TWELVE ; PLAN B

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"Okay, boys." Monty said, rather calmly for how he'd been just seconds ago. "Time for plan B."

Billy stared at him. "Plan B? What the hell is that?"

Monty smirked. "Its this."

In a flash, Monty raised the gun at Billy, and fired.

Neither of the boys were expecting it. Stu was pressed flat against the refrigerator, staring at Billy with wide eyes full of fear.

Sputtering, Billy's knees gave way, and he slid down the side of the counter until he hit the floor. His hand covered the new bullet hole in his side, new crimson liquid staining his hands at a fast rate. He looked up at Monty, teeth gritted and coated in blood.

Monty gave him a look. "Aw, don't look so heart broken, Billy boy. It wasn't personal."

Billy just glared up at him, chest now heaving. "You fucker." He spat.

Monty frowned and crouched down in front of him. "Oh, no, Billy." He tskd his tongue. "That's you, remember? Because...you fucked her, yeah?" He pointed at Sidney's presumed dead body across the kitchen from them. "And she died because of it." Monty smirked again. "But you broke the rules too, Billy. You had sex...so you have to die...just like her..." He patted Billy's face. "and that precious little virgin Molly has to die too, now." Monty stood up.

"W-wait," Stu sputtered out. Monty turned to him. "You said you weren't gonna kill her."

"I said I wasn't gonna kill her tonight." Monty told the other boy. Then he smirked evily. "Never said I wasn't gonna kill her tomorrow night." He raised his gun again, this time aimed for Stu's dread filled face.

Before Monty could pull the trigger, they were interrupted by the phone on the counter above Billy ringing.

Monty brought the gun down and picked the phone up off the reciever. "Hello?" He hissed.

"Are you alone in the house?" Answered the familiar voice of the Ghostface killer.

The voice of Molly Birist.

Monty fumed. "Bitch! You fucking bitch! Where the fuck are you!?"

"Not so fast!" Said the modified voice of Molly. "We're gonna play a little game. Its called-" The voice changed to Molly's normal, pissed off tone. "-Guess who just called the police and reported your sorry motherfucking ass!"

Monty yelled in anger. He turned to look back at Stu, who had gotten to his knees and was leaning on the countertop tiredly.

"Find her, you dipshit!" Monty demanded, pointing the gun at him. "Get up!"

"I can't, Monty!" Stu whimpered, leaning his head on his arm. He closed his eyes when he felt the gun barrel on his neck. "Billy cut me too deep...I think I'm dyin' here, man!"

Monty snarled. "Pussy." He hissed. He set the phone over the other boy's shoulder. "Keep her on the phone, you fuck-rag." He said before walking into the livingroom.

Stu looked down at Billy below him. They were both bleeding out, and they both knew it. Choking, Stu brought a hand down to Billy's level. Mustering his last bit of strength, Billy raised a hand of his own and clasped Stu's. They held each other's tightly for comfort.

Billy turned his head to look up at Stu. "Talk to her." He said, nodding at the phone hanging over the taller boy's shoulder.

Glancing at it as well, Stu groaned, and used his free hand to place the phone at his face. "Hello?" He asked weakly.

𝐕𝐈𝐑𝐆𝐈𝐍 𝐌𝐎𝐋𝐋𝐘 || stu macherWhere stories live. Discover now