#this fic was supposed to be horror related for Halloween | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

banditthewriter · 6 months

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Run, Run, Run - Billy Russo

Here we have 2023's Halloween fic! I haven't written much fic this year and I can't promise that I'll write much/any next year, but I wanted to make sure I got this done. It's not edited or proof read beyond brief skims so sorry about that. It's also 17.2k so.

Warnings: Murder. Blood. Depiction of serial killer attacks. Discussion of scars and grief and fear.

Summary: The reader survives an attack by a known serial killer when they are in high school. Only the attacks start up again when they are older and in another state. Is it related to the first attacks? Is it a copy cat? And more importantly...is it someone the reader knows?

As always, thank you for reading and I hope you enjoy!

[gif is mine]

-----

You hadn’t been to many parties since you started high school, but the ones you had gone to had always gotten rowdy. Spilled out all over a house except for any rooms marked Occupied or Out of Bounds. The front and back yards would be covered in cans and bottles and cups. And quite a few people passed out.

This party might be in full swing, but it was nothing like the last parties you’d gone to. There were a lot of people, but everyone was squished into the basement den. A few went up into the kitchen in sets of two or three or more, but they all came right back after they got a refill or more snacks.

As it was, there were only about twenty people at this party. Once upon a time that’d be laughed at, considered a failure of a party, but this time? You were honestly surprised to see this many people at the graduation party most people had been looking forward to.

Why were things different this time? Simple.

Over the last three weeks, seven people had been brutally murdered in your small, sleepy coastal town. Four teenagers, one parent, one police officer, and one unlucky Good Samaritan. Everyone said that nothing like this had ever happened here before and you believed it. It wasn’t a place where people left their doors unlocked, but murders? Multiple murders in just a few weeks? It was unheard of.

The media named the murderer the Seaside Slasher, but tonight everyone had his real name. He had been caught when he fled the scene of his last murder. No one recognized the name as being a local. As terrifying as it was that a random man had come to your town to brutally murder complete strangers, it didn’t matter. It was over. He was in jail.

Parents had reluctantly granted permission for the seniors to go to parties as a way to celebrate the upcoming graduation and a way to mourn the loss of their classmates. Your parents had been very hesitant to grant permission, but your older brother who had come to town made them agree that you deserved to let loose.

Not that this party was much of a way to do that. Music played so softly that you could barely hear it, teenagers sat around and talked quietly. You hadn’t expected a blowout or anything, but this felt more like study hall.

You could either stay here and be reminded of the horrors of the last few weeks or you could go home and actually relax. It wasn’t a hard decision.

A quiet goodbye to your group of friends later, you went up the stairs and slipped your shoes on. You checked your purse for your things and then headed to the front door.

“Where you headed sweetie?”

You turned around and saw the mom of the student whose house you were in. You smiled as you hoisted your purse over your shoulder.

“I’m going to head home. My parents didn’t want me out for long with everything.”

The mom smiled, but you could tell it was with a heavy heart. She looked out the glass of the front door and frowned a bit.

“It’s late. Do you want me or my husband to drive you?”

That wasn’t a rare occurrence even without the murders still hanging over the heads of everyone, but you still shook your head.

“No, I live one street over, on Granite Avenue. It won’t take long.”

She laughed a bit as she reached out and touched my shoulder.

“I suppose I shouldn’t be so cautious. He was caught, wasn’t he? We’re safe now.”

“But it’s hard to switch gears that fast,” you added, since that’s exactly how your parents had worded it. She laughed as if you had read her mind, but you could see she was still a bit hesitant to let you walk. “I’ll call once I’m home. How’s that?”

With your friend’s mom placated, you headed out into the night air. It wasn’t overbearingly hot, even though summer was right at the cusp. Living this close to the coast meant there was also a little bit of a breeze though.

You walked down the street a few blocks before you cut across to your own street. There weren’t many sounds in the distance, just the sound of your feet on the asphalt, but you still felt the hair rise on the back of your neck the longer you were out. You sped up your pace until you could see your house clearly, the front porch light on to welcome you home.

Maybe your parents had the right idea to not want you to go out. It didn’t matter that you were safe, right then you felt like you were being hunted.

On the front porch you pulled out your key and let yourself in. There were no lights on upstairs or in the living room as you put your purse down and tugged off your shoes. You bypassed the stairs and went to the kitchen to grab a glass of water. With it in your hand, you took a few sips before you headed to the stairs that led down to the den where your brother was staying. There wasn’t an overhead light on but flickers from the television. He was probably awake though and you wanted to let someone know that you were home.

Down the stairs, you looked over to the couch and saw the back of your brother’s head as he was facing the television which was on the local news on mute. Right as you opened your mouth to say something to alert him to your presence, you saw what was on the television screen.

Captions ran across the bottom of the screen in a delay to the way the anchor’s mouth was moving, but you saw the picture in the corner of the screen and the tag under it.

SEASIDE SLASHER ESCAPED POLICE CUSTODY

“Oh god,” you whispered as you stared at the news footage. Somehow the murderer had gotten free and whereabouts were unknown.

You needed to call your friend and let them know that you were home and also what had happened, in case they didn’t already know. You needed to wake your parents. You needed to…

“Jere?”

You whispered your brother’s name, not wanting to scare him, but he didn’t budge from watching the news. You flicked the light on which would have ordinarily caused him to at least jerk but he didn’t move still.

Unease filled you as you tiptoed across the carpet to the edge of the couch. As you peered around, multiple things happened at once.

The first was that you saw your brother, his eyes dull and face slack as blood oozed from his neck. He was propped up on the couch to look like he was still alive, but he very much wasn’t.

The second was that crumpled on the floor in front of the couch, hidden from view at first, was your mom. Her face was upturned a bit, but had the same dull eyed look as your brother as she laid in a pool of blood that soaked into the thick carpet underfoot.

The third was that, from the corner of your eye, you saw something move in the reflection of the framed picture of your family that hung over the television. That split second heads up is what made you spin around only to be face to face with a masked murderer who held a bloodied knife in his hand.

The scream came out of you all at once, from the horror of seeing your murdered brother and sister to the terror of being face to face with their murderer. It all happened so quickly that you just screamed for it all as you immediately started to run. You tossed the glass of water you held at his face as you took off across the room.

It meant you had to run through the pool of blood and you felt your socks soak in some of it as you did, but you couldn’t focus on that. You couldn’t focus on the fact that you’d just run past the dead bodies of your loved ones. You could only focus on survival.

Another scream came out of your throat and you felt something slash against your shoulder. He had caught up to you. You bounced off the wall and then darted behind the couch, desperate to get to the stairs, but he was right on you. Your hand grasped a picture frame from the shelf nearest you and you spun around to slam it against his face as you scrambled, screaming as his knife cut into your stomach. You needed to put distance between you and him, needed to get up the stairs. Needed to…

Was your dad even alive? Maybe he had been killed too. Maybe there was no one in the house to hear you scream.

Your face was slammed against the corner of the wall near the stairs, another slash of the knife as it went across your shoulder blades. The den wasn’t large enough to run from him, nowhere to hide. You were going to be killed, you were going to be—

A thunderous noise came to your attention right before someone came down the stairs and barreled into the body that was holding you against the wall, the knife carving against your back and the back of your arm as he was ripped away. You screamed as you spun around, but you watched as your dad wrestled the masked man to the floor and ripped the knife from his hands. Even though the other man fought back, your dad had something to help him.

Cuffs. He was in his police uniform so he must have just gotten home and heard your screams.

As your heart stopped pounding in your ears you heard your dad’s voice break through the fog.

“–911, okay? You need to call 911!”

You stumbled over to the landline that was kept in the den, your feet screaming as you did, but you didn’t focus on that. Just on getting to the phone. Hitting the 9 then the 1 then the 1 again. Then you slumped against the ground as a voice came across to ask what was your emergency.

“Please,” you begged softly as your eyes went to the dead bodies that you could clearly see, your eyes welling up with tears as you felt nausea roll through you. “Oh god, please just…please.”

A bloodied hand entered your vision and you screamed, but your dad bent down so that you could see his face.

“Give me the phone sweetheart, let me,” he said, tears in his eyes.

You must have given it to him. Or maybe he just took it from you. Either way, you watched as he walked back to where he had tackled the masked man as he spoke quickly into the phone. He stumbled over to the body of your mom and knelt down, those tears now pouring over his cheeks. You couldn’t hear his words, but you closed your eyes so you couldn’t see it anymore.

Everything hurt. Your feet from walking through broken glass, either from your water that you’d thrown or the picture you’d smashed against his face. Your back from the multiple knife slashes. Your stomach from the knife. Both of your arms from the knife. Your head from being bashed into the wall.

Your heart. That’s what hurt worse.

—

“You sure this is what you want?”

You looked over at your dad and then back down to the papers in your hands. It listed the information about your dorm room assignment and orientation. You were about 30 miles away from the city but your dad was finally asking the question you knew had been on the tip of his tongue since you had told him that you had gotten into NYU.

“Little late to change my mind, isn’t it?”

“Not at all. I’ll turn this car around right now if you ask me to.”

You knew he would, but you didn’t want him to.

At one point you had contemplated going to a college closer to home, maybe driving in to see your parents every now and then. Maybe you’d go to your brother’s college. Then…

“This is what I want,” you said softly as you looked out of the window to the cars that were all heading the same direction.

“Okay sweetheart,” your dad replied equally softly. “You know I’ll worry about you in a city like New York, but I can’t fault you for wanting to get as far away as you can.”

Your arms subconsciously came around your stomach, fingers searching out the rigid raised scar that stretched beside your naval almost to your side.

“Bad things happen in the city, but bad things happen in small towns too,” you reminded your dad, as if he ever needed a reminder.

As if he hadn’t nailed the door to the den shut the day of the funeral.

“Maybe I’ll move out this way too,” he said instead of addressing your comment. “Less travel so we can see each other.”

Normally the thought of a parent moving to be closer to where you were going to college would seem embarrassing or ridiculous. This time it sounded like a good idea.

“Maybe you should,” you replied as you looked over at your dad, the bags under his eyes and the gray that seemed to sprout up in the last six months. “I think that would be a good idea.”

—

Your roommate was out at another party, but you didn’t mind. You’d gotten used to the solitude, even surrounded by people as you were in New York.

Instead you stared at the computer screen where you had been doing homework. An email had come into your personal box and desperate for a change in pace, you’d opened it. Now you were unable to look away.

A news alert. You’d set it up before you left for college, although this was the first alert you’d gotten. The article was short and to the point, but you kept staring at the headline.

SEASIDE SLASHER SENTENCED TO DEATH

Your phone rang as you read the words again and you answered without looking at the caller ID. You already knew who it was.

