mess it up, ˢᵃᵐ ᶜᵃʳᵖᵉⁿᵗᵉʳ

𝟎𝟏𝟐.

After a short while of freaking the fuck out, panic spiraling in waves so thick it felt like drowning, Tara and Chad came sprinting around the corner, breathless and wide-eyed, slamming into their older sisters with raw, desperate urgency.

"Run!" Chad shouted, voice cracked from fear and adrenaline.

Behind them, the chilling figure of Ghostface surged forward, blade flashing under the low lighting.

He made a wild slash at Chad, who barely dodged it before delivering a right hook that sent the killer staggering.

The four of them bolted, feet pounding against the concrete floor, lungs burning as they twisted through the vast, echoing shadows of the theater.

Everywhere felt wrong, every doorway, every corridor, a trap waiting to be sprung.

"It's Kirby! She's the killer!" Sam cried, breath hitching.

Madison's heart thundered in her chest. Her gut twisted in knots. Something didn't sit right, she still didn't fully believe it was Kirby.

But this wasn't the time to voice doubts.
Not when their lives were hanging by a thread.

"No shit!" Chad snapped, running ahead to the entrance, rattling the doors with a violent jolt.

"They're locked!" Sam yelled back, her voice hollow with frustration.

Chad looked around, wide-eyed and helpless.

"We're trapped?" Madison asked, almost whispering it, but the dread behind her voice made it echo like a scream.

She gripped her scalp with both hands, pulling at her hair in frustration and fear. "The whole theatre is a kill box. For us."

Sam let out a breath that sounded more like a sob.

"What about up there...? Might be a door to the roof?" Tara's voice shook, but it was enough to light a flicker of hope.

"Only one way to find out," Chad said, already moving.

They crept quickly and quietly toward the scaffolding, each step like a countdown. The whole place felt haunted. Abandoned. Or worse, designed for this. Like someone had twisted every inch of this place into a hunting ground.

Then, like something straight out of a nightmare, Ghostface showed up again, bursting from behind the movie screen.

He launched himself off the stage, landing in front of them with terrifying speed and force. He cut them off with perfect precision.

Sam stumbled back into a display, the impact sending her knife clattering to the floor, skittering out of reach.

"Shit—" she hissed, too late.

Ghostface lunged at Chad, the knife slicing through the air. Chad ducked, but the blade cleaved through the neck of a mannequin behind him, sending its head flying.

"Beheadings!" he yelped, stunned.

Before he could catch his breath, Ghostface slammed Chad into another display. But the boy fought back. He grabbed a heavy camera and smashed it against the killer's head with a furious cry.

"Smile for the camera, motherfucker!"

"Run!" he barked at the girls.

The three of them bolted, sprinting down a narrow corridor while Chad stayed behind, hurling props and debris, anything he could find, trying to slow the killer.

He was buying them time, with his fists, with his strength, with everything he had left.

They didn't look back. Not until it was too late.