Mindfuck | Amber Freeman

S E V E N

7 | Hospital attack

As Sam speed to the hospital, cutting in front of cars and running red lights, she dialed her boyfriends number. "Richie!" She got out when the phone was answered. "Are you at the hospital?"

"Hello, Samantha."

No. Fuck. No, no. This couldn't actually be happening. I gripped the leather seat with my hands, my nails digging into the fabric. I tried to calm my breathing, because I knew that if I let the fear get the best of me, I was going to have a panic attack.

"No!" Samantha gasped.

"Richie can't come to the phone right now. He's finding out what happen to people who stick their noses in business that doesn't concern them."

"No! Please don't hurt him."

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

"What? What? Tara!" Samantha shouted. I could hear Tara's gasp of pain from the phone, and I felt the need to get up and move, but I couldn't. I just had to stay here and sit. My nails kept digging into the fabric, and I felt them sink in, tearing it open.

"Who do you want to hear die?"

"No! Please! I'm begging you. Please don't hurt them!"

"Really? You can't save your own sister? All you habe to do is say kiln Richie."

A scream from Tara was heard, and then something heavy and metal clanging against the floor. Another scream was heard from Tara, and Sam speed up, swerving around the other cars.

"Tara! Don't touch her! Please, please, please. I'm begging you."

"Or say Kill Tara."

The car came to a stop and Sam muted herself as we got out of the car, silencing the sound of the car doors opening and closing. We all ran as fast as we could to the entrance of the hospital, but then walked in quietly, headed towards the elevator.

"And I'll make sure to hit all the organs I missed last time." The voice said as we entered the elevator. I pressed the fifth button, and watched as the door closed, so slowly.

"No! Im begging you, please don't hurt her."

"Last chance to save one. Choose!"

"Why are you doing this?" Sam yelled into the phone.

"You want to 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. Maybe you're too weak for this franchise."

"Maybe you're right." Her voice was low, sad sounding. And then as she spoke her next words, they were full of confidence. "Or maybe I'm just stalling for time, fuckhead."

The elevator dinged, and then it opened. Dewey raised up his gun and pointed it towards Ghostface, who was kneeling over Tara, about to stab her. They got up quickly, running off into the other room.

"I'll get Richie," Dewey left the elevator and walked off.

"Tara!" I ran towards her, grabbing onto her arms and helping her stand up. Tara's cries of pain hurt me, but we had to get out of here.

"Get to the elevator!" Dewey yelled, and just as he did, Ghostface came out of the room they had hidden in and went to stab Dewey. The officer let go of Richie, and his arms stopped the knife mid-way.

Richie scrambled up as we watched the fight between them. Dewey flipped the ghostface over his shoulder and onto the ground, but the killer flipped him over and he fell on his stomach, his gun skittering away.

I tore my eyes away from the right and walked with Tara to the elevator, hitting the button and rushing us inside. Sam and Richie followed closely behind. I held the elevator door open so Dewey could run inside.

I backed up as he came inside, but just as the door was about to close, Dewey stopped it, muttering, "the head."

"What?" I asked.

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

"Dewey! Who gives a fuck!" I exclaim.

"I do," and then he let go of the door and stepped back. The elevator closed, and he vanished from sight.

I watched as they hauled a stretcher out of the hospital, a white sheet placed over the body. The dead body. A circle of blood was stained, seeped into it and I only know he didn't go easy.

My heart ached, even though I didn't know him. It only worsened when I saw Gale, who was being held back by Sam and Richie, sobbing and trying to get to him.

A tear slipped down my face as I watched her, looking so broken as she fell to the floor.

I knew that Sam's decision was the right choice, yet it hurt so bad. I watched as my best friend walked away from me, and I didn't know when the next time I would see her was.

I stood beside Sidney Prescott and Gale Weathers, and if it wasn't under the circumstances it were now, I'd probably be completely freaking out, because I'd always loved them.

Gale had an arm wrapped around me, comforting me even though I didn't know her, and she was the one who needed the most comforting. She sat me down on one of the couches and took the place beside me.

Sidney handed me a coffee and then sat down on my left. "She's going to be okay. She's a strong girl, that one. I don't know too many people who could have what happened to her happen to them and survive. She's a fighter."

"Yeah, she is." I took a drink of the coffee. It burned my throat, but I didn't grimace. I enjoyed the physical pain more than I did the pain inside me, because at least with physical pain it had a singular location, but mentally it fucked you up, spreading throughout your entire body, seeping into your bones and taking control of you.

"Scarlett." My head snapped up, and I saw Amber standing by the opposite couch. I got up quickly and embraced her, my head buried in her shoulder.

She rubbed my back soothingly, and stroked my hair. "Are you ready?"

I nodded and pulled back, looking at Gale and Sidney. "I'll probably be seeing you soon." I could feel it. The final act was coming soon, and there wasn't anything we could do to stop it.

I sat on Ambers bed, my back pressed up against the headboard as I watched her brush her hair, getting ready for the party that was starting in one hour.

Just like the original, in the same house even. I wasn't stupid. This would be when everything was going to go down, didn't she know that? You'd think with her loving the stab movies as she did, she'd realize this.

Her excuse for this was for Wes. She was throwing this part for Wes, in order to honor him, or something. But I knew Amber. She'd take anything she could get to throw a party, and I didn't blame her.

Maybe this could be a good distraction, because I would take anything I could to get my mind off of this nightmare reality even for just a few minutes.