starry eyes ✮ slashers.

chapter 007.

seven. i've waited here for you.

          He observes her, his figure camouflaged among his friends. She walks slowly, taking in everything around her. So innocent, so unaware, he thinks. Her red hair and unnatural makeup draws attention, unusual compared to the students of Woodsboro college. They rarely ever see people from out of town study there, he knew everyone would be interested in her.

"She's hot right?" His closest friend leans over his shoulder to catch a glimpse at the new girl. Her black skirt rides up her thighs as she walks and long crimson nails reach to conceal a little more of her skin.

He ignores the question at first, thinking it to be rhetorical as she finds a bench, crossing her legs to shuffle through papers in her cross-shoulder bag.

"Yeah." Billy responds, showing no amusement unlike Stu. Billy's sternly locked onto her, a predator admiring its prey. Stu's eyes follow her like a boy that's spotted his crush, a giddy feeling encasing his chest.

"Can we keep this one alive?" Stu asks without thinking and Billy swiftly jabs his elbow into the boy's abdomen.

"Would you shut up already? Are you trying to let everyone know about us?" The quick change in demeanour has Stu's heart pounding as he clutches his torso. He frowns softly, disappointed in himself. What had he been thinking?

"Sorry, Billy."

What had started with a revenge fantasy had quickly become an addiction for the two psychotic boys.

Now that the thought's in his mind, Billy can't seen to escape the thought of killing her. How her warm blood would feel slipping between his fingers, how good her limp body would feel beneath his. Her breathy whines as her life slips past her. That sweet naive pleading look she'd give him, a hand extended in attempt to save herself as he carves the knife into her chest. She'd be the perfect kill.

"Damn, what got you going so quickly? Was it the hot chick?" Stu giggles and gestures to his private area, Billy looks down and only then does he notice the desperate ache in his body. He feels sensitive, and the need is urgent. Not for sex, for violence.

He rolls his eyes at himself and reaches into his pants, tucking himself to hide the arch that had formed past his trousers. He curses himself for letting that happen. He isn't a pathetic hormonal loser. He shouldn't be acting like this.

"Yes, Stu. I want to drain her." It only took a moment for the boy to look past his innuendo and realise what Billy was actually implying. The laughter falls from Stu's face as he shakes his head quickly. His face turns pale at the thought.

"No, no, Billy, not her. You can't kill her. Kill that bitch Tatum or something, but not her please." His begging falls on death ears because the idea has already consumed him. Billy's mind is occupied by nothing but the fantasies of the girl with hair the same colour as blood. And he'd like nothing more than to drown in it.

He can't find it within himself to be irritated with Stu for speaking so openly about their dark secrets. There was no one around, not in his mind at least. It was only her, and him.

He creeps up behind her, pressing himself to her exposed form. His gloved hands crawl across her skin, grasping and clawing at her flesh. She gasps at the cool leather's feel as it drops slowly downwards of her Stomach.

Billy breaths heavily in her ear, beneath that haunting mask. He presses himself closer to her, it's only then she feels the ice-like metal he trails down her spine. The blade presses into her skin, indenting it's way down but never cutting. No, not yet.

Her head falls back to his shoulder, that hair cascading across her chest. His vision blurs it into blood and he grins, he can cope no more.

She's pinned to the ground in the blink of an eye, his hardness visible past the costume as he raises the knife above his head. Fear flickers past her eyes and he feels that familiar ecstasy light his skin on fire.

He drives the blade into her stomach, then again, then again, and again. Over and over until her guts are only concealed by slithers of skin holding her sides together, until her ribs crunch under the knife, until he's bathing in her blood.

Her whimpers never cease until he pulls back, her once innocent eyes, scared and defeated. She's in pain, he knows she is. He chooses to focus on the parts he finds much more enjoyable, her submission to him.

She had given her life, forcefully none the less. But it was his now. She was his now.

They meet eyes, occasionally as he speaks and despite having little interest in the topic, Lyra is sure to take notes down on her page.

She's so incredibly proud of him. In a week he'd adjusted from murdering people to moving town and becoming a teacher. And he's doing a great job of it too.

He presses play and a video shines onto the screen, introducing it as examples of classic cinema. Thankful they don't have to do work, everyone watched intently.

Amidst the video, there's a note dropped on Lyra's desk, she looks around but no one shows her any attention. She can't decipher who'd given it to her so she simply reads it.

"What's your favourite scary movie?" It asks and she crumples it within her palm. What an innocent question, why would no one own up to that, she thinks? Is someone trying to creep her out? They have to do a lot better than that, she chuckles.

Her boyfriend is the miner killer after-all.

The shining, she writes, leaving it on her desk and packing up her things to leave with Tom. It's the last lesson of the day and she believes it's been quite successful, despite the strange note.