"𝙞𝙩'𝙨 𝙮𝙤𝙪. 𝙞𝙩'𝙨 𝙖𝙡𝙬𝙖𝙮𝙨 𝙗𝙚𝙚𝙣 𝙮𝙤𝙪."
When murders erupt in Woodsboro, [Name] Riley starts his profiling career early trying to catch the killer.
ghostface [1996] x male reader
1/2
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"...Death is blind..."
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How to get away with murder was never a question I had asked myself in the past. I never craved the answer. In fact, I never even considered the possibility of knowing.
I wasn't a murderer.
I wasn't a criminal.
Even in my investigation, I never once asked myself, "How will they get away with murdere?" A foolish mistake surely. Maybe I didn't ask because I knew they wouldn't get away with it, or maybe because I knew from the start they would.
But as I was carried out on the stretcher to the ambulance that's all I asked myself; "How to get away with murder?" And against all of my expectations, I knew the answer. I knew how to get away with the murder of 10 people and the fake murder of one.
I am a murderer.
I am a criminal.
I didn't deserve to be saved. I deserved to have bled out on the floor alone and in pain. If there was anyone in this fucked up mess of a massacre who didn't deserve what had happened to them it was Sidney.
Sidney wasn't a murder.
Sidney wasn't a criminal.
Sidney was just a girl who had the unfortunate fate of meeting Billy Loomis.
Voices yelled out to me as I was loaded into the ambulance. The lights were bright; blinding my already blurred vision. The unrecognizable silhouettes of uniformed bodies flashed back and forth speaking in gibberish. I was falling in and out of consciousnessness, and the possibility that I could be dying was very likely, yet the likeliness of that possibility didn't scare me. Death didn't scare me.
Death was something I wasn't scared of in the past even while I was entangled in near death situations at the hands of two blood thirsty murderers. It was something I had accepted with open arms because it was simply something I never considered to ever actually happen to me. It wasn't real. I wasn't actually going to die.
Yet as I bled out on that floor and now onto this stretcher, I recognized death for what it is. I recognized that Death is real. That death isn't a friend or a lover. That death isn't kind. That death didn't care about all the good and all the bad I had done in my life. That death is cruel. That death takes and takes without mercy and without consideration of who it was taking.
That death is blind.
My eyes closed as the ambulance doors slammed shut. The blinding light was making my headache worst, and I couldn't stand the sight of the EMTs rushing around me any longer. All I wanted was to rest.
The world began to fade out as the ambulance's engine roared to a start. I had no clear distinction of whether I was going to sleep or if I was succumbing to death. And to be frank, I could've cared less.
