Tag, You’re It | Ethan Landry | ii.
Happy, carefree college days meet their abrupt end when every guy who approaches you mysteriously turns up dead.
Warnings: NON-CON, Stalking, Bimbo!Reader, Clueless Reader, Loss of Virginity, Incel Ethan, Cheerleader Reader, Skin Carving (w/knife), Canon Typical Slashing, Voyeurism, Kidnapping
This is a dark story. Heed warnings before reading under the cut.
𝖘𝖊𝖗𝖎𝖊𝖘 𝖒𝖆𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙
The party’s already in full swing when you arrive at the OKB house. While getting ready, you lost track of time. Putting the finishing touches on your hair and nails took longer than you planned.
You dodge the bodies swaying to the loud music to make your way to your friends through the swirling blue lights.
Mindy spots you right away and waves at you.
"Not bad, freshman," she praises as you twirl in front of her and Mindy to show off your nurse costume decorated with splashes of fake blood.
They’re both sprawled on the couch, limbs twined. Expectedly, only Anika made the effort to don anything resembling a costume, a pumpkin-colored hat with a bloody knife poking out of it sitting atop her head.
Mindy even bothering to come considering what happened the last time she attended a frat party is already a huge effort on her part.
You chat for some time, sharing the latest news regarding your friends.
You learn that apparently Tara got into it with her sister…again.
A lot of tension has built between the two of them lately, Sam’s protectiveness clashing with Tara’s craving for independence.
Maybe Sam’s been overdoing…but who can blame her?
Those two have been through hell and back.
"Have you guys seen Connor?"
While you attempt to sound casual, even tossing a shrug, Mindy sees right through you and flashes you a teasing grin.
"One-track minded, huh?"
Your face warms. "Sorry, I just…I really looked forward to seeing him."
Anika gives your hand an encouraging squeeze.
"It’s okay, babe. To be young and in love."
"And horny," Mindy adds, dragging a quick eye over your outfit as her smile broadens.
Her comment sparks more heat in your cheeks. Sure, things between you and Connor are growing steamier. But you don’t want to rush anything. You like him, and you want your first time to be special, romantic.
"I’ll see you guys later."
"Have fun," Mindy says, waving her beer bottle at you.
Your search resumes and you grow nervous, pondering if Connor is even in attendance. Maybe you missed him. Downsides of running late.
Damn you and your tendency to spend hours dolling yourself up.
As you wander across the room, you nearly crash into a familiar broad, muscular back.
An easy smile creeps on your face when your friend turns to face you.
"Hi."
"Hey, looking good."
"You too, cowboy."
You’re pretty certain Chad’s never looked bad a day in his life. There’s a reason why he’s the most popular player on the team, and one of the most sought-after guys at Blackmore. Well…several, starting with the fact that his hotness is only matched by his unwavering kindness to everybody he meets.
You suppose if you hadn’t known him for so long, you’d harbor a crush on him too. But you’re too familiar with Chad to see him in that light. You still recall when he insisted on wearing a Pokemon onesie for nearly a year. You used to watch cartoons with him and Mindy as children, play together. He’s even tried to get you into Magic: The Gathering at some point but you couldn’t understand how the game works so he gave up. He’s like the brother you never had.
"So I hear you've met Ethan. He's cool, right?" He throws his muscular arm around Ethan’s neck affectionately. "A whole snack he is. Look at him." An endearing tinge of red decorates Ethan’s cheeks, his gaze fleeing yours.
It draws a smile from you. You’re glad they’re getting along.
You tilt your head, gauging his appearance. Confusion fills you.
You’re not exactly sure what Ethan’s costume is supposed to be. A knight perhaps? Either way, it’s original and it suits him.
"Hey again," you greet.
He lifts two bashful fingers as a response, returning your smile.
"Yeah. I appreciate him helping me out."
Ethan’s chestnut gaze widens at your words.
College’s busy enough for everyone. It’s incredible of him to offer some of his free time to help you out when it doesn’t benefit him in any way.
Ethan opens his mouth as if he were about to say something but, before he can speak, someone taps you on the shoulder, beckoning your attention.
You pivot in your high heels.
Your chest floods with warmth at the sight welcoming you.