“Did you see–”

“Yes,” you said quickly, cutting your dad off. “Yeah, I’m looking at it now.”

Both of you sat in silence on the phone for a few more minutes, neither of you sure what to say at first.

“It’ll be years before it’s actually carried out,” your dad said finally. “These things go through certain stages and he can appeal but, it’s not like there’s much chance of him winning. Justice will be served.”

You closed your eyes and flipped through memories of that night like a flipbook. You felt the horror and terror and pain flow through you all over again.

“Good.”

—

“You’ll never guess who I saw earlier,” your friend Karen said as she flopped down onto your couch. “Never in a million years guess.”

“Frank Castle,” you teased back, not needing to guess.

Her laughter was a good enough answer to tell you that you were right. You laughed as you spun around in your desk chair to look at her.

“And? Did he ask you out or are you continuing to pretend not to like him?”

This was a pretty common sight in your tiny little apartment. You and Karen had met in college and stayed friends even with both of you having hectic lives. Now, out in the real world as it was, you two still hung out a few times a week. To the point where you each had keys to the other’s places.

“He asked me out.”

You let out a whoop and pumped your fist in the air.

“Knew he had it in him!”

“Oh shut up,” she laughed even as she got a starry look in her eyes. “I think I’ve led him on quite a chase already.”

Those two had circled each other for a while, neither one relenting at first even though it was obvious they both liked each other. You were almost annoyed at how perfect they were for each other.

“He said he has this friend named Kevin. He wanted to know if…”

You weren’t sure why Karen had trailed off until you realized you were frowning.

“No blind dates,” you said as you spun back around to your computer. “I appreciate it and all, but I’m fine.”

Your hand went down to your stomach and traced the ridge of the scar in a familiar fashion. You knew without looking that Karen had caught the gesture.

“I know that your first time ended badly, but not every guy is going to…”

She trailed off but you turned to look at her.

“To what, freak out when he sees me naked because I look like someone tried to unsuccessfully gut me like a fish?”

Your college boyfriend had been surprised when he’d seen you without a shirt on, but that wasn’t what had ruined the mood. Even when he’d seen the scars on your back or your arms, he would still have been willing to go further, but it was you that stopped it.

Simply because he had asked “what happened?” As if that wasn’t a reasonable question at that moment.

“I know that you don’t like talking about what happened,” Karen started softly, and then a little more forceful when you scoffed, “but you can’t keep going like this. You rarely leave your apartment unless it’s to come to mine, you never date because you don’t want to talk to anyone about what happened, you only ever talk to me or your dad. It’s not healthy.”

The hand that had pressed against the scar reached up to work the mouse on your computer, although your eyes were unfocused as your mind replayed Karen’s words over and over again.

“Have you thought about going back to a counselor?”

You shook the mouse to make the screensaver go away.

“The last one looked freaked out when I tried to explain what happened. Hard to go back to one after that.”

Karen was one of the only people in the city that knew what had happened to you. It had happened one night about two years into being friends when the two of you had gone out drinking. You’d gotten spooked by someone wearing a ski mask, even though it was winter and obviously cold outside. Karen had found you having a panic attack in the bathroom and everything had just flowed out of you.

She was a great friend, your best friend. That was the only reason you didn’t kick her out of your apartment as she pushed for you to better yourself.

Except you didn’t want to keep having this conversation, so you opened your mouth to change topic but your cell ringing stopped you. Your dad’s picture showed up so you answered it with a smile.

“Hey dad.”

“Hey sweetheart,” he started, his voice slow and careful. “What are you up to?”

“Just sitting at my apartment with Karen,” you said as you turned back to Karen who called out a hello to your dad as she picked up a magazine off your coffee table. “What’s up?”

It took a moment before he answered.

“Have you been watching the news?”

Both you and your dad lived in New York, although he was a ways away from the city, but you knew he didn’t mean the local news. Not even state news. There was something in his voice that told you he meant the news back home.

“No,” you said as you turned to your computer and typed in a search. “I turned off my alerts a while back. Why, what…oh.”

The headline was the first one that popped up, sixteen hours old.

SEASIDE SLASHER EXECUTED

The article wasn’t very long, but you read through it twice just in case. Pretty to the point. No stay of execution was ordered, so the execution had been scheduled. Some of the family members of the victims were present, noticeably absent was the family of the last victims but you and your dad’s names weren’t listed at least. His last words were quoted near the bottom of the article.

“You have no idea. I’ll be back.”

You closed your eyes and took a few breaths until you were regulated once more. When you opened your eyes, Karen was standing beside you and obviously reading the screen because her hand went to your shoulder to give you an encouraging squeeze.

“I guess it’s over,” you said as you covered her hand with yours.

“I guess so,” your dad said back.

For some reason, neither of you sounded convinced.

—

It had been Frank’s idea to leave the city for a few days. While his reasoning was different from yours, you had to admit that you weren’t against the idea. It was around Halloween and while that holiday had not always been an issue for you, sometime over the last few years you just started to react differently.

Even though the man that had killed multiple people in your town, including your mom and brother, had been executed a few years ago, you still felt like you couldn’t fully breathe and be at ease. You didn’t know how to explain it, but that’s just how you felt. Halloween in the city meant seeing people dressed in costumes and a majority of that wasn’t a problem. It just put you more on edge.

Not that your apartment ever got trick or treaters.Still.

“My friend is gonna come out to join us,” Frank said as he carried your bags into the little cabin. “Before you say anything, it’s not a setup kind of thing. Billy is just like a brother to me, I want him to meet the girl that’s like a sister to Karen.”

“Karen already told me. Plus I’ve heard a lot about this Billy guy over the years, it’d be nice to actually meet him.”

Frank was a great guy and had been great to Karen since the two of them had gotten their shit together to start dating. You hadn’t known that Frank was military when the two of them first met, but they made it work. In fact you couldn’t think of any couple that was as in love as the two of them.

So no, you knew that Frank wasn’t the type to try to push a blind date on you. You’d heard a hundred stories about Billy Russo but whenever they were back in the city, you weren’t able to meet up. Sometimes it was for legitimate reasons, deadlines for work or that one memorable Thanksgiving you had the stomach flu. Sometimes it was just because your anxiety and fear had gotten triggered by other situations and you couldn’t leave your house.

This was good though. You were out in the world which always made Karen happy, you were going to meet Frank’s best friend which would make him happy, and you were secluded from any potential jumpscares that Halloween might provide which made you happy. It was a win-win-win.

Two frozen pizzas were popped into the oven and the three of you settled into the living room to watch a movie. Frank got updates from Billy on his own travel out from the city to a remote cabin that you all had rented for the long weekend. When you’d asked why he hadn’t met up with you all to head out together, Frank revealed that Billy liked to do things on his own.

You understood that.

The movie was some actiony Blockbuster that you only vaguely recognized the name of, but it wasn’t really meant to keep everyone’s attention. It was more background noise while the three of you talked. Karen was in the middle of a story from her work at the law office when what sounded like a car pulling up had all of you looking over to the door.

“Bill said he still had an hour left,” Frank said as he checked his phone again. Then he stood up and approached the door and looked through the glass. “Huh. I don’t see a car besides ours.”

Karen frowned and got up to move over to the large glass windows that you had pulled the curtains closed on. She opened them just a bit and looked around.

“Think they drove around to the back? The driveway wraps around the house.”

Frank walked out of the living room and into the kitchen to check back there, but called that there wasn’t a car there either.

“Maybe someone just turned around in the driveway and was gone before you got up?” you offered as you tried not to let yourself get swept away in worry and fear.

“That…is a good possibility,” Karen agreed as she let go of the curtains and moved to sit next to you once more. “Out here away from the city you can hear everything like that. It didn’t sound too close, now that I’m thinking about it.”

Frank came back into the living room with another piece of pizza halfway eaten already as he nodded in agreement. He sat down on the chair closest to the television and put his feet back up on the coffee table.

“I always forget you both are from small towns,” he said as he wiped his hands on a napkin before he crumpled it and tossed it with the rest of the dinner’s debris on the coffee table. “I’m used to cities.”

You stretched your legs out and then moved so that you were sitting criss cross on the couch cushion.

“My town was tiny. The kind of place where everyone knew everyone, secrets were nearly impossible to have, people felt comfortable going to anyone’s house and asking for something if they needed it. It was…it was a great place to grow up.”

You waved off Frank’s look of concern with a small laugh.

“It’s okay, I’m okay. The last therapist said that I needed to get better about talking about the good things from my past. It wasn’t all…bad.”

Karen reached over and squeezed your hand in support which just made your chest swell with a bitter happiness. How bad off were you that you could be praised for doing something as simple as talking about the good days of your past?

Knock knock.

All three of you looked over at the door. Frank glanced over at his phone once more and then stood up. He went to the door and looked out of the small window, but didn’t seem to see anyone. When his hand went to the bolt, you opened your mouth but immediately closed it.

This was just a normal situation. It wasn’t anything to get worked up about. If you gave into your fear every time something happened that was out of your hands, you’d never get to have a normal life.

He opened the door just a few inches and looked out, the light from the house flooding out onto the porch. He flicked on the overhead light but didn’t open the glass door to step out and check.

Tap tap tap.

All of you looked over to the window that was in front of you, angled so that someone standing in front of it wouldn’t be visible from the front door. You opened your mouth and looked over at Karen who was frowning. Frank held a hand out, but Karen stood up and marched over to the window. She didn’t pull the curtains wide, but she didn’t have to. The moment she pulled them even partially open, the sight made her scream and jump backwards.

There was someone just outside of the window dressed in a black hoodie with a Halloween mask on their face. You recognized the mask from some horror film or other that had come out years and years ago, but that didn’t really click. Instead you found yourself staring at the mask, mouth open as if to scream, but nothing coming out.

Things happened very quickly after that. Karen had turned to Frank who was already out of the house in the blink of an eye. You were up and launching yourself to the kitchen, hands fumbling as you pulled open drawer after drawer before you found the knives. You grabbed the largest one and swung around, but then you jumped back as you saw the person with the mask was in the living room.

Except the mask was in his hand and you recognized him. It was Frank’s friend Billy. Frank’s friend Billy who was being yelled at by Karen as she yanked the mask out of his hand.

Your body was still in fight or flight, the knife held aloft as if to ward off anyone from coming closer. When someone did move closer to you, you recognized that it was Frank but still couldn’t lower your arm. You heard your name being called, heard Karen say your name as well, but you still couldn’t move.

You were safe as long as you stayed right where you were. Your back was to a solid wall, the knife was in front of you. You would be safe, you would be…

“It’s alright, you’re alright,” a voice softly called to you from your left. You turned your head and saw Karen, a few feet away with her hands up, her face paler than you’d ever seen it. “It was just a mistake, a stupid prank. Everything is okay.”

