Chapter Text
It had been twenty-five years since Billy Loomis and Stu Macher went on their killing spree.. When Sidney shot him, she had missed. And in the past twenty-five years, Billy was in a prison cell, just waiting. But what he was waiting for, he didn’t know until it happened. Until he found out about it.
Billy sat back on the chair, watching the news cover about another murder spree. Those copycat Ghostfaces. He scanned the background, searching for the common denominator of all the Ghostface killing sprees. He smirked when he caught sight of her. Sidney Prescott. His ex-girlfriend. The daughter of his first kill. He couldn’t help but think she looked even more gorgeous with age. He had all he needed, when the reporter talked about the new kids, the new survivors. Randy’s twin nephew and niece, some random kid and her older sister. Billy grabbed the control, ready to change the channel, when he heard it.
“- and Samantha Carpenter, the daughter of the original Ghostface, Billy Loomis-” the newscaster said, and Billy stood up. His hand gripped the control. The other inmates turned to look at him.
“You have a daughter? Congratulations!”
Billy looked at the images of the survivors, his eyes on the oldest new kid. On his daughter.
“I have a daughter,” he said, a smirk on his face. The other inmates cheered for him, as Billy walked out of the common room. He had some planning to do.
Two Weeks Later
Samantha Carpenter blinked hard, trying to stay awake. She was almost done with her shift, and she couldn’t wait. Sam had been working here since she could move without pain on her side. She applied to many places, knowing her options were limited without a college degree. And a retail job at the Westboro Mall offered her a position.
And it sucked.
All Sam got were stares. They would stare at her, knowing who she was, a survivor and the daughter of a serial killer. Sam had half the mind of just screaming at everyone. She wanted to just run away, but she couldn’t do that to Tara, not again. Her mother on the other hand.
They had a great relationship, but then after the reveal, her mother just turned on her. Her mother grew to hate her for running her husband off. Blamed her for her own substance abuse. Sam was lost those years, she was lost and had no support. And that created resentment towards her own mother.
And after the new Ghostface attacks, her mother blamed her. She blamed Sam, because of who she was related to. Because her blood started it all. Because she brought Richie to her daughter’s life, as if Sam were nothing.
Sam hung the last of the clothes on the rack in front of her and looked at the clock. She took her vest off. “I’m off.”
“See you tomorrow,” the manager said, not sparing her a look.
Sam left the mall and walked straight to her car. She sat there, in the front seat for a second, before reaching to her glove compartment and grabbed the bottle of whiskey in there. She was exhausted from being in Westboro. Of feeling everyone’s eyes on her. She quickly unscrew the cap and took a quick swig. She winced as the liquor burned down her throat.
She leaned back against the chair. She let her eyes close for just a second, when Richie’s face came to mind. She opened her eyes and looked at her hands, remembering seeing them drenched in blood, in his blood. She could still remember the sound the knife made when it ripped through his skin, when it nicked his bone. She could remember the sound he made as he choked in his own blood.
Sam was about to take another swig, when her phone started to ring. She grabbed it and saw that it was an unknown caller. Sam ignored the call and closed her eyes. Her phone rang again, and Sam stared at it. Knowing it was stupid, she answered it, “Hello?”
“Is this Samantha Carpenter?” a male voice asked, and Sam couldn’t place it.
“Who is this?” she questioned, but the caller just hung up. Sam stared at the phone, biting her lip. She quickly went to her call history and called the number back. But the operator stated that the number had been disconnected.
Feeling her heart beat quicker, she threw her phone to the passenger seat and shoved the bottle of whiskey into the glove compartment.
Sam reached for her medication, when her phone started to ring again. Sam jumped and looked at it. With trembling hands, she reached for it and looked at the contact id. She let out a sigh when she saw Tara’s name.
Sam quickly answered the call, “Tara, are you okay?”
“ Yeah, I just wanted to ask if you could pick up dinner on your way home, mom is staying late for work ,” Tara told her, and Sam couldn’t help but smile.
“Yeah, I can buy pizza, and maybe, if you want, we can have a movie night?” Sam suggested, hope in her voice.
Tara hummed, “ That sounds great actually. ”
Sam smiled, as she hung up. She pushed her key into the ignition and drove for the pizza place Tara loved. Excited to spend time with her little sister.
Sam shoved pizza into her mouth while Tara explained the theme of the movie they were watching and why she loved it so much. Sam just smiled while staring at her little sister. Her eyes shifted to Tara’s leg, it was still in a cast, her hand wrapped in gauze. Sam looked at her sister’s face, to see her relaxed.
“Can you repeat that?” Sam asked, watching as Tara glared at her and started her spiel all over again.
Sam liked it. The calm. She had been searching for it since she was thirteen. She never thought she’d get it. But she did, and she didn’t want to let it go again. She didn’t want to lose what she had.
The film came to an end, and Tara turned to Sam.”What do you want to watch now?”
“What’s your favorite movie?” Sam asked, raising an eyebrow.
A grin appeared on Tara’s face, and she just grabbed the remote control. She quickly queued up the film, and Sam got comfortable, knowing that her sister was going to tell her every little detail she knew. Sam grabbed the bottle of beer, and prepared to listen.
When the next morning came, Sam was making pancakes. She had another crap shift, and Tara had school. Sam flipped the pancake in the pan as her sister walked into the kitchen.
“Where’s mom?” Tara asked, moving to sit on a stool. She placed her arms on the table and leaned into her good arm.
“Don’t think Christina came home last night,” Sam said, placing a pancake on a plate. She counted them before handing them to Tara.
“When are you and mom going to talk?” Tara asked, grabbing the syrup to drench her pancakes. Sam wrinkled her nose, before moving to make more.
“Maybe if she stopped avoiding me,” Sam responded, watching the pancake cook in front of her.
Tara let out a sigh, and Sam did feel for her. Knowing that all Tara wanted was for them to all get along. Tara ate her breakfast, the only sound was the fire on the stove. Sam grabbed her own pancakes, when Tara’s phone started to ring. Both sisters flinched at the sound, before the younger of the two checked.
“It’s Mindy,” Tara said, standing up. She grabbed her crutches and backpack. “I’ll see you later?”
Sam gave her a smile, “Got nowhere else to go.”
Tara laughed as she hobbled out of the house. Sam ate her breakfast hung around the house, before getting ready for work. She was fortunate to have the late shift, and she could ease into her day. Once there, the day was better than most.
Maybe it was the fact that she didn’t see her mother that morning, but her day did seem better. The store wasn’t as packed, she didn’t have to interact with as many people. She was told to handle the cash register, and she just had to stand there. Sam looked up at the television, unable to hear anything.
It was on the local news. They were covering a prison break and listing the names of the escapees. Sam’s phone started to ring. She looked at the caller id, seeing Tara’s name. She answered it with a smile, “Need me to pick up dinner again? We really need to start making homemade food.”
“ Samantha ,” she heard a male voice say, and the smile slipped off her face.
“Who is this? Where is Tara?” Sam asked, her heart trying to burst out of her chest.
The man chuckled. “ If you want to see your sister alive, you’ll come home. If you want to see your sister alive, you won’t call the police. If I hear one siren, I will slit her throat. ”
Sam let out a trembling breath. “Okay, just, don’t hurt her.”
“ You have my word, Samantha, ” he told her before hanging up.
Sam stared at her phone, before running out of the store. She could hear her manager screaming for her. She couldn’t stop, she had to keep going. She had to get home. She had to save her sister.