all hers | tara carpenter x fem!reader

part 22

"Drive, Sam, drive!" Tara all but screams.

Her hands are pressed firm against the dashboard of the car, heartbeat in her throat. Her eyes are wide, red, but no tears spill over. She's focused. Determined.

Her body is thrumming, wild, as she feels a familiar force take over. Her eyes blacken.

"I am driving, Tara." Sam says back through gritted teeth. Her hands are sweaty, pressed firm against the wheel, her foot on the gas.

The car blows through a red light, tires screeching against the tar of the road.

"Drive faster." Tara growls.

Her seatbelt is unbuckled. She looks wild, as if she's about to launch herself across the car and shove Sam out of the way.

"We go any faster and we'll spin out." Sam tells her. She's hunched over like a formula one driver, racing through the familiar roads of Woodsboro.

She flies past a stop sign, almost crashing into a nearby car. The car honks, but Sam's gone before he can even make out her license plate.

Tara turns her attention to the backseat. It's a mess of kids hockey gear and empty fast food wrappers. This isn't Sam's car - they'd left it at the house and commandeered it the moment they'd figured out the truth.

Tara clutches a children's sized hockey stick between her fingertips - the only viable weapon she can find, and turns her attention back to the road.

In the distance, she can make out the house.

Just a few more miles and she'll be there. With you.

"Let me take the lead," Sam commands. She grips on tighter to the wheel as she launches it into the drive, "She's dangerous, Tara, don't do anything stupid-"

But Tara's out of the car before it even stops. Charging into the house with her hockey stick drawn like she's about to go to battle.

"Shit." Sam says. She hits the brakes, drawing up the parking brake and clambers out of the car, hot on her sister's heel.

The house is still. Silent.

Broken glass mars the lawn. The front door is wide open, an alarm blaring loudly in its wake. The noise has drawn a small crowd, near the end of the road. Neighbors peer over, their interest peaked. But Sam pays them no mind.

"YN!" Tara calls loudly. She rushes through the front door, "Baby? Are you here?"

They both hear it at once - a moan, weak, coming from the living room.

Tara doesn't hesitate. She surges forward, and into the living room, Sam hot on her heel.

Your Mom is on the floor, eyes bleary. She can't move, her blood oozing deep red onto the carpet.

Sam's breath catches in her throat.

Tara leans down, eyes wild.

"Where is she?" She asks, voice desperate, "YN. Where is she?"

Your Mom gurgles.

"Ghostface..." She gasps, "Ghostface... he took her."

"Took her where?" Tara asks, hyper-focused, "Where did Ghostface take her?"

Your Mom's chest rises, her vision spots, eyelids drooping slightly. She's loosing consciousness. 

In a panic, Tara takes her by the shoulders and shakes her, somewhat violently.