Your eyes looked past Karen and Frank to where Billy stood, his eyes wide as he stared back at you. He raised his hands slowly and showed his palms. Then he spoke, or maybe just mouthed the words.

You are safe.

Safe. You shut your eyes for a moment and then when you opened them back up, the haze you had gone under when everything had happened was lifted. You dropped the knife and shrank back into the wall so that you wouldn’t crumple.

“Oh god,” you whimpered as you looked over at Karen, “I’m sorry. I didn’t hurt anyone, did I?”

“No, of course not,” Frank answered as he grabbed the knife and put it on the counter.

Karen swooshed in and wrapped you in a hug. You held on as tight as you could and buried your face in her shoulder. You weren’t crying, no tears and no body wracking sobs. Just shook as adrenaline fled your body.

“I am so sorry,” a new voice said a few feet away. When you glanced up, you met Billy’s dark eyes as he stared at you and Karen. “I didn’t…I didn’t know. I thought it would be a funny prank, I didn’t know.”

Didn’t know what? You remembered seeing Karen yell at him as she pulled the mask from his hand and you assumed that maybe she had said something. Something to let him know that he just traumatized you a bit.

You sniffled and pulled away from Karen. Then you stepped a little closer to Billy.

“We haven’t been formally introduced. Hi, I’m…a survivor of a masked serial killer.”

Billy let out a shocked laugh and held his hand out to you.

“Nice to meet you.”

—

Karen and Frank had gone to bed around midnight and although you should have done the same, you found yourself still sitting in the living room with Billy at almost two in the morning. Once everything had settled down and Billy had apologized again for scaring you, you all had gone into the living room to talk and try to recoup from the events that had happened.

Once the couple had gone to bed, the comfortable silence had made you say something you hadn’t expected.

“It was my senior year. In total, nine people were killed. Including my mom and my brother. I think I was going to be number ten if my dad hadn’t arrived.”

With that, you spilled the whole story in a way you’d only done with Karen and with a few therapists. You told Billy everything that had happened and how it made you feel.

“I don’t leave my apartment much,” you admitted as you stared down at where your fingers were picking at the thread on the blanket over your lap. “Karen has helped a lot with that, and Frank too now. They help me get out and feel…safe. Halloween is a hard time because of the masks. It’s like I go right back to the den that night, feel like I’m going to die.”

“I’m really sorry about everything. I had no idea.”

“I know,” you whispered softly as you looked over to where Billy was watching you. “To be honest, that’s the scariest thing that’s happened to me since…since the attack. As messed up as it is, I think…I think it helped me.”

Billy tilted his head to show that he was listening, but he didn’t say anything. As if he knew him speaking would make you not say what was on your mind.

“I’ve been in a holding pattern since it all happened. I moved to the city for college and then I got an apartment and a job and somewhat of a life, but there’s a part of me that never left my hometown. A part of me that is still running around that room, thinking I was going to die. Tonight, when I was scared for my life again, I didn’t run. Or well, I did, but I was going to fight. I was going to…I wasn’t going to be caught unprepared again. I was going to fight.”

You bit your bottom lip as you looked down at your hands. Then slowly you grabbed your shirt and pulled up the hem to show your scar. It was the first time you’d voluntarily shown anyone besides doctors or Karen.

“This is just one of them, but...I was always ashamed. That I came out of that terrible night with just some scars. It never felt right that I was alive with just scars, when everyone else was gone.”

Billy’s eyes had moved down to the scar along your stomach, but the way they lingered didn’t make you feel hideous or like he thought you were a freak. In fact, the way his eyes moved along the skin made butterflies appear in your stomach.

“Survivor’s guilt is a difficult thing,” he said as he finally raised his eyes to meet yours. “You have that fear, but you also feel guilty. Like you shouldn’t get to be carefree because you don’t think you should have survived.”

You lowered your shirt and thought about that, let it sit for a while. Then you closed your eyes and laughed.

“Six therapists. I’ve seen six therapists and no one has put it so perfectly.”

Billy leaned his head back against the couch for a moment and then looked over at you.

“Every tour that Frankie and I do, I always tell myself that I probably won’t make it back. I make smart decisions and I do what I can to survive, but I accepted a long time ago that no one would notice if I was gone.”

“Frank would,” you said softly, your eyes darting over to the hallway where Karen and Frank’s room was. “He said that you’re like a brother to him.”

When you looked back at Billy, he was staring at you with an emotion you couldn’t name.

“The guy. What happened to him?”

The jump from topics made you confused for a moment before you shook your head to clear it a bit.

“He was sentenced to death and a few years ago, he was executed.”

Billy nodded as he stood up, stretching a bit until his back popped.

“Good. That’s…good.”

He moved into the kitchen and you didn’t follow or try to speak to him while he was in there. You had a feeling that Billy was going through his own journey with the things that weighed on him, but you weren’t going to push.

When he came back into the living room, he gestured to the hall.

“Should probably head to bed. It’s late.”

You nodded and stood up. To extend the time with Billy, you grabbed the trash from the coffee table and moved into the kitchen to throw it away. When you opened the trash can, you stared down at the mask that had started it all.

“Here,” Billy said as he took the trash from you and pushed it into the can, burying the mask completely. “Like it never happened.”

You glanced up at Billy’s face and then nodded, even though you knew that wasn’t what you felt like at all. Just like you had said to Billy, you felt like the whole ordeal pushed you into the healing part of your journey. Now you honestly felt like you could breathe again.

It had been a long time coming, but you were starting to feel whole once more.

—

“I have a box of picture frames. Where do you want it?”

Karen looked over at you and then glanced at the messy living room.

“Put them on the coffee table for now? Honestly I have no idea what I want to do with this place.”

You laughed when you placed the heavy box on the coffee table. Honestly you didn’t blame Karen for being a bit overwhelmed. Frank and Billy and Curtis had moved the furniture into the house over the weekend so you and Karen took it on yourself to unpack as much as you could.

Karen and Frank’s new house was very nice and as everything was unloaded, it slowly became more and more like a home. You were happy for the two of them, even if you were a little envious.

Since that Halloween cabin trip, you had made a lot of strides with getting over your past. Even so, you were just starting to get your life back together.

Including going on a few dates over the last few weeks. Still nothing serious, but casual dating isn’t bad every now and then.

As you unpacked books for the bookshelf, you let your mind wander to Billy. Since that trip, all of you had gotten together a few times for other trips or just for a meal and a laugh. When Frank and Billy were deployed again, you and Karen sent care packages and kept in touch with them. It felt natural.

Karen got your attention as she came through with a box.

“I’m taking these clothes upstairs. Wanna stop for lunch soon?”

You agreed as you broke down the box you had been pulling stuff out of for the bookshelf. As you opened the next box, your phone started to ring in your pocket. When you looked at the screen, you saw Billy’s contact on there and answered immediately.

“Hey Billy,” you greeted as you started to pull the books out for the bookshelf.

When his voice came through, it was obvious he was calling from his car.

“Hey, uh, you and Karen unpacking?”

“Yeah, about to stop for lunch though. What’s up?”

He didn’t say anything at first which made you stop unloading the box. You stood up and turned as if you expected to see him behind you, even though you could still hear the car in the background.

“Have you seen the news? From your old town.”

Your chest felt like it became a bit too tight at those words. The last time you’d heard a version of that, it was your dad calling to tell you about the execution.

“No.”

He sighed a bit which made you tense to the point where you had to turn to sit down on the chair nearest you.

“There was an attack in your town two nights ago. From what I know, it was…your childhood home.”

There was a moment where you were really glad you sat down because otherwise you think your legs would have given out. As your mind swirled, you tried to think of what to ask first.

You knew that Billy had looked into your story after you told him about it. Hearing your version of events made him want to see it from start to finish so he’d looked it up. There was still a lot of information on it, including the lack of any real motive.

“An attack?”

“The police were called to the house when they heard screams. The mom and a son were on an overnight field trip so it was just the dad and daughter in the house. By the time they got there, the dad and daughter had both been brutally murdered.”

You closed your eyes and remembered what it felt like to have someone break into your house with the intention of killing you.

“They were found in the finished basement on the floor.”

Suddenly it felt like you couldn’t catch your breath. Your mouth went dry as you thought about stepping into the basement den and finding your mom and brother. The healed scars felt like they were bleeding and even though it was impossible, you still reached into your shirt to see if there was any blood from the scar.

Nothing.

“Did they find who did it?”

“They were gone, but there was a note stabbed to the door. It just had a date on it.”

“What date?”

When Billy said the date that was on the note, you half expected it to be the date you had been attacked, but it wasn’t. It was only from a few years ago, so you didn’t think it had anything to do with what had happened, just a coincidence.

Until…

“Wasn’t that the date he was executed?”

You closed your eyes as you realized that Billy was right. It had been a while since you’d thought about the date, but thinking about it you were pretty sure that Billy was right.

“His uh, his last words were that he’d be back.”

“That’s impossible. He’s dead, there’s no way he can be back.”

You almost laughed because yes, you knew that. You knew that it was impossible, but that’s what he said either way. Instead you felt tears start to gather in your eyes as you settled more into the chair.

“I’d come by but I’m out of town. Maybe stay with Karen and Frankie tonight, okay? Just…I don’t think you’re in danger, but I still don’t think you should be alone.”

You nodded and wiped at your eyes.

“Thanks Billy. I’ll talk to Karen when she comes downstairs. I’ll uh, I’ll talk to you later? Drive safely.”

“It’s all going to be okay. I promise.”

You hoped he was right but you didn’t know. Nothing felt right at the moment.

All you knew was as the call with Billy ended, you needed to call your dad to let him know about it. Once upon a time you thought that things were over, but not anymore. Now you were thinking things were just about to begin.

—

It was dark out as you made your way through the parking lot to where your car was parked. In the background you could hear your coworkers laughing as they headed to their own cars. A shouted invitation to join them at the bar came over, but you waved them off and promised next time.

Which you’d actually follow through with. It wasn’t like it had been before, where you kept to yourself at all times. You’d branched out, made friends, started working from the office just as much as you worked from home. You still kept certain things to yourself of course, a habit you were unable to break anytime soon, but you opened yourself up to people.

The car chirped as you unlocked it and slid into the front seat, immediately locking the doors again. As you started the car, you noticed something on your windshield. A folded piece of paper tucked under your windshield wiper.

Carefully you leaned forward and leaned out of the window to pull the paper out of the wiper. It came free after a tug. Once settled back in the seat, you rolled the window back up and looked at the paper. You unfolded it and stared at it.

