UR RIGHT IT’S HILARIOUS

Mindy: No, T, don’t shout out her, you know how the ol’ elders feel about loud and obnoxious noises 

Chad: OHHH Sam’s that old fish from that one episode of spongebob that kept yelling “Too loud! Still too loud!” it’s so sam-coded 🫡

Tara: ahahahahaha fr tho!!!!

Sam: No, it’s ducking not.

Sam: *fucking

Chad: Ducking??????? DUCKING???!!!!!

Tara: poor thing hasn’t gotten reading glasses yet. I told u to get some a looooooonnngg time ago Sam! did u seriously forget again?? 

Sam: Give me a break, it was autocorrect…

Mindy: Uh.. of course she did! She probably hasn’t refilled her dementia medication yet smh

Sam: SERIOUSLY??? WOULD YOU GUYS STOP!!

Chad: *WOULD YOU GUYS STOP?! - You forgot the question mark there, senior citizen

Chad: Now, she can’t grammar correctly.. Someone get her Life Alert before she does anything else!!!!! 

Sam: Fuck you.

Chad: Hey hey easy, I’m just respecting my elders 😌

Sam: You’re not even using correct grammar either so stfu.

Tara: oh man, I hope you’re sitting down, Sam. don’t want u getting so worked up that u fall and break a hip.. 🫣

Mindy: emphasized “Hey hey easy, I’m just respecting my elders 😌”

Mindy: replied to “Hey hey easy, I’m just respecting my elders 😌”: Oh my God, THAT’S IT!!!

Mindy named the group chat “Granny Sam’s LifeAlert Team 🚑🏥”

Mindy changed Sam’s contact name to “Granny Sam 🧓”

Mindy changed the group chat photo.

Chad: 👏👏👏

Tara: GRANNY SAM??? I’M DEAD 🤣🤣

Mindy: Yesss! We must protect Granny Sam, she’s quite frail after all 🙏

Tara: true, very true

Granny Sam 🧓: 🖕🖕🖕

Chad: rude.

Mindy: Don’t take it personal. She’s just cranky because she hasn’t had her afternoon nap. Who wants to volunteer to take her to bed???

Tara: nose goes! 🫢

Chad: Not it!!

Granny Sam 🧓: I swear to God if I hear someone outside my door, I’ll fucking show you how to take it personal, starting with you, Tara.

Granny Sam 🧓: How’s THAT for cranky?

Chad: Oooooohhhh she mad now…

Mindy: It’s fine. By the time she would get across the room, she’d probably have to sit down. Bad back and everything yk?? Old people probs 🤷‍♀️

Granny Sam 🧓: Ok, Tara, you can thank Mindy because she just took your place in being the one I beat the shit out of first.

Tara: Thx Mindy, love u 🩷

Mindy: Is that supposed to scare me, grandma?

Granny Sam 🧓: It should.

Granny Sam 🧓: Change my name back. Change the group name back. And change the goddamn picture back!

Mindy: Uhhhh excuse you… magic word???

Granny Sam 🧓: Are you serious?

Mindy: Damn straight.

Granny Sam 🧓: Fine.

Granny Sam 🧓: Please.

Mindy: Nah, I’m good

Granny Sam 🧓: MINDY

Tara: PFFT XD

Chad: I’m finna bet money. Fight! Fight! Fight!

Mindy: Okay, but I hope you have medicaid, Ms. Nancy Loomis II

Granny Sam 🧓: THAT’S IT

Tara: O-O 

Tara: shit just got real

Chad: yep. U shouldn’t have brought her real grandma into it.. It was nice knowing u, Mindy 💀

Tara: rip 🪦💐

Mindy: Okay guys, send help. I actually think she might be coming to kill me…

Tara added Billy to the group.

Tara: BILLY!!! ok u know I would never ask for ur help but… CONTROL UR DAUGHTER SHE’S GONE MAD

Billy: We all go a little mad sometimes.

Chad: Ok, well she’s dead

Mindy: Chef’s kiss perfection tho!! 🤌🤌

Tara: NO SERIOUSLY!!! she’s gonna kill Mindy any minute now. U need to stop her 😳

Billy: I’m guessing Sam’s pissed because of the group name, icon, and… her contact name?

Chad: YES!!!!

Tara: YES AND NOW SHE’S GONNA KILL MINDY PAY ATTENTION AND DO SOMETHING

Billy: Sam, you’re not killing Mindy.

Granny Sam 🧓: You asking me or telling me?

Billy: Good point. I’m TELLING you. You’re NOT KILLING Mindy.

Granny Sam 🧓: Or what?

Billy: Well I’d tell you, but I don’t think you want the other 3 to hear.

Tara: 👀

Chad: 😳

Mindy: ?????

Granny Sam 🧓: ……

Granny Sam 🧓: You’re lucky I love you, Mindy..

Mindy: I know I am 😎

Billy: Good girl.

Granny Sam 🧓: Don’t even start.

Billy: Hey, they called me for you. You’re the one who started shit.

Chad: Hey Billy, if I paid you, would you tell us what you would’ve done??

Tara: O.o

Granny Sam 🧓: Hey Chad, if I paid you, would you shut up?

Chad: nope!

Granny Sam 🧓: Fine. Then Billy, if I paid you, would you get the hell out of here?

Tara: lol

Billy: Sorry Chad, but as tempting as that sounds, no. And Sam, how much are we talking?

Granny Sam 🧓: A dollar.

Billy: No.

Granny Sam 🧓: Get out.

Billy: Someone change everything that was changed back to normal first. If I leave and get dragged back into this, you’re all gonna pay. 😈

Chad: Yes sir! 🫡

Tara: that’s you, Mindy

Mindy named the group chat “Core 4 ❤️‍🔥💪”

Mindy changed Granny Sam 🧓’s contact name to “Sam”

Mindy changed the group chat photo.

Billy left the group.

Sam: Thank you.

Chad: Don’t thank us, thank your dad

Sam: Take the win, Chad.

Chad: 🫡

Mindy: Okay sooooo what was all that about between you and your father, Sam???? He was like gonna.. Punish you or something?

Sam: Or something. I honestly don’t know what he was getting at, but I wasn’t about to let it get far enough to know so… 🤷‍♀️

Tara: OR you’re secretly a “daddy’s girl” and don’t want us to know?????? 🤔

Sam: Tara…

Mindy: Hmm that gives me an idea… 💡

Mindy named the group chat “Princess Loomis 👑🔪”

Mindy changed Sam’s contact name to “Daddy’s Girl”

Daddy’s Girl: FUCK

All my best! ♡ - parker

This always cracks me up.😂💚😘