i should hate you , scream [REWRITING]

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Amber and I sat on the floor, leaning against the side of my bed. My head rested in her lap as she gently ran her fingers through my hair, her touch slow and soothing.

"You're quiet. What's wrong?" my girlfriend asked softly.

I sat up a little and tucked my hair behind my ear. "Ghostface," I muttered.

Her brow furrowed. "What about him?"

I sighed and shook my head. "There's a murderer on the loose. Again," I said, my voice catching slightly. I rested my head against Amber's shoulder, and she laid hers on top of mine, holding me closer. "I'm just scared, Amber. I don't wanna die."

Her arms tightened around me. "And you won't," she said firmly. "I would never let that happen. I promise." Her voice was so steady, so sure, but I still felt the slight tremble of her fingers against my arm.

I closed my eyes for a moment, letting her words settle. And then, before I could stop myself, it slipped out. "I love you, Amber." My chest tightened the second I said it. Did I really just say it? Now?

Amber slowly lifted her head off mine and turned to face me. Her eyes searched mine, almost like she was trying to make sure she'd heard me right. "You love me?" she asked softly, almost disbelieving.

I sat up straighter, looking her directly in the eyes, needing her to know I meant it. "I do," I said with more certainty. "I really do, Amber Freeman."

Her lips parted slightly in surprise, but then her face broke into a wide, radiant smile. She leaned in and pressed her lips to mine, the kiss slow and tender. When she pulled away, she cupped my cheek, her thumb softly stroking my skin.

"I love you too, Logan Macher," she whispered.

Suddenly, both Amber and I received a text from Mindy.

Come over. ASAP!

We exchanged a confused glance, eyebrows furrowing. After a brief moment of hesitation, we sighed, reluctantly getting up and making our way to Mindy's place.

When we arrived, we quickly realized that Sam and Richie weren't alone. There was someone else with them. It only took me a second to recognize him. Dewey Riley, Woodsboro's former sheriff and somehow a Ghostface survivor.

After he and Gale got divorced, I hardly saw him anymore. He spent most of his time holed up in his trailer, slowly wasting away. I understood why, though. If I had nearly died at the hands of Ghostface as many times as he had, I'd probably do the same.

"I asked Mindy to call everyone here because..." Sam's voice faltered slightly, her eyes flickering around the room. "There's something I have to tell you."

Sam took a deep breath before finally saying, "Billy Loomis is my biological father."

My jaw practically hit the floor. For a moment, I was convinced I had completely imagined it.

"Are you being serious?" I asked.

Sam nodded, and I just stared at her, trying to process it. A part of me felt a strange sense of relief. At least I wasn't the only one related to a Ghostface killer. But at the same time, I couldn't help but feel bad for her. Carrying a name like that wasn't easy.

"And somehow, he knows," Sam continued as she moved to sit beside Dewey, her voice laced with unease.

"So, let me get this straight. You're saying that you're the daughter of Billy Loomis and, what? That one of us is the killer?" Chad asked, his voice sharp with disbelief.