Did you miss me?

Your hands shook as you dropped the paper into your passenger seat. Then, without hesitation, you started towards the entrance to the parking lot. Your headlights went across someone in the distance but you didn’t even focus on them, just stepped on the gas to get out of the parking lot.

The person didn’t move at least, seen from the corner of your eye as you sped out. It was possible it wasn’t anyone to worry about, someone from the office or just someone passing by.

As you headed to the freeway, you connected your bluetooth and dialed Karen’s number. It went to voicemail and you swore as you hung up. You were about to call her again when you hesitated.

For some reason, you wanted to call Billy. So that’s what you did.

He answered after a few rings.

“Hey, what’s up? Leaving work?”

Your hands shook a bit as you navigated through the traffic on the street.

“I came out of work and there was a note on my windshield.”

“Okay. Did you…”

“I grabbed it,” you admitted as you drove around a slow driver in the fast lane. “I realize now that I shouldn’t have, that it could have been…but I grabbed it.”

“It sounds like you’re driving so at least nothing happened. What did it say?”

You glanced down at the paper in your passenger seat and then immediately back up to the road.

“Did you miss me?”

“Fuck,” Billy breathed out, the connection distorting a bit from the force. “This isn’t good. I thought that whoever it was wouldn’t come all this way, but it sounds like maybe he did. Maybe you’re a target.”

Your chest felt tight as you pulled onto the street where you lived.

“I need to call to check on my dad. I’m almost home so I’ll call him when I get inside.”

“You don’t need to go to your place, not alone. Do you think Karen is home yet?”

“I tried to call Karen first,” you said as you drove past your house, your eyes on your rearview mirror just to check. “She didn’t answer so I called you.”

“That’s okay, never hesitate to call me if you need me. But for now, come to Anvil. Frank is there, I’ll let him know what’s going on. We’re gonna make sure you’re never alone until this guy is caught, okay?”

You nodded even though he couldn’t see you. You knew the way to Anvil easily enough, but that didn’t stop your heart from thudding in your chest. Whether this guy was connected to the man who had done the original attacks or it was a copycat, it didn’t matter. Right now all that mattered was that you could be in danger.

“I need to call my dad,” you said again.

“I know, but stay on the phone with me for right now, okay? I don’t want something to happen to you while you’re out.”

You wished that you could close your eyes or burrow into yourself, but you had to focus on the road. Instead you lowered your voice a bit.

“I’m scared Billy.”

His sigh came through the phone so clear that it felt like he was in the car with you.

“I know. It’s going to be okay, I promise.”

He couldn’t promise that, not really, but you didn’t say that. Instead you simply listened to the ambient noise of the connection all the way to Anvil.

—

Your dad’s cell phone rang to the voicemail twice, but you didn’t stop. As you clicked it again, you looked over to where Frank and Billy were talking. Billy had gotten to Anvil a little bit before you did and had filled Frank in by time you got there. The two of them were discussing a plan, although you weren’t sure what for just yet.

All you cared about was getting in touch with your dad. He didn’t normally miss a call, not like this.

On the third time you called, the line was finally answered but it wasn’t your dad’s voice that greeted you.

“Hello?”

“Uh, hello...you have my dad’s phone. Who is this?”

The men turned to you when they heard what you had asked, both with concern on their faces.

“Hello miss. My name is Dr Roberts. Your father was brought in earlier this evening. He had been in a car accident.”

As he explained what had happened, you felt yourself sway. If you hadn’t already been sitting, you would have fallen over. Instead, as you were obviously struggling to focus on the words the doctor was saying, Frank came over and took the phone from you. He didn’t go far as he spoke, asking the questions you should have been asking.

“Hey. I’m right here.”

You blinked a few times and looked over to where Billy had knelt down in front of you, his hand in yours. You didn’t even notice him coming to your side or touching you. With a shake of your head, you looked over to where Frank was giving you a comforting head nod as he asked about hospital security.

“Oh god,” you breathed as you finally let yourself shake a bit. “My dad, he was in a car accident.”

“I know, but he’s okay. He’s in recovery and he’s going to be okay.”

Your eyes slammed shut as you tried to remember what the doctor had said before Frank had taken over.

“Earlier this evening. He had been in a car accident earlier this evening.”

Billy stared up at you. Then, with a glance over to Frank, he moved to sit next to you on the couch.

“He lives about thirty minutes away, right? Be enough time for the copycat to leave the note on your car and then go after your dad.”

Your hand contracted around Billy’s as you looked at the note that was on the table where you’d left it.

“There was someone in the parking lot when I got in the car. I didn’t see them very well, too far away and too desperate to leave. What if that was him? It’s not like he can be in two places at once.”

Saying that made your heart stutter in your chest as you remembered something. Something from so long ago that it had been buried.

“What is it?”

You looked over at Billy and then back to the note.

“The murders. The original murders. The only other night where two people died on the same night besides…” You let your words trail off, unable to mention your mom and brother right then. “It was never investigated and as much as I can remember, it was never talked about in the trial, but there had been speculation back then. The first murder that night was on the mainland and the second murder was on a little island. The newspapers said it should have been impossible for one person to cross that distance on the ferry in the time between murders, so they were looking for a boat that might have been used. But what if there wasn’t a boat? What if there were two murderers this whole time?”

Billy looked at the note and then over to Frank who was nodding as if he had heard. You caught a quick snippet of him telling the doctor that one of Anvil’s men would be there as soon as possible to provide extra security.

“If there were two murderers back then, then it isn’t a copycat. It’s a continuation.”

Your hands went around your stomach as if to hold you together, fingers seeking out those rigid scars under your top.

“Why me? Why my family? We never did anything to anyone.”

“It can be a fixation of finishing what was started. It can be the chase because you got away. Revenge because you got his partner killed. There’s a lot of reasons someone might keep going after you.”

You wanted to laugh, but the logic was important. You needed the reality of this before you lost yourself.

“I don’t know what to do,” you whispered as you stared down at your hands with tears in your eyes. “I want to see my dad.”

“We’ll take you,” Frank said as he passed you the phone, the screen showing the call had ended. “I’m going to pick up Karen and tell her what’s going on. Then we’ll take you to your dad.”

“Maybe we should wait,” Billy said as he stood up to face Frank. “Get Karen, get someone from Anvil to sit on her dad, but if we drag her out of the city, we can’t be sure that he won’t follow us and more people will get hurt. Here, we’re on our turf.”

As the men discussed the pros and cons of both plans, you let your hand go back to the scar. The fear that had gone through you that night in the basement den of your childhood home had started to come back, but as it rose, so did something else. A strength you never knew you had.

The strength to survive.

“I’m staying,” you said finally, cutting off their conversation. “If he wants to finish what he started, he can start with me. I’m not running again.”

Both men looked at you and you saw the pride in their eyes. Frank pulled out his phone.

“I’m going to get Karen. We’ll stick together. You and Bill should stick together too. We’ll come up with a plan to draw him out and we’ll end this.”

Your eyes went to Billy’s and found those dark eyes were already on yours.

“I’ll take you to my place. We’ll be safe there.”

This was it. The final standoff.

For years you’d thought you were safe, that the danger had been left behind you. Now, whatever happened, you knew it would really be over.

—

“Here, this will be more comfortable,” Billy explained as he handed you some of his clothes.

You hadn’t gone back to your place, unwilling to take the chance. Instead Billy had brought you straight to his over the top apartment and told you to make yourself at home.

You went into the bathroom to change, placing your clothes on the side of the sink where you could change back into them in the morning. As you stared at yourself in the mirror in Billy’s clothes, you felt your throat catch a bit.

Inch by inch you raised the shirt and looked at the scar on your stomach. Then, even though you had just put the shirt on, you pulled it off and held it to your chest as you turned. With your back facing the mirror, you looked over your shoulder and looked at the scars there.

You had felt the knife tear through your skin. The stitches hadn’t been nearly enough to keep the scars from being ugly, but you didn’t care anymore. Once upon a time they made you ashamed, but why should they? They meant you were a survivor.

A survivor.

“Hey, are you…”

Billy had knocked on the door and it came open fully since you hadn’t shut it all the way in your daze. He looked at your back in the mirror for a long moment before he met your eyes.

“Are you hungry? I was going to make dinner.”

You swallowed thickly as you looked down from his gaze in the mirror to the scars.

“They don’t bother you.”

It wasn’t asked, it was stated. When his gaze flickered away from the mirror, you turned to face him in the doorway. His eyes went down the scars on your stomach. The ones you had showed him that first night in the cabin after he had scared you. He walked towards you and reached out, slowly as if to let you move away if you wanted to.

You didn’t want to.

When those fingers touched your scar, you shivered but didn’t pull away. His eyes moved from the scar and landed on your face.

“We all have scars,” he said softly as his eyes dropped to your mouth. “Shows that you’re a survivor.”

A survivor. He had echoed the words you had thought right before he’d walked in.

“Billy,” you began but he shook his head.

“Later,” he promised as he leaned in and captured your lips with his.

Since you were going to ask if you could kiss him, you found yourself happy with this change of pace. The shirt was dropped to the floor. Chest bared, you leaned in and wrapped your arms around his neck to hold him closer. Even as his hand skimmed up your back and slowly touched the scars there, you didn’t pull away.

You were done pulling away.

Billy led you to the bedroom. As you pulled your pants and underwear off, Billy beat the record to pull his clothes off as well. His shirt was already on the floor and while he worked on his pants, you caught the scars on his shoulder and side.

Your fingers went to the ones on his shoulder first, tracing over them. Then you touched the one low on his side.

“What are these from?”

Billy placed his hand over yours as you touched the one on his side.

“I’ll tell you all about them. After,” he added as he leaned in to kiss you again.

You smiled against his lips, unable to help yourself. It wasn’t like you’d never thought about kissing Billy. In fact you’d thought about it a lot, even that first night when he’d scared you nearly to death. There had always been some sort of attraction between the two of you, something you never dwelled on because you hadn’t been interested in making things awkward between the two of you.

Although now you didn’t think that it would be very awkward. Something told you that Billy was just as interested as you were.

Instead of focusing on the scars on either of you, you decided to focus on Billy and the way he was making you feel.

There’d be time to talk later.

—

Billy wasn’t in the apartment when you woke up, but a note on the table said that he had to run to Anvil and would pick up breakfast on his way back. You had smiled at the note and folded it to put into your pocket. You were stupidly enamored by that man.

As you went over to the coffee pot that looked like it belonged in a spaceship, you heard your phone ring from your purse on the coffee table. With the reminder that your dad was in the hospital, you rushed over and grabbed it.

It was him. You immediately answered.

“Dad? Are you okay?”