"Hey, gorgeous," Connor hums, giving you an appreciative onceover that turns your legs into jelly. His voice lowers as he approaches you. "I’ve been looking for you all night. Where have you been?"
Your heart skips a beat at his closeness, the scent of his masculine cologne and his mesmerizing blue eyes overwhelming you.
"Just ran a bit late," you mumble.
His hooded gaze takes you in as he suggests, "Well, you’re here now. Wanna go hang out in my car?"
Pursing your mouth, you hesitate.
"I…I don’t know. Is that safe? Mindy says it’s always best to stay in crowded-"
He halts your explanation with a hand under your chin. Bewildered, you gawk at him.
His pearly whites shimmer in the dusky blue and green hues saturating the room.
"Do you trust me, gorgeous?"
You blink up at him, dazed and lost in the sea of his gaze.
"Y-Yes, I do."
"I’ll keep you safe. I promise. Come on."
His hand engulfs yours as Connor begins to drag you toward the exit.
Chad’s deep, concerned voice interrupts the abrupt getaway.
"Are you sure?" His forehead creases as he inches closer. "You don’t have to do anything you don’t want. You know that, right?"
At first, you’re a bit confused.
Then you remind yourself he’s just being protective. Both he and Mindy share that trait. In fact, her attentive eyes carve a searing dent in your skin from the other side of the room.
Usually, you adore that about them, how caring they are. But right now, you find it a bit much.
Connor isn’t a threat. He’s just the guy you like, not a serial killer.
You place a placating hand on Chad’s arm.
"It’s fine. I trust him. Catch you later, okay?"
He gives a belated nod, his jaw clenching as he stares Connor down, before letting you walk away.
You wave Ethan goodbye but are somewhat dejected when he stares at you and doesn’t reply, his blank expression unreadable.
Both you and Connor step outside.
Moonlight bathes the damp pavement in silvery light as you trail behind him.
He wastes no time once you’ve reached his expensive sports car, pinning you against the hood and kissing you senseless.
"Fuck, been dying to do this ever since I saw you in that slutty costume," he purrs against your temple. His hands begin to roam over you, impatient fingers fondling your curves.
When he sneaks under your short dress and tugs at the waistband of your panties, you push against his chest.
A sudden tide of discomfort swells inside you.
"Connor…wait. This is going a little fast for me," you giggle.
Ignoring your protests, he keeps kissing you and even turns things up a notch by grabbing a fistful of your ass. You gasp.
"Just relax. I won’t hurt you, gorgeous."
His weight presses against you, a sizzling cage of need you can’t escape. Tears prick at your eyes.
"Connor, please…" you whimper.
Annoyance ripples in his tone as the grip on your rear gets firmer.
"How you’re gonna be a fucking cocktease then give me blue balls, come on, gorgeous."
His tone is light but your chest is heavy. This isn’t how tonight was supposed to go. You hoped Connor would be gentle and nice.
This isn’t nice.
And you’re starting to feel a little scared. As the taut bulge in his crotch rubs at your front, your stomach knots.
But things don’t get to wander any further.
In fact, they hit a sudden stop as Connor stills against you. Your brows knit.
As he chokes on his own breath, blood gushes from his mouth, painting the front of your costume crimson.
Your eyes widen as his head lolls before he slumps to the pavement with a heavy thud.
Time stands still when your gaze lifts.
Your heart slams against your ribcage.
A tall figure clad in black and donning a Ghostface mask is now standing before you.
The blood rushing in your veins makes your ears ring.
The stranger cocks his head, studying you for a few seconds before pouncing on Connor’s prone form like a starved hyena.
Horror-struck, you gawk as the stranger rains vicious stab after vicious stab upon Connor's writhing body. Each strike draws a shudder from you, more violent than the last and causing scarlet rivers to flow from every part of Connor.
The world becomes red.
A scream bubbles in your throat but remains trapped in it, shock striking you mute.
When Connor's body stops moving, the sickening squish of the blade twisting out of his mangled flesh reaches you.
With the knife in his hand still dripping blood, its crimson hue catching the moonlight, the killer rises to his feet.
His focus travels to you. Your insides coil, deadly anticipation gripping you as tight as a fist.
A gravelly, distorted voice rises beneath the mask.
"This is the part where you run, princess."
