Inside the mind of Billy Loomis

The final cut

The night feels electric, buzzing with the energy that only comes before something inevitable—something catastrophic. The party at Stu's house is loud, crowded, full of life. There's a sense of abandon in the air, a desperate joy masking the fear that everyone's been carrying since Casey Becker's death. It's almost poetic, really. They're all celebrating, completely unaware that the real horror is standing right among them, hidden behind friendly smiles and familiar faces.

I can feel the weight of the knife against my leg, hidden beneath my jacket. Its presence grounds me, reminds me of what's coming. Everything we've done, every piece of the puzzle we've set in motion, has led to this moment.

Sidney's here, of course, the centerpiece of this grand finale. She's sitting on the couch, laughing with her friends, her hand loosely holding a red cup. She's beautiful tonight, in that effortless way she always is—soft curls framing her face, that innocent, trusting smile lighting up her features. It almost makes me feel guilty.

Almost.

But underneath the surface, I know she's still shaken. The murders have rattled her, and even though she's trying to act normal, I can see the cracks forming. She hasn't been the same since her mother died, and I've been using that to keep her close, playing the perfect boyfriend, pretending to care.

And now, we're about to destroy whatever's left of her world.

Stu is beside me, practically bouncing on his feet. His energy is contagious, but there's something unsettling about it tonight, more unhinged than usual. His eyes keep darting to me, like he's seeking some kind of unspoken validation, some connection between us that goes deeper than the plan. I've seen it before—the way he looks at me when he thinks I'm not paying attention. It's not just excitement. It's need.

"You ready?" Stu whispers, leaning in close. I can feel his breath on my neck, the hairs on my skin standing on edge.

I nod, but my eyes are on Sidney. "Yeah. It's time."

Stu grins, that manic smile spreading across his face. He loves this—the thrill, the adrenaline. It's not just about killing for him; it's about the chaos, the performance. He's always needed an audience, someone to see him. And in some twisted way, that someone has always been me.

He nudges me with his elbow, eyes gleaming. "Think she'll cry when she realizes?"

I glance at him, my jaw tightening. His question hangs in the air, and for the first time tonight, I feel a flicker of uncertainty. Sidney's always been the goal—the final piece of our puzzle—but there's a part of me that's starting to question what happens when this is over. When we've finished the game, what's left?

I push the thought aside. Focus.

"We stick to the plan," I say, my voice low. "No mistakes."

Stu's grin falters for a moment, and I catch a glimpse of something beneath the surface—something fragile, desperate. He's been unraveling slowly, and now, with the end in sight, I can feel him slipping further. I don't know what he's expecting from me, but I can't afford distractions now.

"Don't worry, Billy," he says, trying to keep the excitement in his voice. "We're gonna be legends."

The party starts to thin out as people leave in twos and threes, drunk and oblivious, heading home before the real show begins. The clock is ticking. It's almost time.

Sidney's still here. She's sitting with Randy now, the two of them talking quietly. I can see Randy's eyes linger on her longer than they should, a flicker of something in his gaze that makes me clench my jaw. He's always had a thing for her, always hanging around like some pathetic shadow. It doesn't matter. He's not part of the plan. Not yet.