“Hey kiddo,” your dad answered, his voice drowsy and laced with pain. “Finally awake enough to call. Wanted to hear your voice. The goon at the door said you’d called and talked to the doctor.”

“Dad.” Your voice broke as you slumped onto the couch. “Dad, you…do you remember what happened? Who did it?”

There was silence for a long moment before your dad sighed, the noise a bit strangled as he wheezed.

“I only saw him for a split second, but I’d recognize it anywhere. I thought I was seeing things.” You listened as he shifted, the bed crinkling him under him loud enough for you to hear over the phone. “He came by when I was in the car. I think he thought I was dead or maybe unconscious, but I heard his voice. I heard him tell me it was about time.”

You closed your eyes and wrapped your arms around you as tight as you could.

“I had a letter on my windshield last night. It asked me if I missed him. I don’t think it’s a copycat dad. I think that he was involved in the original murders.”

The slow beeps from the phone was the only way you knew the call hadn’t failed. Then your dad finally spoke.

“I think you’re right. I don’t know why, but I agree.”

At least you were all on the same page with that.

Your phone buzzed with an incoming call and you checked it to see that it was Billy. After you told your dad you’d call him back in a bit, you switched over to talk to him.

“Hey, is everything okay at Anvil?”

“You’re still at the apartment, right? You didn’t leave.”

You looked around for some reason and then sat up a bit straighter.

“Yeah, I’m still here. What happened?”

There was a lot going on in the background in the call and you strained your ears enough to pick up a few words. By things you could hear, Billy was near a bunch of cops.

“There was another murder. Your next door neighbor, Melinda Geillis.”

You knew Melinda well enough, the two of you often talked in the elevators or hallway. You closed your eyes tightly and shook your head.

“Are we sure it was him?”

Billy said something quietly to someone nearby and then it was quiet on the other side of the phone.

“Her throat was slit and then she was dragged into your apartment and propped up on your couch like she was watching television.”

The memory of your brother’s body flashed before your eyes. Yeah, that was him.

“There’s a note here too. It says ‘sorry I missed you’.”

You flinched at that. Then your hand went to your pocket where Billy’s note was. The feel of the paper comforted you a bit.

“Dad said he saw him, recognized the outfit from the night of the attack. He also said he heard his voice. The guy came by after the accident and was taunting my dad, either because he thought he was dead or thought he wouldn’t hear. He said it was about time.”

Billy swore through his teeth. You could almost picture his face as he absorbed that information.

“We’re gonna catch this guy, okay? Nothing is going to happen to you or to your dad. Not again.”

You let out a breath and then slumped against the couch a bit.

“How’d you find out anyway? I mean, if it was in my apartment, you’d think I would have heard about it first.”

“I was driving by and saw the police presence,” Billy explained softly as someone came through the room he was in, talking about taking pictures. “I asked what happened and they let me know. I’ve worked with enough local law enforcement so they let me up. The detective in charge is going to call you, but…I wanted to be the one to tell you.”

You laughed a bit as you reached up to rub at your eyes.

“Thank you Billy. Really.”

“I’ll come pick you up and bring you to the station so we can coordinate with the locals. Just stay inside and keep the door locked, okay? There’s a spare gun in the safe; the combination is 7895.”

You looked over at the safe, but didn’t make moves to go get it. You weren’t big on guns.

“I’ll see you shortly Billy. Thanks again.”

When the call was over, you leaned back and wrapped your arms around your legs. It had been such a long morning already and you’d only been awake for an hour.

At some point this would be over, wouldn’t it? One way or another.

—

The police station wasn’t a place you’d spent a lot of time since you’d come to the city. Once upon a time, in the little seaside town you’d grown up in, you’d been in the police station a lot. Not for any nefarious reasons of course, simply because your dad had worked for the force. You’d gotten comfortable in police stations.

Now though? You had to admit that you were very uneasy. It wasn’t the people themselves of course, they were just your run of the mill law enforcement officers. No, you were uneasy because of the reason you were there.

Billy had suggested that you not see the pictures from the crime scene, but you reminded him that you had lived through it once.

It was like seeing a ghost. Your neighbor’s body was propped up in a mirror of your brother’s, down to the television being on in front of her and playing the news. You tried not to stare into her lifeless eyes, but in the close up picture your only other option was to look at the gash across her neck.

There had been a struggle. She had fought hard.

After some questions and rehashing the details with the police, you were led to the front lobby to leave, but Billy doubled back to coordinate coverage at your dad’s hospital room. While he did that, you called your dad to let him know what was going on.

“You gotta leave the city,” your dad said sternly. “I don’t want to lose you. You need to leave, you need to get somewhere this maniac will never find you.”

“Dad, I can’t leave. Look what happened when I stayed somewhere else for one night? Who knows what will happen if–”

“Hey, they said we can head out whenever,” Billy called as he approached. He nodded to where your phone was against your ear, “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, it’s just my dad. Hey dad, I’ve got to–”

Your name from your dad made you pause what you were saying, only slightly annoyed by being interrupted again. Something in your dad’s voice made you stop speaking, stop breathing. There was terror in his voice.

“Who is that? With you right now. Who is with you?”

You looked over at Billy who was frowning in concern.

“It’s my friend Billy, the one I’ve told you about? He’s the one that brought me to the police station after what happened at my apartment.”

There was a long pause that made you a little antsy.

“You need to get away from him right now. You need to get out of there. Immediately.”

“Dad–”

“Stop. Don’t let him know, but leave. Go back into the station, stay with them. Get away from him. That’s the voice I heard after my accident.”

You swallowed thickly as you heard those words, your eyes going from Billy to the door he had just come through. You could see police officers moving around through the glass door. From the peripheral you could see Billy watching you, barely making out the concern still on his face as you stood a little straighter.

“Are you sure?”

“I can’t be one hundred percent sure, not over a phone, but it sounds just like him. Please, get away from him.”

With your eyes closed, you listened to your dad plead with you while you remembered the way that Billy had touched you the night before. Was it possible? Was it possible that Billy was this person that was tormenting you? Killing people?

The things you knew about Billy told you that anything was possible.

You nodded and then made a noise like you were listening to your dad as you reached and patted yourself, as if looking for something.

“Billy, can you check and see if I left my wallet in the interview room,” you said with a glance over at him. “I don’t want to see the pictures again but I think I left my wallet in there.”

“Sure,” he said with a nod and a brief touch to your arm.

When he disappeared behind the door to head back to the interview room, you grabbed your wallet out of your pocket and nearly ran from the police station. On the road you found a cab that was thankfully letting someone out of the door at the same time that you’d gotten there, so you simply slid right in. Then you thought about where to go.

After you gave the address to the hospital your dad was at, you glanced over your shoulder to the door of the police station. Right as the cab started to pull away from the curb, you saw Billy step out and look around. You didn’t know if he saw you or not, but you settled back into your seat and let out a sigh.

“I’m headed to you dad,” you said softly. “I don’t know if you’re right, I don’t see how Billy could…but I’m on my way.”

You had no idea how to explain what your dad may or may not have heard. You couldn’t imagine that Billy was the one that had done those things. How would he have even been involved?

But you remembered that every time something had happened, Billy had been gone. He’d been on the road after the attacks back home, he’d been out when the note had been left on your car and your dad had been hit, he’d been out when your neighbor was attacked.

Was it possible that billy wasn’t who you thought he was? Was it possible that you’d slept with someone you shouldn’t have trusted?

The mere thought made your stomach turn.

—

The officer at the door was a bit confused when you told him not to let an Anvil employee watch the door alone, but he reluctantly agreed without you explaining why. He was agreeable otherwise.

Your dad looked rough, but he smiled tightly when you came into the room. His eyes cut to the door and then back to you as you shut it behind you.

“His men were out there, weren’t they? Are they still?”

“Not right now,” you said as you went over to his side to grab his hand. “I still don’t know for sure, but if that’s what you heard, then I have to trust you.”

Your dad winced as he leaned closer to you, his hand tight on yours.

“We can’t stay here. From what I’ve been able to tell, he has a lot of pull with the locals.”

“Dad, you can’t go anywhere. Look at you, you’re barely able to sit up right now. I can’t lug you around, I’m not strong enough for that.”

Your dad closed his eyes and nodded slowly.

“So you need to go somewhere else. Somewhere without telling anyone. Once you’re gone, I’ll talk to a detective about my theory and we’ll have him looked into.”

You shook your head as he spoke.

“No, I can’t leave without you,” you cried as you hugged him, gently to keep from hurting him. “If something happened to you while I was gone, it would kill me. I can’t lose you.”

“I’ll be safe here until I’m able to get out myself. I’ll call a friend to come sit with me for a while. You’re my only concern, you’re my priority.”

You wiped your tears off your cheeks as you pulled back a bit. With a sniffle you glanced over at the door to see the back of the cop’s head as he pulled his phone to his ear. As he nodded and looked over his shoulder at you, you felt something cold wash over you.

“I have to go now. I think Billy’s trying to find out if I’m here.”

“Then go sweetheart. Do you remember the plan for Tallahassee?”

The codeword made you shake a bit. It was picked after your mom and brother had been killed as it’s where your mom had originally been from. If something ever happened and you and your dad had to run off, you’d go to a location that was a secret between the two of you. Far away from Tallahassee, but it was a word that could be used even in front of others without being discovered.

You really hoped you never had to use it.

“One week and then I’ll head to Tallahassee,” you said as you stood up and wiped tears from your eyes again. “Then when you’re better, you can join me.”

“One week for us both, whether or not I’m feeling better.”

The old man was stubborn. You laughed a bit as you leaned in to give him a kiss on the cheek. Then the forehead.

“I love you dad,” you said as you placed another kiss on his forehead.

“I love you too kiddo,” he repeated as he squeezed your hand. “Go. Get out of here and be safe.”

That’s all that there was to it. And now you needed to figure out where to go to wait out the week.

You’d need to stop at some ATMs to get money out so that you wouldn’t leave a trail. Something told you that Billy would use whatever resources he had to find you and you weren’t going to give him that chance.

—

The man at the front desk of the motel didn’t even look at your ID or anything else as you pushed the cash over for the week. He simply counted the bills and then handed you the key.

“Ice machine doesn’t work, vending machines are on the first floor, pool is closed for now.”

You tucked the rest of your money into your waller and palmed the key, mumbling a thanks to him as you turned and walked out of the office. Your room was on the second floor so you made it up the stairs with the crinkle of the grocery bags you carried your freshly bought clothes in. At room 17, you put the key into the lock and turned it. It stuck a bit but came open after that.

“Home sweet home,” you muttered as you dropped the grocery bags onto the bed.

