ASSHOLES | scream au

20. KILL AMBER KILL

Amber stood still for a moment, breathing heavily, as the axe slipped from her blood-slick hands and landed on the floor with a dull clang. Her chest rose and fell rapidly, heart pounding in her ears, the metallic stench of blood thick in the air. She looked down at herself, now covered in crimson streaks—some hers, some belonging to others—but she didn't care. The pain from bruises and small cuts barely registered. All that mattered was Tara. She turned quickly, catching sight of Sam and Tara climbing up the scaffolding, scrambling toward safety. Amber's gaze swept across the chaos onstage, her eyes locking onto Kirby's gun lying abandoned where it had fallen. Without hesitation, she bent down, snatched it up, and checked the chamber.

Her fingers curled tight around the grip as she swung the gun upward toward Simon. "You're not walking out of here," she whispered under her breath, and then pulled the trigger. A series of deafening cracks echoed through the theater as she fired at him. Simon ducked behind a row of seats, dodging the shots. Amber wasted no time, sprinting toward the scaffolding, boots slamming against the stage floor, the weight of the gun heavy but reassuring in her hand.

Above her, Sam and Tara reached the edge of the balcony, their breath ragged, the exit door just a few feet away. Freedom felt so close—but danger had not passed. A single gunshot rang out, sharp and sudden. Simon, crouched on the theater floor below, squeezed the trigger just as Tara leaned over the railing. The bullet grazed her arm, slicing through fabric and flesh alike. Tara yelped in pain, her grip slipping on the railing, her feet scrambling for purchase—and then she tumbled over the edge with a horrified gasp.

"Tara!" Amber screamed, her voice raw and frantic as she skidded to a stop beneath the balcony, eyes wide with panic. Tara dangled by one hand, clutching the railing with desperate strength, her feet swinging over the empty air. Blood trickled down her arm, leaving bright red trails along her fingers.

Amber scrambled up the scaffolding as fast as her body would allow, adrenaline fueling her every step, and reached Sam, who was already leaning dangerously over the balcony's edge, one hand gripping Tara's wrist. "I've got you!" Sam gasped, her injured arm straining to hold on. Blood from her own wound dripped steadily, making her grasp slippery, and her muscles trembled with the effort. "Hold on, Tara!"

Below them, Simon holstered his gun with a slow, sinister smile spreading across his face. He took his time, moving toward the stairs that led up to the balcony, confident in his victory. Tara dangled a full story above the hard theater floor—and directly beneath her, Cassie lay injured but very much alive. The younger girl's lip was swollen and her face bruised, but that didn't stop the wicked grin spreading across her bloodstained teeth. Knife in hand, she shifted closer, ready to finish what Amber and Tara had started.

"You look pretty helpless from down here, Tara!" Cassie called out with a cackle, her voice sharp and mocking. She waved the knife tauntingly, the blade gleaming in the dim theater light. "Go ahead—fall. I'll catch you."

Sam's grip faltered, her arm screaming with the effort. No matter how hard she pulled, she couldn't lift Tara. Her hands were coated in blood, and every movement made it harder to hold on. Tara's weight tugged her downward inch by inch, and panic flickered across Sam's face. "Don't let go!" Amber shouted, desperation cracking her voice. She was nearly to them now, reaching out—but there wasn't enough time.

Tara, her brow furrowed with fierce determination, met Sam's terrified gaze. "Sam," she whispered, calm despite the fear in her eyes. "You have to let me go."

Sam shook her head violently, tears blurring her vision. "No—no, I can't—"

"Trust me," Tara whispered again, her voice steady but urgent. She locked eyes with Amber, who gave her a subtle nod, understanding the unspoken plan.