Right…
It’s what happens in those horror movies Mindy had you watch with her, you think. The characters run away, fighting whatever’s chasing them with all their might.
It’s the sensible thing to do.
And you want to move. You should move. But you can't.
Even breathing is toilsome, stilted whimpers and gasps spilling from your chest instead.
All you can do is peer into the pupil-less gaze of the mask as you crumble into a quivering, sobbing heap onto the pavement.
The killer inches closer and it's as if your heart jumps out of your chest.
His blade kisses the trembling flesh of your throat, right above your racing pulse.
Languid tears roll down your face as he traces your jugular.
Cool metal slices past your collarbone, to your rapidly heaving chest.
The song of the night yields to the symphony of fear echoing in your ears. Every scattered heartbeat. Every uneven breath. Every desperate sob.
A sharp stinging blooms in your delicate flesh as he carves oblong patterns on your breast with his knife.
His motions are slow and focused, as if your skin’s the canvas and his blade the brush.
Paralyzed, you don’t move. His cloaked figure bends and blurs in your misty vision, more monster than man in the scarce light provided by the street lamps.
He slants his head when he’s done, admiring his handiwork.
This must be it, you infer, the moment all of it ends.
Your eyes quake shut as you wait for the inevitable blow.
You wait… An eternity it seems.
For the blood. For the agony. For the darkness.
Yet nothing comes.
When you open your eyes, Ghostface is gone, the only nightmarish vision before you being that of Connor's body lying unmoving on the pavement.
You pay no attention to the chaos around you as you pull the thin blanket closer to your frame.
The lights of the ambulance twinkle in your hazy sight.
Amidst the chatter of shocked students standing in the street behind the yellow tape, the whispers of reassurance of Mindy and Tara fade to white noise in your ears.
Numb, you gawk as they drag Connor’s body away on a gurney.
For some silly reason, you keep expecting him to rise again, to not be dead.
Because this cannot be real.
This cannot have happened.
The police ask you a barrage of questions and you give mechanical answers. None of them help and they grow frustrated with you, sparking a heated argument between your friends and the stubborn cop.
"I’m just doing my job," he insists, raising his hands when Chad gets in his face.
If it weren’t for Detective Bailey vouching for you, you’re not entirely sure you wouldn’t be sitting in the back of a patrol car right now.
"Can’t you see the kid’s traumatized. She doesn’t know anything," he berates one his co-worker who seemed unwilling to accept your version of events.
The one where you froze and Ghostface somehow let you live with only a strangely shaped scar on your chest as a souvenir. The one the medic commented looked a little like a heart.
Absently, you pat the gauze covering the healing wound.
It's weird…but it hurts your head to ponder why this occurred. The only emotion you can process is the crippling guilt consuming you.
You’re alive while Connor's cold body is on its way to the morgue.
Your friends gather around you, their warmth chasing away the night’s chill. While Tara and Mindy sit next to you on the pavement, Chad stands protectively in front of you.
"I-I didn’t do anything, Tara. I just let him…" Your voice cracks, withering into a sob.
The arm around your shoulder gets tighter.
"Hey, don’t talk like that. It’s not your fault," she feverishly responds.
You open your mouth to argue but close it once it dawns on you that all the energy’s been drained from your body. There is none left in you.
Still, you can’t help but disagree. If it were Tara, her sister, or even Mindy, you bet they’d have fought tooth and nail instead of shrinking and crying like you did.
You’re the weak link in your group. Not smart enough, or strong enough.
The thought makes you sob harder.
Mindy rubs circles on your back.
You cast a quick glance around before your tearful gaze finds hers.
"Where’s Anika?"
"She went home. She’s not great with blood. She sends her love though."
You nod at that. If you could, you’d be home too, hugging your stuffed bear and trying your best to forget this awful night ever happened.
Chad’s irate tone startles you out of your fog.
"Speaking of people not being here… where the hell is Ethan?"
You blink up at him, confused as he and Mindy trade a pointed, heavy look.
You don’t get it.
Sure, Ethan’s new to the group, and the twins are slow to give their trust. You know that. But Ethan? He’s entirely too sweet and kind to have anything to do with this…Right?
Ethan wouldn’t. You’re sure of it.
~
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