You’d bought some clothes and some other necessities on your way out of the city. Here you were, about six hours from the city, settling into a motel that didn’t even have a sign to tell you the name.

At some point you’d need to go to the vending machines and get a few snacks. Maybe try to find a local grocery store where you could get some nonperishable items. There was a microwave in the room and a mini-fridge. More like a mini-mini-fridge, but whatever.

You felt naked without your cell phone, but you definitely knew that you could be tracked with that, so you’d left it at the hospital.

With a sigh you sat on the bed and grimaced a bit at the hardness of the mattress. Not exactly comfortable, but you’d make do. If it meant not losing your life, you’d lose some comfort. The remote was next to the bed so you grabbed it and turned the television on, turning the volume down a good deal just in case. You never trusted these places.

One channel surf later you landed on the news. It touched on a bunch of national stuff before it narrowed in to local and you waited to see if anything would come up about the killer. It never came.

After the news cycled over to some infomercials, you grabbed some money and left your room, locking it behind you. You checked your surroundings carefully before you headed down the stairs to the vending machine.

There were only about five cars in the parking lot besides yours. You looked over each and tried to commit them to memory before you stepped into the alcove where the vending machines were. You grabbed a bottle of water and an energy drink from one and then some chips and some chocolate from the other. Hands full, you stepped out of the alcove and looked around on your way to the stairs.

Six cars.

You stopped where you were and stared at the new car, a nondescript dark colored sedan. Between the distance and the darkness, you couldn’t tell if there was anyone in the car. They were parked in front of the office though, so it was possible that it was another person here just to get a room. It wasn’t far off the beaten track from the interstate so maybe they found it the same way you did.

With a deep inhale, you held your breath and ran up the stairs. You had to juggle the items in your hands to get your key back out and back into the room. It didn’t stick this time so you were able to get in and shut it behind you in mere seconds, locking it and the chain behind you.

Then you pulled the chair from the corner and pushed it in front of the door.

Once that was done you put your items down on the dresser and moved further into the room. The bathroom was open so you could see into it clearly, but you turned on the light and looked around just in case. Even checked behind the shower curtain. Then you checked the half closet which wasn’t really big enough to hold a grown man.

You looked under the bed but there was a trundle bed so not enough room for someone to fit.

Satisfied that the room was empty besides yourself, you went over to the window and peered out. The angle you had didn’t allow you to see much, but you could see your car at least.

Tomorrow you’d head out to a nearby grocery or convenience store to get what you needed for the rest of the week. Once you were through the week and could head to the meeting place with your dad, things would be fine. You’d be safe again.

You still couldn’t believe that Billy was the one doing this to you. Part of you refused to believe it, the part that had had sex with him and laid in his arms the whole night. The rest of you had more questions than you had answers and when faced with the unknown, you had to rely on what you could put together. Your dad had said he couldn’t be certain but felt it was a close enough similarity to demand you leave and save yourself.

That night when you curled up on the hard as hell mattress, the thin blanket pulled over your body and the television providing light into the room, you weren’t sure you’d ever fall asleep. Not with how your brain was on turbo mode.

But you were able to finally fall asleep somewhere after two in the morning.

—

The third night at the motel had been as uneventful as the other two. You had gotten some food at a nearby convenience store so you didn’t have to rely on vending machine snacks. You also got a deck of cards so you could play solitaire with yourself to waste time.

The news still didn’t say anything about what was happening, but you had to imagine there were constant murders in the city so maybe it didn’t make the radar yet. You didn’t know how many more deaths it would take for it to hit the news cycle but you hoped it didn’t get to that.

As you crossed the room to do your hourly check of the window, you wondered what everyone else was doing. Your dad, Karen, Frank…even Billy.

Since you’d been in the motel, you’d spent a lot of time thinking about Billy. Thinking about him being the killer, thinking about it all being a miscommunication. The more you thought about him, the less you felt certain one way or another.

As you stared out the window, you checked the parts of the parking lot that you could see and then looked over to where your car was parked. As you looked at it, you noticed someone walking past your car and towards the office. It was dark so you couldn’t make out who the person was, but you traced their steps back to see if there was another car nearby that they had come out of.

There was a truck not far from your car that was in line with the path they were taking, but it had been there since yesterday.

You looked at the chair in front of your door and made sure it was still pressed against the door. This way at least you knew you would have a warning if someone tried to get into the room while you were there.

Back on the bed you grabbed the cards and shuffled them a bit. It was time for more solitaire. You really wished you’d grabbed something else, anything else at this point. It was hard to go without a phone to spend your time, but you were making do.

A noise outside made you look over to the window with the blinds down. A streetlight let a little light in and you stared at it for a long time until you watched a little darkness move over the window. Someone was walking past your window towards your door.

You held your breath and waited. When you heard the door beside yours open, you let it out with a sigh. It was another person staying in the hotel.

Without winning the current game of solitaire, you turned off the light and stacked the cards on the bedside table. You had a flashlight that you’d gotten at the convenience store that you kept nearby as you curled up on the bed, your eyes on the window and door. When no sounds came to you, no change in the minimal light that trickled through, you felt yourself drift off to sleep.

A dream came to you then, while you dozed in and out. A darkness seemed to pour into the room from the ceiling, like a shadow but more solid. The darkness seemed to melt and shift along the lines of the ceiling, never fully there as you stared up at it.When you woke up, it was with your back to the window and door, a blank wall in front of you. The first thing you did was look up to the ceiling but there were no shadows moving around.

You rolled over to your other side and immediately checked the window, but nothing had changed. It was still dark out there, still a slight amount of light pouring through the window. You blinked lazily and rubbed your eyes before you looked at the door to check that the chair was still there.

It wasn’t. It was in the corner now and someone was in it.

You sat up and opened your mouth to scream, but it didn’t come out as the occupant leaned forward and was lit up by the incoming light stream.

Billy.

“How’d you find me?”

There was a beat of silence as he nodded then sat back so that he disappeared a bit from your sight.

“It wasn’t easy. You really tried to drop off the grid. It’s my job to be able to find people though.”

“Yeah,” you said uneasily as you shrank back in the bed a bit, your legs pulling to your chest and bracing just in case you needed to jump up. “How’d you get in here without making a noise? The chair…”

“Took some maneuvering. I figured you’d do something like that.”

You blinked and tried to nod a bit. Of course he’d know how to get through your defenses. You should have known.

“What are you going to do to me?”

It was quiet for a long moment before Billy leaned forward again to look at you. You wished you could see whatever emotions were in those dark eyes, but from this distance the dark brown was pitch black and it made you feel hunted.

“Why would I do anything to you? I just wanted to make sure you were safe.”

Safe. You’d heard the word a lot, but it had been a long time since you felt it. And right then, with Billy sitting in a chair across the room, you didn’t know if safe is what you felt at all.

What was the next step? Did you confront him for who you suspected he was? Did you wait for him to prove you right or wrong?

“Why didn’t you let me protect you? I could have gotten you and your dad somewhere safe. Then maybe…”

You watched as he looked away from you, his eyebrows furrowed.

“Maybe what?”

He looked over at you and shook his head.

“You left your phone at the hospital so you hadn’t heard. The killer broke into the hospital, somehow got through the security we had on your dad. He survived, got a few stab wounds, but the killer took down two of my men and a police officer.”

You felt sick. Your body bowed in and you pressed your face into your knees as you thought about it. At least your dad was alive, but being stabbed on top of already suffering from the car accident couldn’t be good.

“He’s alive. He’ll stay alive,” Billy said as a hand came down to rest on your shoulder.

You jerked backwards as he touched you, body nearly falling off the bed as you tried to get away from the touch. When you looked up and met his concerned gaze, you couldn’t help the pitiful laugh that came from you.

“What will it take? What do I have to do?”

Your stomach rolled as you thought about what he might say.

“What are you talking about?”

At some point tears had started to flow down your cheeks as you stared up at Billy. His hand on your shoulder, the scent of the cologne that he always wore, it made you feel lost in memories you couldn’t afford to be lost in.

“He heard your voice. The day of his accident, he heard the killer and when he heard your voice at the police station, he said it was you.”

Billy’s hand fell to his side as he stared down at your crumpled form.

“My voice? So you…what, think I’m the other murderer? This whole time. Even from when you were in high school?”

You closed your eyes for a long moment and then shook your head.

“I don’t…I don’t know Billy. He said he heard you. And every time there was a murder, you weren’t with someone who could account for your whereabouts. What am I supposed to think?”

He crossed his arms and took a few steps back to lean against the wall across from you.

“I’ve killed before. More than a few times and not all of them deserved it. But I never killed anyone stateside that I didn’t have to.”

You wrapped your arms around yourself as you stared at Billy.

“He heard you Billy. He recognized your voice.”

“He had a concussion. Maybe he heard something, someone, but how could he be sure it was me? Especially since the second time was just over the phone.”

You wiped the tears out of your eyes as you stared up at him.

“I can’t take the chance Billy. I can’t take the chance that you’re someone who wants to hurt me.”

“I could never hurt you,” Billy swore as he walked closer to you. Then he shook his head as he turned away. “But you’re right. You can’t take the chance. If I’d known this was your worry, I never would have come here.”

He got to the door and right as you thought about telling him not to leave, to ask him to talk the rest of this through with you, he opened the door and things happened so quickly after that.

A masked man stood on the other side of the door. The moment it came open, he raised his knife and brought it down hard into Billy’s shoulder. You screamed and shoved yourself up and off the bed, body stuck between going to the door and further away.

You grabbed Billy and pulled him back, body slamming against the door to try to close it. Billy threw his body weight into it too, wincing as the shoulder with the blood pouring through it slammed against the wood. The two of you got the door slammed shut but you still didn’t move.

“Believe me now?” Billy asked through gritted teeth as he moved around you to peer through the peephole. “He’s not there. He’ll come back though.”

You nodded as you tried to get your brain to get back on path. While Billy kept his body against the door, you grabbed a washcloth from the dresser and pressed it hard against his shoulder to stem the blood flow.

“What are we going to do?”

Billy accepted the cloth and held it against his shoulder. With his free hand he reached into his jacket and pulled out a knife which he pressed into your hands. As you were about to ask what he was going to use, he pulled a gun out of the waistband of his jeans and checked that it was ready..

“We need to make a run for the car. We can call the cops once we’re on the road.”

You nodded and grabbed your wallet from the dresser and shoved it into the pocket of your sweats. There was nothing else here that you needed to make sure you had. Prepared, you grabbed Billy’s uninjured shoulder and gave it a squeeze.

“I should go first.”

