𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐩𝐞𝐫 𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐣𝐞𝐜𝐭

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐓𝐰𝐨 ~ 𝙔𝙤𝙪 𝙘𝙖𝙣'𝙩 𝙝𝙞𝙙𝙚 𝙞𝙩, 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙢𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩 𝙖𝙨 𝙬𝙚𝙡𝙡 𝙚𝙢𝙗𝙧𝙖𝙘𝙚 𝙞𝙩

"Turn on the tv, will you?" She said as she threw herself on the vast couch. He was about to scoot closer towards her but she gently pushed him away and gestured towards the flat screen.

"What the hell do you want with the tv?"

"I want to watch a movie, genius. Now would you please turn it on?"

"Fine", he scooted off the couch and walked towards the tv; he grabbed the remote and turned it on.

"Give it to me", he threw the remote control and she caught it swiftly. She decided to flip through the channels before she turned on the PS4 to plug in a movie. Channels zipped past as he sat back down next to her and placed an arm on her shoulder.

"Move it or lose it, Billy".

"I'll take my chances", he smirked.

She continued to flip through the channels and settled on the news. His eyebrow quirked up in a questioning manner. She shrugged her shoulders.

"Breaking news", the newscaster began. He was standing outside of a large home.

"This oughta be good", she said in an unamused tone.

"Two people were found murdered in a quiet home on the outskirts of Woodsboro...".

"A murder? In Woodsboro?" She quirked forward; readjusted her seating position, her interest was piqued.

".... Casey Becker and Steve Orth".

"Why does that name ring a bell?" she asked Billy.

"Beats me".

".....Their bodies were severely mutilated".

"That's a first".

".... The police have no leads thus far".

"Of course they don't", she said as she turned on the PS4 and switched the channels. She got up from her seat and rifled through the enviable pile of horror movies.

"The conjuring or .... Friday the 13th?" She asked.

He looked at the DVDs with disinterest. "How about neither?" He inspected the arm of the leather couch and sighed loudly; he appeared to be a million miles away. He looked as if he had the weight of the world on his shoulders and he was unable to find a way to dump it.

"What's on your mind, dear?" she said in a gentle mocking tone; she sounded like a concerned housewife. "You look so far away", she rested a cold hand on his arm. He shivered slightly. Her hands were always cold; she frequently joked about being a cold-blooded animal.

"Don't worry your pretty little head about it".

"Spit it out".

"Don't worry about it, I mean it", he said forcefully. It was clear that he had wanted her to drop it.

"Fine, but I don't feel like watching you sulk around my place, Debbie downer", she rolled her eyes and vacated her seat. She walked towards the refrigerator and swung the door open; she rifled through the contents of the ice box in order to keep herself occupied.

"Maybe you should go", she said finally.

"You're kicking me out?" He asked, bemused.

"Sure, if that's what you want to call it".

"Fine, happy to leave", he said forcefully with a mock smile on his face. "Glad to do it". He grabbed his car keys from the table, walked towards the foyer, opened the door and slammed it loudly on his way out.

"Always so touchy".

She sat back down on the couch and turned off the PS4, the tv reverted back to the original channel, the news report. They were still reporting the murders that took place a couple of hours ago, Casey Becker and Steve Orth. Two young adults murdered and mutilated, their youth stripped away, their lives ended before they even began. Must be so sad but she doubted the fact that anyone in this town was feeling any sorrow for these two. The respectable folks of Woodsboro must be buzzing all around by now. This must be the crime of the decade, or the century, depending on who you ask. Randy must be giddy, unable to rest in one place, bouncing from one wall to the other in excitement and anticipation. It would be a lie if she claimed that she felt nothing, she did feel something. But was it good or bad? Excitement or sorrow? Anticipation or apprehension? Will the killer strike again or was this the end of his artwork? Only time will tell.