REALISTIC FICTION | s.k

PART III

REALISTIC FICTION, BY EMPLOYEEOFSHADYSIDE.

warnings for strong language and 1994, 1978 + 1666 spoilers.

"WHAT AMBULANCE DOESN'T HAVE FUCKING BANDAGES?!"

THERE WAS small chatter, with Kate and Josh sat outside, talking.

From what you had gathered, your role as a character in this story, definitely unintended, had lived as a background character who knew the cast. You were [Name] [Last Name] with a Shadysider mother and a Sunnyvaler father who had divorced when you were born, and you spent weekends and summers with your father.

The cast knew you solely because you had been in atleast one of their classes since the moment you had entered your education. A life of a background character, however simple, still meant they could be sucked into the plotline at any moment.

"Shouldn't you, er, get that fixed?" The blonde boy said, pointing at the dripping on your neck.

"What?" You turned to the boy in question. "Oh, you're right." You'd forgotten (momentarily, but remembering the wound made it hurt for the first time) through the madness of trying not to kill the movie's main characters with your truly unprecedented appearance.

Earlier, Sam and Deena had made Kate stop at the sheriffs station, to get help. It wouldn't do much for you to step into the scene and tell them that the man they'd gone to wouldn't have believed them, much less help them, but, well, it's a movie.

You were unsure with the rules of whatever this was, and you were worried that if you'd cut the movie short through what you knew that things would change that you didn't like.

The one thing that stuck out to you, in a faded particular, was something about the second and third movie. You were missing something. And you were starting to know that.

"Could — could you get the bandages in the first aid kit?" You asked Simon, pressing a hand against your stinging neck.

Ryan (you'd decided to use their reals names. Something about calling them something so brutal about their last moments, moments that you knew they had zero control over, put a realization on you) had sliced the side of your neck just lightly enough you weren't dead, but deep enough that a large amount of blood was gushing down your neck.

"Sure, of course," Simon nodded with little persuasion, filing through the small kit for the familiar wrap of bandages.

You squeezed your eyes shut, breathing a little heavier. Blood loss really wanted to fuck you up about now.

"Shit. [Name] there — there aren't any bandages."

You swallowed, taking in a shallow intake of breath, "What ambulance doesn't have fucking bandages?!"

Simon blinked, looking you up and down. "This one?"

"I'm — I think I may be losing more blood than I thought." You said, trying to elevate yourself.

Simon opened his mouth to respond, though instead making a sort of 'oookay what the hell do i say now?' kind of face.

Suddenly, it seemed he got a lightbulb moment. "There's a pharmacy down the street, if that helps?"

"And if it's closed?" You pushed harder against your wound, hissing in pain.

"We can break in." He scratched his neck, "It's, uh, typical Shadyside stuff, y'know? Not like anyone here has security cameras, right?"

"...Right."

𖥔 𖥔 𖥔

"Jesus, Kalivoda, take me out for dinner first." You snorted, feeling Simon's hands on your side freeze momentarily with embarrassment.

The two of you had set off with your arms crisscrossed against eachother's shoulders to go grab some bandages from old O'neillys pharmacy. The store, obviously, as it was way past the senile owners bedtime, was closed.

Heroically, Simon found a rock and burst the glass window through, unlocking the door.

You'd found bandages and promptly spent a few minutes (and a few minutes too long) figuring out how to wrap the stark white bandages round your neck.

"Simon! You're choking me!" You coughed out.

"Well, I thought you liked that." He said cheekily.

When the bandages had stained with red, you'd finally finished with it.

Now, the two of you were getting back to the ambulance with little interruption of any killers. You'd altered events, again, as Simon should've went to take the most idiotic piss of his life, see an attractive girl and almost die, but maybe this time it was for the better.

Though, movie's would be boring if things just ended there, right?

The two of you got a few streets from the pharmacy when you'd seen a cop car drive past you two. Normal, considering the crime rate in the belittled town.

What wasn't normal was the fact you'd totally fucking forgotten that the movie progressed. You'd been just ways away from the next scene, and jesus, Ruby Lane sat right beneath the shrubbery, an innocent tune playing on her red lined lips.

You dropped your arms from Simon's shoulders, sighing and walking up to the 60s woman. You'd rather Simon maybe not die, as well as you, but you'd been battered and bruised enough that you were basically a punching shield. Spare your favourite characters, movie, please?

"Hey?" You said in a monotone, walking up to and crouching down to Ruby's level, "Are you, er," You racked your head for what Simon had said in the original timeline, "Are you alright?"

You braced yourself for the cut at your legs.

"Motherf—"

You'd underestimated how much that hurt. "[Name]!" Simon called out, running after you and Ruby.

Ruby had you pinned to the floor, your hand on her weaponized grip. Simon pulled Ruby by the hair, making her neck turn freakishly backwards toward him. In surprise, he dropped his hands from her straight locks.

"Simon —!" The scene had flipped into it's original canon, making you roll your eyes with a familiar indignation.

Your hands found themselves wrapping around Ruby's neck. She continued with her struggle against Simon's own hands, before you jutted back her neck with a snap.

She kept still.

Before she fucking moved. Again. You didn't know what the fuck would kill these things (even though you're positive you should, but there's... something there. Like a fog. You can't remember anything past this movie..) but you knew if you didn't get the bitch off soon, the both of you would die.

"[NAME]! DUCK!"

On auto response you pulled away from Ruby's back looking behind you. Deena stood, hands holding something you couldn't make out in the dark.

Your question was answered, however, when an earshattering bullet piercing through the air, several times, in fact, dropping Ruby's body onto the ground.

You swiped a finger across your lips, "I've got killer blood on me."