“I don’t care if I was missing an arm. You’re not going first,” Billy said through gritted teeth as he shoved the cloth under his jacket. Then he moved to tuck you behind him. “You stay at my back, okay? Keep the knife up and let me know if I need to turn and shoot. Are you ready?”

No.

“Yeah,” you breathed as you stood at his side.

He went out first and looked both directions a few times before he motioned for you to follow him. He gestured to keep you close to him. You stepped out and didn’t bother shutting the door as the two of you headed to the stairs. As you made your way past the front office, you noticed blood sprayed on the wall behind where the man had sat at the computer.

“Oh god,” you whimpered as you kept as close to Billy as you could.

“Eyes forward baby, we can’t wait. We’re almost there.”

He was leading you to his car, not yours. You looked behind the two of you to see if someone was out there, aware of what was going on, but you saw nothing. Heard nothing but the pounding of your heart between your ears.

At the car, Billy unlocked it and tugged you to go to the passenger door. As you reached out, you saw something from the corner of your eye.

“BILLY!”

He spun you around and thrust himself between the two of you, his gun raised at the man that had been running at you. He stopped, his knife still raised. The eerie black mask tilted this way and that as he stared at the two of you.

“You can’t win. Gun beats knife.”

“I don’t have to win. I just have to take one of you down with me.”

That voice. It sounded similar to Billy’s, enough that if you’d heard it you might think the same thing. But you didn’t dwell on that as you watched the man launch himself forward at the two of you. The gun went off and the attacker faltered, but he kept on running. When his body ran into Billy’s and shoved you against the car, you heard the gun skitter to the asphalt.

As the attacker stabbed the knife into Billy’s side again, the moan of pain coming from the man you were trying to hold up, you realized that you didn’t have a choice. You had to lean around Billy to do what you needed to.

The knife went straight into the attacker’s bicep first. Then you pulled it out and swung out, harder this time. As it went into the attacker’s neck, Billy reached up and took hold of your wrist and thrusted it in harder. The attacker’s scream echoed through the emptyish parking lot, you stepped around Billy and pulled the knife out before you plunged it in again.

Billy’s hand didn’t leave your wrist as you thrusted the knife into the man’s neck and chest, over and over. When the attacker fell, you almost went with him just to keep going, but Billy wrapped an arm around your waist to keep you up.

“He’s gone,” Billy said into your ear as he held you tight. “He’s gone. You can stop.”

You closed your eyes for a long moment before you looked at the body slumped at your feet. He was gone. He was gone and this was over.

The knife fell to the ground next, clattering loudly as it bounced a bit. Your eyes burned as you stared at the man who had tried once more to end your life.

“Who…”

Billy squeezed your hip and then bent down. You shook your head because you didn’t know where Billy’s wounds were but you were worried he would hurt himself worse than he already was. You followed him down, hands immediately on his sides to check his injuries.

“No, no, stop,” he said as he pushed your hands away for a second. “We need to…”

He reached out for the man’s mask but you grabbed his wrist and stopped him. When he pulled his hand away, you reached out for the mask yourself.

The man under it was completely nondescript. You weren’t sure that you’d ever seen him before in your life, not here or back home. He looked like any man you may have passed on the street a thousand times.

“I don’t know who that is,” you said as you stared at him.

“He’s dead. That’s who he is.”

You slumped on the ground next to the car. When Billy passed his cell phone to you, you immediately dialed 911. Billy needed an ambulance. And this needed to be put to an end immediately.

As the dispatcher answered, you remembered the first time you’d made this call. Instead of staring at the death of your mom and brother, you were staring at Billy’s bleeding body and his tired eyes.

“911, what’s your emergency?”

“I need an ambulance and a lot of cops. We were just attacked by a known serial killer and we had to kill him to defend ourselves.”

Billy smiled with pride at you as he reached out to grab your hand in his.

—

The room your dad was in was a different one this time, but you found it easily enough. When you walked in, your dad was talking to the nurse quietly. She smiled and waved at you as she turned to leave, giving you the space to nearly climb into your dad’s bed to hug him.

“I’m so glad you’re okay,” you mumbled softly as you tucked your face into his neck.

His arms went around you and you noticed one arm didn’t have the same strength as the other. Still, he didn’t let you go for a long time.

“I’m sorry sweetheart,” your dad finally said as you pulled away. “If I hadn’t accused Billy, this wouldn’t have happened.”

“We can’t think about what might have happened,” you said as you grabbed his hand to hold it tight in yours.

The injuries from the accident were mostly healed but now your dad had the knife wounds to heal from. The doctors promised that he would make a full recovery and that it wouldn’t hold him back any.

“I’m just glad it’s over. That you’re safe.”

You sat with that for a long moment. As terrified as you had been for so long, even before you knew there was someone out to get you, it had been so hard to feel safe. Your memories and nightmares kept you on the edge, even when you were supposed to be safe.

The only times those memories and nightmares stopped were when you were with Billy.

“When he’s better, I want to meet Billy. I want to apologize in person. He deserves that much.”

You glanced at your dad and then back down to your clasped hands.

“If I hadn’t left, he wouldn’t have been hurt. I should have talked to him, heard him out instead of just running.”

Your dad squeezed your hand until you looked up at him.

“It’s not your fault. I told you to leave. You listened to me.”

“I’m an adult dad, I could have stood up for myself at any point. I believed you because I think part of me didn’t trust Billy but I should have.”

You knew things about Billy and Frank, things that made it a little easier to believe that he would. Although knowing those things, you shouldn’t have assumed anything. You knew Billy better than that. At least you should have.

“It wouldn’t surprise me if he told me he never wanted to see me again.”

You tugged on the fabric of your scrub pants, provided by a nurse at some point. The police had gathered your clothes for evidence since they had been drenched in blood. Mostly Billy’s.

“Kiddo, from what I’ve seen and heard since all of this happened, that man isn’t going to turn away just because of some stabs. He moved heaven and earth to find you when you ran off. The only other reason for him to do that besides being the killer is because he cares.”

You laughed and shook your head, but didn’t say anything. Instead you moved to lean into your dad’s arms once more.

“It’s all going to be okay sweetheart. It’s over.”

He was right, it was all over. It was going to be okay.

Somehow.

—

The room Billy was in was on a different floor. When you knocked on the door, his voice called out that you could enter. He was sitting up on the bed, a tablet in his hands as he looked through it. When he looked up, he seemed surprised to see you.

“Hey,” you said slowly, drawing the word out a lot longer than it needed to. “I don’t have to stay or anything, I just wanted to check on you.”

His eyebrows furrowed as he put the tablet down to the side.

“Why wouldn’t you stay?”

You shifted a bit before you took two steps into the room.

“You wouldn’t be in that bed if it wasn’t for me. Plus the whole, you know, thinking you were a serial killer thing.”

Billy laughed which surprised you. He gestured you over to him and after you glanced over at the chair a few feet away, he made a soft ‘tsk’ sound before he patted the bed beside him.

As you sat down on the very edge of the bed, Billy made that noise again and tugged you to him. You immediately froze and checked to make sure you hadn’t landed on any of the bandages on his chest, but he shook his head when he could tell what you were looking for.

“I’ve had worse,” he said as he put his hand over the bandage on his side.

“Billy, I–”

“Unless the next words out of your mouth are ‘understand that this wasn’t my fault’ then I’m not sure I want to hear them.”

“It was my fault though. If I hadn’t left without even talking to you, hadn’t thought you were the killer, you wouldn’t have had to come find me. You wouldn’t have gotten hurt.”

Fingers under your chin made you move your head until you met Billy’s dark eyes.

“Given the chance, I would always put my body between you and danger. Whether or not you thought I was the danger. And in the end, you know I wasn’t involved.” After a beat of silence, he narrowed his eyes and gave you a small smirk. “You do know that I wasn’t involved, don’t you?”

You laughed and leaned into the hand on your face a little.

“If this was a movie or something, it might not mean that you were uninvolved. But this isn’t a movie, it’s real life. So no, I don’t still think you were involved.”

Billy laughed and released your chin but only so that he could reach down and run his fingers over your wrist a bit.

“I’m just glad that nothing happened to you. It would have…I don’t think I could have handled it if something would have happened to you while you were running from me.”

You didn’t want to think about that either. Billy being there had been a fluke, it should have just been you against him. That made you look at his bandages once more.

“It feels wrong somehow that you and dad got hurt this time but I didn’t. I’m glad that Frank and Karen had gotten out of town and were safe, but I came out of this without a scratch on me and both of you had been attacked.”

“I like to think of it as cosmic karma.” At your confused look, Billy explained. “The last time, you were the one that went through it all. You saw the dead bodies of your mom and brother, you got chased around the basement, you’re the one that had to fight for your life, you’re the one that still wears the scars. In more ways than one. So this time, we were able to take that for you. We can bear those for you.”

You didn’t even realize you were crying until he wiped the tears away. You sniffled and wiped at your face as you looked away from a long moment, gathering your thoughts.

“Do you think…”

You didn’t know how to continue the thought. When you didn’t, Billy called your name. As you looked up, he leaned forward until he could press his mouth against yours.

“Karen and Frank will be happy about this development at least,” he said as he pressed his forehead against yours. “They’ve been telling me to get over my hesitation and ask you out for a while. I just wanted to give you space until you were ready.”

With a laugh you raised your hand and pulled Billy back in for another kiss.

It had been a tough few years since the original murders. Safety had been hard to come by. Since then you had kept yourself caged and terrified the whole time. It had been hard to make connections with people over the last few years. But now? Even before the encounter in the parking lot with you killing the man who had tormented you.

Now you were thinking it was time for you to live your life once more. You smiled and leaned back between kisses to mutter two words to Billy.

“I’m ready.”

Thank you for reading this year's Halloween fic! I hope you enjoyed!

#billy russo #billy russo x reader #billy russo imagine #billy russo fanfic #my writing #run run run

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xxsycamore · 6 months

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👻🕸️🦇 IKEVAMP SUITORS IN A HORROR-MOVIE SETTING ! 🦇🕸️👻 (headcanons)

Happy Halloween! Yes, this includes all 17 suitors. I'm no expert on the genre but I thought this might be fun! Some of them die. I'm sorry. Warnings: everything that can appear in a horror movie really, including mentions of death, mass murder, blood, gore, torture, cults.

If you feel like reading something more goofy where everyone lives, try Pumpkin Carving Competition At Saint Germain’s Mansion or maybe even “Welcome to Saint Germain’s mansion, please have a fang-tastic night.”

𝐍𝐀𝐏𝐎𝐋𝐄𝐎𝐍

The "okay guys, we need a plan" guy and welp, he has a sword, he is willing to walk in front, why not trust him? 👍🏻✨He's totally the one to hide being infected because come on, how are they gonna get out of there alive if the leader is down? Has a dramatic scene where he's fighting off the transformation in secret. Ends up being saved by someone and survives.

