Tear You Apart || Billy Loomis & Stu Macher ✓

𝟷𝟸| 𝐈𝐭'𝐬 𝐋𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐂𝐡𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐦𝐚𝐬

Friday, September 27, 1996
7:30 am

"Similarly to Y/n Orth, Sidney Prescott escaped a vicious attack last night from the same masked-man who murdered Steven Orth and Casey Becker only two nights prior," The male news reporter on the TV announced as you entered the kitchen. "She is the daughter of Maureen Prescott, who was brutally killed last year when the convicted murderer, Cotton Weary, broke into their home—"

"It's never gonna stop, is it?" Sidney asked as Dewey shut off the television.

Tatum began to pour herself some cereal as you sat down beside her at the small round table. When she finished, she passed you the box before grabbing the milk.

"The station called, Billy was released. His cellular bill was found clean." Dewey disclosed, seating himself across from Sidney.

Guilt sparked in Sidney's conscious at the — what should've been relieving — news, imbuing an unshakable queasiness that left her looking quite ill.

"So, you're certain he wasn't the one who made those calls?" You asked for reassurance, and Dewey nodded.

The weight on your chest seemed to melt away, knowing Billy wasn't the culprit. However, that meant the killer was still out there lurking...

"That's a good thing, right? Sid, your boyfriend isn't the killer." Tatum said, nudging the brunette's shoulder. Sidney did not seem comforted by this.

You, too, were beginning to feel nauseous. You stirred your cereal around, unable to stomach any food as you thought about Billy. How you chose not to believe him when he pleaded with you at the station last night. He was not going to be happy with either of you.

You felt even worse when thinking of Steve and Casey. Whoever it was that killed them, that sick fuck was taunting you. You desperately wanted to know what his motive was, why he was making these late night calls like an absolute menace.

You were doing mental jumping jacks, trying to grasp at an understanding, to find some sort of conclusion.

"Yes, the real murderer is still out there somewhere which means I'll be driving you girls to school today," Dewey said, snapping you out of your internal spiral.

Nearly twenty minutes after departing from the Riley Residence, Dewey's patrol vehicle rolled to a smooth stop as he parked near the curb of Woodsboro High.

Dewey stepped out, scanning the area as it was just as crowded with students, police, and reporters as yesterday. The three of you climbed out after him, and Dewey noticed the apprehensive look on Sidney's face. "Don't worry, Sid. It's school. You'll be safe here." He assured.

Sidney managed a weak smile as his words did very little to comfort her.

Just as she pulled her bag over her shoulder, a microphone was shoved in her face by a female reporter with an asymmetrical bob. "So, how does it feel to almost be brutally butchered?"

"Hey!" Dewey guided the woman back. "Leave her alone."

"People want to know. They have the right to know!" She shouted as you, Sidney, and Tatum huddled close together, maneuvering through the crowd.

"Y/n! Y/n!" A couple of other journalists tried approaching you with microphones and cameras. "What're your thoughts on the killer? How did it feel to witness your brother's savage murder?"

"How do you think, blockhead?" Tatum shoved the camera out of your face, flipping the reporters off.

You gave her an appreciative smile as she put a protective arm around you while walking past the orange-and-white barricades which impeded non-students.