The Devils Bargain | stuilly | billyxstu | stuxbilly

Chapter 11

Sidney settled into her dorm room, seeking solace in a non-horror movie that Randy had incessantly hyped—a big, talked-about film that Sidney wasn't all that interested in when Randy first brought it up but decided to give it a chance if it only meant Randy would get off her back about it. Surprisingly, it wasn't as awful as she had expected. Leaning back against the cushions, her bowl of popcorn shuffling as she moved, Sidney tried to immerse herself in the storyline, attempting to find a semblance of normalcy.

Sidney's enthusiasm had waned with movies; she was always a book person anyway, but she had found she couldn't watch movies without falling into a dark tunnel of memories. The reel of her life unfurled like a twisted film, casting her as the unwilling protagonist.

She tried hard not to let her past experiences dictate her preferences and dislikes. However, movies remained a tender spot. The once-cherished moments of curling up in her bed and sharing a movie with Billy haunted her.

It was an unbearable truth, knowing it was all a facade. Every tender moment, every whisper of affection, was nothing but an illusion. She wished for him to have been cruel, to make it easier to despise him when loneliness crept in, and in the end, he was, but that didn't make the other times any easier to pretend they meant nothing to her. But she couldn't shake the wish for things to have been different. Hanging out with Stu, Billy, Tatum and Randy—the essence of her cherished memories—is now stained by the duo's actions.

She was shoveling some sweet popcorn into her mouth when her phone began ringing. The buzz fills the room as white noise against the music of the movie. Sidney had grown more cautious about answering calls since the copycat killer emerged. However, after enduring nearly a week and a half of nerve-wracking phone calls—only to discover they were from friends or pesky telemarketers and, unfortunately, every so often, a prank call—she gradually resumed answering with a sense of ease.

Following Randy's assault, a chilling stillness settled over the college. It wasn't a serene calm but more of a suspenseful limbo. Despite the police's belief that the ordeal had ended, Sidney and Randy were not so easily settled. They understood that closure would only come with a final, decisive blow to the fucker's brain.

Randy, persistent and anxious, had led them into countless meetings, emphasizing survival and 'the rules that come with the revival of the killer.' Sidney struggled to accept Randy's panicked claim that Stu and Billy had somehow resurfaced; breathing like a bullet to the brain was something any normal person could just get back up from.

It didn't sound real. Real life is not a horror movie. People don't just 'come back to life' and they don't attack the new killers, saving someone who, for all intents and purposes, was on their kill list. Sidney didn't want to believe him, and yet, when she looked into his eyes, all she saw was fear. Whatever or whoever Randy saw, it was real. Maybe not two dead serial killers, but something tangible, and if it was real enough for Randy, it was real enough for her as well.

As Sidney lifted her phone to her ear, she continued munching on popcorn, her attention divided between the increasingly gripping movie and the call. "Hello?"

A slow, unnerving exhale echoed down the line, unsettling but not quite frightening. Though very uncommon, receiving calls with just heavy breathing had become part of her daily—or rather nightly—routine, adding to the annoyance she faced regularly.

"Been a long time." The voice, the typical ghostly baritone, resonated on the line. Sidney no longer shivered at its sound. Despite the ominous implication, these ghost-face calls had become an almost daily occurrence, a chilling but familiar routine.

They were boring now. Just another person hoping to get a reaction because they just love the new Stab movie and think it's hilarious to prank someone who had to deal with what they think is fiction. They were all disgusting in their way, but she had gotten over getting angry about it.

At first, Sidney wanted to change her number; she did so a few times, but people just kept getting it back. She didn't know how, but having the call reader helped her significantly so as not to be tricked again.

Sidney grabbed her call reader, not breaking her gaze off her TV until she had to look over the name and the number that was pinged with the call. "Bobby Robert, 328-555-384"

"Two first names? That's unfortunate." Sidney put the call reader back, turning back to her TV, and readjusting her bowl with the phone resting between her jaw and shoulder.

"If you want to prank someone, don't choose someone who gets these calls every other day." Sidney's words escaped with a yawn, anticipating the panicked reaction of a teenager on the other end. Instead, silence greeted her.

The caller was probably in a frenzy, scrambling to navigate the potential trouble that prank calls could bring. Not everyone dared to persist after being named, but not everyone fell into the category of a harmless fan. There were disturbed individuals undeterred by her identification of them; some even found it oddly appealing. Yet, they usually didn't persist when threatened with police involvement.

"That's a fancy trick you have there."

Sidney hummed, shifting to sit up and pausing the movie she was watching because, apparently, Bobby wasn't ready to hang up yet. "Yeah, well, it helps Bob."

"I was curious what his name was."

Sidney frowned. "Who's name?"

"The name of the guy I killed... This is his phone." Their sentence came out slow and innocent. As if just passing a casual conversation. Just another connection to the conversation and not an admission of murder. Sidney laughed nervously, now questioning herself. Was this guy serious, or was this a way to try and deflect the fact that she now knew his name? "Sure. Who is this then?" Sidney cursed the way her voice cracked, but there was something in the way they spoke that was different from her usual prank call.

"I think you know that one, but let's not focus on who I am."

"Let's talk about where I am."

A sense of déjà-vu washed over Sidney, jolting her upright onto her knees. Placing her bowl on the nearby table, she scanned her room swiftly, searching for the nearest possible weapon. An unsettling feeling lingered over her shoulders, no longer feeling safe. Embarrassment for overreacting seemed preferable to the risk of facing an imminent threat.

She wasn't entirely alone; Hallie rested in her bedroom, sound asleep. Sidney hesitated, unsure if this warranted disturbing her roommate. Concern lingered about whether this was merely her heightened caution or a genuine cause for alarm. Sidney debated whether to wake Hallie, hesitant to risk embarrassment, especially given Hallie's existing impression of her as overly paranoid.

Early in her prank calls, she remembers scrambling to find help, screaming about how they were back, only to find out it was some stupid kid trying to have a laugh with his friends. "You remember that line, right, Sidney?" The voice went slower, nostalgic. The way they said her name made her want to run and hide. They spoke her name with so much concealed hate, hiding behind some kind of fake friendliness that meant nothing but to make her uncomfortable, and she hated that it worked.