REESE

- 14 -

This rate... school's about as dead as those drifters removed from the basement about a day ago; what were their names? Hell if I know. I mean, damn near every piece that I've seen carries at least one faceless face, so here's two more. It's just another cliché to add to the list. An itty bitty cliché. Anyhowwwwww, back to the shitsho -- I mean, back to the story.

"Like what you see?"

"I have no idea what you're talking about, Loomis ~"

This wasn't the 1st time that Reese found herself sneaking a peak at Billy's ass and it sure as all Hell wouldn't be the last time. I mean... it isn't like Reese hadn't seen way more than that, already. It isn't like Reese even has to sneak. It is a nice ass. And, speaking of The Devil, the owner of said nice ass finally climbed back into bed after about a minute of fiddling with the TV and reclaimed his spot in Reese's waiting arms, his puffy, slightly-bruised lips making their way to her neck to add to the assortment of hickies that littered the skin, there. How many rounds had they gone again, today? Hm.

Billy let out a yelp and stopped what he'd been doing to look at Reese, the latter not even trying to conceal her guilt, her hand now resting on his lower-back and her face turning red. ... ouch! One would think Billy'd be used to it, but I guess not. I guess not. In one, swift movement, Billy had pinned Reese's hands above her head and stared her dead in the eye, just... silent. Well... shit.

Reese gulped. "Um... can I help you?"

"Yeah."

* * *

Staple remover in his blood-stained hand, Roman took a step back to survey the scene, the body of one John Milton slumped over his desk as his blood pooled around his head, his face near mangled beyond recognition! ... Roman smiled. John's bloodshot eye that had become lodged on the blade slid off and onto the floor, below, rolling towards the desk and out of sight, but it wasn't out of mind. ... Roman's little smile grew. Grew. Grew.

"You had it coming." Roman stated, simply. "You did. You really did."

The clock read 12AM. Roman placed the staple remover on the desk before taking a step back to survey the scene one more time; isn't it gre -- it is. It sure is. John Milton is to blame for all of it, after all. It is John that laid his filthy, filthy hands on Maureen all those years, ago, and caused her to become the very monster that Reese and Neil would come to know her as while Sidney simply sat there, blind as blind can be. Blind.

* * *

Pulling the blanket up to her chest, Tatum took a moment to catch her breath, internally chastising herself for what she'd just done and what she was about to do. Beads of sweat trickled down her face as she turned to face one cocky Stu, who had since dialed Billy to talk about God knows what -- OK? --, and couldn't help but to glare at the back of his head, chastising him, as well. What was supposed to be a simple chat over coffee to talk about their relationship turned into a fuck fest in the blink of an eye, the coffee since forgotten in the kitchen; ... what monster would waste perfectly good coffee!?

Tatum knew this relationship wasn't exactly the healthiest, but... she just couldn't bring herself to end it. She loves Stu, but does Stu love her? The last few months or so had been nothing but chaos, chaos, and more chaos, and Tatum was at her wit's end -- it didn't help that there was currently a deranged serial killer on the loose, a deranged serial killer way-too close for comfort!

Speaking of serial killers... there's no way in Hell. There's just no way in Hell... is there? It's safe to say that Stu and Billy's behaviour hadn't gone unnoticed, with Tatum often finding herself wondering if they could be Ghost Face. It started as hushed whispers before progressing to random, late night outings and the duo just up and disappearing for days at a time at times... only to brush their friends' collective concern off with a shrug. The only one that would get ANY kind of explanation was Reese! Reese and her half-brother, Roman! Like... not even their girlfriends!

What's up with that? Tatum never took her eyes off of Stu. Stu never took his eyes off of the ceiling, completely and utterly engrossed in the conversation. They were probably talking about how Stu "mysteriously" went missing on the night that Reese and Roman were attacked and almost killed by Ghost Face and popped up about a week later acting, once again, completely different. What about Randy being looked at as a possible suspect after those bodies were found... at his house? Maybe even Reese and Billy being an item? The possibilities are endless!

Tatum knew she should let Dewey know about her suspicions, but would he believe her? What about Mr. Presco -- wait. He wasn't home. Fuck. Fuck. FUCK! Fuck. Fuck. <What should I do!?> Tatum wanted to scream into the void. Huh? Stu hung up and locked eyes with Tatum, oblivious to her turmoil, but that's nothing new.

* * *

"Hey!" Roman called out into the quiet house. "I'm back!"

"Hey!" Reese and Billy called back in unison from somewhere in said quiet house.

Roman headed straight to his room, eager to rid himself of John's blood as soon as possible, the idea of it being present making him sick to his stomach. Luckily for Roman, his clothes were spotless, John's vile, vile, VILE blood having sought and having taken refuge on the scrubs that he'd worn and burned immediately after. It had to be done. It just had to be done. It had to be done and not just for him, but everyone that he'd defiled.

"... I need a nap."