𝕊𝕎𝔼𝔼𝕋ℍ𝔼𝔸ℝ𝕋 | B.L & S.M

10 | B.L

PROMPT: Billy visited you for the first time after 2 years.

🔪🩸⛓️🪓💀🍷👻 ☎️🚬❤️‍🩹🃏🥀🕯️

Two years after the Woodsboro massacre, [Y/N] had managed to build a new life. Windsor College wasn't the haven she'd imagined, but she'd found some stability.

Being a nursing student kept her busy; there was something oddly comforting about having her mind occupied by books, exams, and shifts in the simulation labs.

And then there was Mickey, her boyfriend, who brought a thrill to her life with his charm, intellect, and unpredictable personality. The past was supposed to be behind her, locked away along with memories of Woodsboro.

But that all changed one night.

[Y/N] had just finished a particularly grueling study session and was unwinding in her small off-campus apartment, nestled in the heart of Windsor.

She was halfway through her coffee when she heard a knock on the door, a quick, frantic tap that immediately unsettled her.

Mickey wasn't supposed to come over tonight, and her friends wouldn't drop by unannounced this late.

She cautiously approached the door, her hand hesitating on the doorknob. She took a deep breath and opened it a crack, peeking through.

"Billy?"

It felt like time had warped. Standing there, disheveled, with dried blood on his face and clothes, was Billy Loomis. Her childhood friend. The boy who had once been her entire world, the boy who had been the center of the Woodsboro massacre and presumed dead after the ordeal.

Seeing him here, in front of her, was like a scene ripped from her worst nightmare—or maybe her wildest dream.

"[Y/N]... please," he rasped, clutching his side as he leaned heavily against the doorframe.

"Billy, what—?" she stammered, struggling to process the sight. Her first instinct was to slam the door, to block out the insanity, but she found herself frozen, drawn to the frantic look in his eyes. His hand reached for her, and against all logic, she let him stumble inside.

He sagged onto her couch, breathing heavily. She shut the door quickly, casting anxious glances around her empty apartment. "What are you doing here?" Her voice trembled, torn between anger and something she wasn't ready to acknowledge. "You're supposed to be dead. Gone. Billy, what the hell are you doing?"

He looked up at her, his gaze burning with an intensity she'd almost forgotten. "I didn't come here to drag you back into anything, but... [Y/N], I had no choice. I've been tracking someone. Someone dangerous." His gaze was heavy, full of memories and hidden meanings.

Her head spun. The last thing she needed was Billy back in her life with his mysteries and violent baggage. "Billy, you can't just show up like this—"

"You're not safe." His voice was sharp, snapping her back to the present. "Do you even know who Mickey really is?"

The mention of Mickey hit her like a slap. She crossed her arms, a sliver of defensiveness creeping in. "Don't you dare—"

"Listen to me, please," he interrupted, sitting up, wincing as he adjusted himself. "I know he's your boyfriend, and I know I have no right to be here, but Mickey isn't who you think he is. He's been... he's been copying me and Stu. You heard about those killings across campus?"