𝗹𝗼𝘃𝗲 𝘀𝘂𝗰𝗸𝘀 [80s/90s/00s imagines & more]

➪ghostface pt.2

you lived close to a friend of yours and decided to run there, knowing you would be safe and able to call the police.

you knocked on the door as hard as you could as soon as you got close enough. you knocked non-stop for about thirty seconds before yelling, "billy, are you there? it's me, y/n! please let me in! help me!"

there was no answer. you groaned in frustration, instantly regretting it as a wave of pain went through the gash under your chin.

"billy, come on, please open the door!" you cried out desperately, ready to fall down on the porch and let yourself bleed out. you knew that since the wound on your neck wasn't too deep, it would be awhile before death, but you were close to giving in and accepting that. it was better than having to run some more for help.

you leaned your head onto billy loomis's front door, knocking some more very lightly because of a lack of energy. the screaming was making your stab wound hurt and your adrenaline fade.

"please, billy," you whispered in defeat. where could he possibly be this late at night?

you don't know how long it was that you stood there with your hand covering your neck and your head resting on the front door — maybe only a minute — but eventually that door opened and you fell forward into billy's arms.

"woah, y/n. um, are you alright? what... uh... what are you doing here?" he asked, helping you stand up straight as he led you inside. you noticed his breathing was faster than normal. maybe you had woken him up and he had to run down the stairs to see what was the matter.

"billy!" you said as you stopped walking and turned to hug billy.

you felt safe in his arms, and it didn't matter what had happened because you were here with him now, safe in his arms.

"y/n, calm down," he said, rubbing his hand over your head and pulling you closer to him.

his words sent an uneasy feeling through your body, and you pulled away. "billy, i- i'm covered in blood! what do you mean calm down?"

"okay, okay! just relax, you're safe now. the killers gone," he said, turning around to lead you to the kitchen where there was a first-aid kit.

you were reluctant to move with him, and he turned to look at you, confused. "what now?"

"billy, i never said anything about a killer..." you said nervously, hoping that you had and just forgot.

"uh, yeah you did. come on, you're losing blood. you'll start hallucinating," he said quickly, trying to remind you what was more urgent.

"i did?" you asked, still unsure.

"yeah. even if you didn't, i think it's pretty obvious. you have blood all on you," he said.

"oh," you said, leaving it at that.

he stopped and let you lean against the counter as he pulled a first-aid kit out.

"billy, shouldn't i go to a hospital?" you asked.

"huh? oh, no. this is fine for now. he didn't cut you that deep, did he? stupid bastard," he muttered.

"um, no, but billy i think i broke my arm, too," you said, remembering why your arm was still hurting.

"right. here, let me see," he said, grabbing your right arm.

"ow, ow, ow!" you said.

he apologized as he examined your arm.

before you could let him gaslight you, you tried something by saying, "uh, billy, it's my other arm."