xviii. jealousy, jealousy

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🏕🖇 ₊˚ˑ༄ؘ   ─── 𝒔𝒂𝒗𝒆 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒕𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒔𝒂𝒄𝒕 𝒐𝒏𝒆

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🏕🖇 ˚ˑؘ   ─── 𝒔𝒂𝒗𝒆 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒕𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒔
𝒂𝒄𝒕 𝒐𝒏𝒆. nick goode, fear street

 nick goode, fear street

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CHAPTER EIGHTEEN❛ jealousy, jealousy ❜

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CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
jealousy, jealousy





























BILLIE WOULD LIKE YOU TO KNOW THAT seeing a dead body on a crime show on TV, is nothing like the real thing. Because when those end credits roll, and you lean over for the remote, all you really saw was some plastic mannequin covered in DIY fake blood. At the end of the day, it's no more than special effects.

This blood was thick. And it was real. This body was no plastic cut-out, but it was a real, limp body, lying face down, encircled with the oozing red liquid that made Billie's skin crawl. The entire cabin looked like it had been hosed down with blood; the walls were drenched in body parts, Billie couldn't even name. It was like a scene out of a horror film. Except for this time, this was no special effects. This time, she could smell the gore that was smeared along the floorboards, and see every cut and wound inflicted on the poor boy's dead body, that the crappy 1970s TV fuzzed out. Nothing could prepare anyone for that kind of scene.

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