𝐅𝐈𝐍𝐀𝐋 𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋

𝕔𝕙𝕒𝕡𝕥𝕖𝕣 𝕗𝕚𝕗𝕥𝕖𝕖𝕟

 You snatched the phone off of the end table and held it up to your ear, cradling the pistol against your chest. You had no idea who was on the other end, but you had a message that needed to be heard. "Please, you need to help me! My friend is dead," you pleaded, before remembering what Randy had said about Tatum. "Two..two of my friends are dead. Please, you need to send someone!"

"Don't cry, (Y/N)..."

With a shriek, you dropped the phone and watched as the batteries exploded out of the back panel on impact. Randy was still pounding his fists on the other side of the door, begging for you to let him in. You gulped in a breath of air and curled in on yourself. You were at a complete loss over what to do. Should you just risk it and let Randy back inside?

Just as you were about to swallow your fears and unlock the door, you heard a heavy thud at the very top of the stairs. You spun around quickly, gun in hand, just to see Billy emerging from the shadows of the upstairs hallway, dazed and blood-soaked.

He sauntered carefully down the stairs with a firm grip on the railing, wincing in pain every so often. Just as he reached the bottom step, you threw yourself against his chest and wrapped your arms tightly around his middle. "Oh my God, Billy. I thought...I thought you were..."

As you weeped, you clung to the front of his shirt and felt as he brought his hand up to stroke the back of your hair. You took another deep breath in through your nose and your eyes shot open. Billy didn't smell like blood. Instead, he smelled strongly of sugar and maple syrup.

"I'm alright," he grunted, voice rough and nearly at a growl. He shifted his weight and used you as a crutch as he slumped closer to the door. "We gotta...we gotta get help." He looked down at your hand and his tongue jutted out from between his red stained lips. "Give me the gun, (Y/N)."

Without questioning it, you raised your trembling hand to pass the pistol over to Billy, turning it around so that it was handle-first. As he took it, he checked to make sure the safety was off before pulling you close and kissing you firmly on the forehead. "Shh," he whispered. "You're alright."

Billy pulled you behind him and readied the gun in his hand before reaching out and unlocking the massive front door, tugging it open. Randy slipped in through the small gap and frantically slammed it back shut behind him, locking it once more. He moved frantically, like a frightened rodent. Stu was nowhere to be seen.

"Stu's flipping out!" He shouted desperately. "He's gone mad!"

You wanted to bypass Billy and apologize to the poor guy for keeping him locked out. Now that you were more level-headed, you knew it never could have been Randy behind the murders.

An agonizingly slow grin creeped up onto Billy's face as he levelled the gun between Randy's ribs. "We all go a little mad sometimes, Meeks," he chuckled darkly, the gun clicking as he drew his thumb back and rested his finger on the trigger. Just as soon as it appeared, his smile dropped into a dead glare. "I thought I told you to stay in your own fucking lane."

Randy squinted in confusion right as Billy pulled hard on the trigger. The blast threw Randy's body back against the wall and he slid into a heap on the floor just outside the living room. You cried out in terror as Billy lowered the smoking gun. "Anthony Perkins," he sighed with a glint of pride in his voice. "That's from Psycho, but you probably already knew that."

He turned back to you with an expression so calm that it was like he never shot Randy at all. He smiled innocently, albeit with his average level of cockiness, and continued to slink forward until he had cornered you against the hall closet. Your back pressed into the wooden door and you could feel your heartbeat in your fingertips.