𝐋𝐄𝐎𝐍𝐀𝐑𝐃𝐎

Leonardo is the one you find along the journey, mistaking for an enemy at first as you get into his trap... when it actually turns out he's been there long before you, surviving all alone in this post-apocalyptic setting, adapted to it, prepared for every danger out there with gadgets he made himself! He might not stay alive until the end but plays a key role in the plot.

𝐌𝐎𝐙𝐀𝐑𝐓

He tried to warn them not to do anything stupid... He's now stuck suffering from the group's bad decision-making. He doesn't even know how he ended up there. Mozart is that one character that you're supposed to hate for being an asshole. At one point he falls in danger that specifically relates to a fear of his, and when everyone expects him to sacrifice another person to save himself, he does the opposite. He seemingly dies right there, breaking everyone's hearts, only to be revealed at the very end that he managed to survive!

𝐈𝐒𝐀𝐀𝐂 (credits for the idea goes to @scummy-writes guys she can write a whole fic of those I swear,, it's been such a pleasure listening to her)

Isaac needs to be saved five minutes into the movie... which writes him off as the weaker one from the get-go. This is going to be bad if the situation comes to "we gotta leave someone behind or we all die here!" - but hey, DON'T LEAVE ISAAC BEHIND IF YOU WANT TO SURVIVE! Because the next thing you know everyone falls into this deadly trap that only HE can figure the way out of, using his big brain skills. His worth has been proved! Everyone loves him now! And all he wants is to go back home and never go on a trip with these guys ever again!

𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐇𝐔𝐑

I'm sorry, Arthur dies first. The others are trying to warn him about the cases of victims who've been sucked to a dry husk and he's like "later virgins, i have a date tonight". Yeah his date totally killed him. Bonus points if we're dealing with vampires here, because irony. It's fine though, he's still important to the plot after he dies, because we find his writing diary and he left important cues there while trying to escape from his killer. Maybe he even came close to the truth! He knows his mystery genre stuff after all...

𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐎𝐃𝐎𝐑𝐔𝐒

Theo just does NOT believe paranormal exists, not even after witnessing it with his own two eyes. Worst part, he tries to convince the others too. "My broer IS NOT POSSESSED!" Uhuh! Okay Theo! You just saw cryptic images appear on his canvas without him even moving the brush but I guess he was just trying a new painting technique!! And he levitates too and his eyes are tar black but what do we know... Once Theo realizes the situation, he's out there swinging a bat (sexy), ready to beat the shit out of whatever caused this, and he's good at it. Don't worry about him dying.

𝐕𝐈𝐍𝐂𝐄𝐍𝐓

Poor baby Vincent is every sinister ghost/demon's number-one target. Vincent listens to the voices. He sympathizes with them! He makes friends with them! Maybe he doesn't even need to be possessed at this rate... Same story with joining a cult, honestly. When their bad intentions begin to come to light, Vincent puts up a fight and is suddenly not as easy to control as they thought.

𝐉𝐄𝐀𝐍

Jean might take some bullets from our main cast while someone shouts "IT WON'T DIE!" but it's fine he's used to it... he's been dead for quite some time and not just inside. Jean is probably the result of some sick experiment about making an immortal army of warriors and. It's sad. But it's fine because he joins the protagonists now! He's friend! I hope they apologize for calling him a monster. No, he doesn't die by the end of the movie, but at what cost?

𝐃𝐀𝐙𝐀𝐈

"Oh, it was just Dazai." Of course it was, someone has to be that one idiot that scares the shit out of everyone until he becomes the boy who cried wolf. Which usually ends with death! I'm sorry Dazai. At least they can take him seriously now and pay some more attention to the strange things he kept on saying.

𝐒𝐇𝐀𝐊𝐄𝐒𝐏𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐄

A very old-school villain! Bonus points if the setting is modern yet he still has a villain's lair and all that. There's something beautiful and tragic about him and he probably dramatically lets himself be defeated even if he had a chance to escape. Everyone will remember him. Mostly for the mental and physical torture, but still.

𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐓𝐄

"But we have one hour left until the curse kills us all, how are we gonna get there on time?!" *sounds of safari jeep pulling over* "Someone ordered a ride?" - yeah. Comte is here to save the day with the power of money friendship. And not just that! Who is the one who suddenly remembers a family heirloom that is as old as time and suspiciously shaped exactly like the key they're searching for? I also want him to lose an eye or a limb for some reason... just for a little touch of gore maybe?

𝐒𝐄𝐁𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐀𝐍

Gods, Sebastian is the only prepared one, bless him for that. He's read all about that urban legend while everyone's been busy denying its existence. He is not scared at all, too... you might wonder if he's just geeking out during all of this bloody mess or something. He's so important, please don't let him die please don't let him die... he died.

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐋𝐄𝐒

The villain's aide that infiltrates the protagonists' group. By the time his betrayal scene happens and he nearly kills three members of the group with a chainsaw, we get a glimpse of his trauma and that's the key to sucessfully talking him out of doing it, eventually disarming him and catching him. He manages to escape and maybe later returns as an ally! Yay!

𝐅𝐀𝐔𝐒𝐓

Gods he's scary. I'm not watching this. Of course he's the killer, what did you expect? Has a tragic backstory of being used by an even more fucked-up killer in the past to do the dirty work for - and kept doing it even after getting rid of them himself, because that's the only thing he knows how to do. You can't fix him.

𝐕𝐋𝐀𝐃

IT'S HIMMM he's the scary little boy from the photos and the same scary little boy that always shows up in the rose garden and his soul just won't rest in peace!! Shows up in his adult form plenty too, just expect his expression to twist into something horrible every second. He needs to be sealed forever somewhere and it would take three sequels to get to know what would actually defeat him once and for all.

𝐃𝐑𝐀𝐊𝐄

... I'm sorry but there definitely is a lighthouse in this movie. And you can totally trust Drake! The poor guy's body just washed up for you to discover, tragically drowned-oh, wait no, he's breathing. He's totally not the same sailor who died around here many, many years ago. He's gonna keep you good company in the lighthouse alone for miles.

𝐆𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐋𝐄𝐎

Galileo is the one who saw the Thing™ with his own eyes, while he was watching the stars one night ages ago. He dedicated not only his massive research but also his life to this, yet noone believes him. If he somehow manages to find that one missing piece that connects everything together, he will die a horrifying death before he can even share it with the main cast. Rip...

Taglist: @arsnovacadenza @ale-teodora @kimi00twin @otomelady @privilegedpancake @g-kleran @pumpumnnnp @thesirenwashere @ravenarld @kimmy-banana @devonares @galaxyprison @sadshaxk @starshards26 @thewitchofbooks @acethephoenix256 @ikevamp-shrine-2 @nad-zeta @crystal13unny @keen19thcenturygoatsstudent @lordsister @ikemen-banshou @themysticalbeing @otome-scribbles @rhodolitesrose @coornn @kpop-and-otome @queen-dahlia @kisara-16 @chaosangel767 @ikemenlibrary @queengiuliettafirstlady @aurora-morning @aquagirl1978 @ikemenlover24 @mcofthemansion @joy-the-reader @katriniac @ikemen-writer @tele86 @lovely-bubb1es @aria-chikage @babyblue0t7 @rhodoliteschaos @shrimpy-kitsune @nightghoul381 @xbalayage @lucyw260 @kittygrimm88 @my-day6 Let me know if you want to be tagged/untagged!

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panda-writes-kpop · 6 months

Text

bloodsucker, famefucker

A/N: Happy early Halloween, folks! For those who are unaware, I post a light-hearted, sweet fluffy fic and then something more on the horror, gore side of things. This fic is my horror one, so I'd skip this if you're more of a fluff person! I hope the haunted season has gone well for you, and I look forward to bringing more Halloween joy next week. :)

TW: Vampires, horror-esque descriptions, blood, violence against Reader/SuA, home invasion, biting, major character death, mentions of cheating and being a bad partner, OOC SuA, friendship break-ups, the best kind of angst, magic but I bend it to the plot's will, partying, alcohol mentions (everyone mentioned is old enough to partake)

Acknowledgments: Inspired by Vampire (Olivia Rodrigo) and Control (Halsey), and the lovely @sanccharine mishaps gone right series. 🫶 ty for reading this fic ahead of time, and I apologize for any future transgressions in relation to a sequel. ;)

Word Count: 5.2K

( <- Previous Part | Next Part -> | Series Masterlist)

Summary: You're stuck in a rut a few months after your break-up with Bora, but a friendly date helps you feel ready to jump back into dating. Your ex, however, decides that she has to stick her fangs into you one last time to show who's really over who.

♡ Masterlist ♡

“Vampires suck.”

“Yeah, well, no shit,” Yoohyeon sighs before throwing her flashcards against the table, “how am I supposed to pass this exam with basic information like that?”

You sit across from the table in a private study booth on the second floor of the campus library. Yoohyeon, your best friend since high school, is studying for her first Vampiric History exam as you are trying, and horribly failing, to focus on your homework for Applied Mathematics For Sorcery.

Your focus falls back to the screen as your phone displays a bright collection of images from someone you followed. Her smile is bright and immortal, given the sharp front teeth that are proudly bared, but that’s not what you’re focused on.

The fourth picture, since you had dared to scroll that far, was the same vampire locking lips with another vampire from a different coven.

The problem was that you had forgotten to block all of your ex-girlfriend’s friends on all social media, and you were currently staring at a picture of SuA kissing someone else two months after you broke up.

You carelessly toss your phone on the table, forgetting to lock the screen, as Yoohyeon curiously eyes your phone.

“Don’t tell me you’re-“

“-She cheated on me, Yooh. How am I supposed to forgive her?”

“You didn’t, and you walked away from her,” She digs in her backpack, presumably for a snack, “as you should have.”

“Is it okay to not be over her?”

“Hey, don’t beat yourself up,” Yoohyeon tosses a granola bar across the table for you before opening hers, “it’s her loss. You’re the coolest person I know.”

A light smile rests on her face - Yoohyeon always knew how to make you feel better.

“Thanks, Yooh,” You say as you grab the granola bar on the table, “do you have any clue how to solve geometry in relation to spell casting?”

“No, so we’re going to go ask Dami for help.”

You shrug before closing your computer and beginning to pack your stuff up.

“Works for me.”

“Dami-ah!” Yoohyeon pounds on the dormitory door as you pull your backpack over your shoulder.

Your mind wanders back to the photos you saw earlier as Minji, SuA, and Siyeon partied together as if you all weren’t close a few months ago.

As if it wasn’t your fault that your friend group was split in two.

“Dami, answer the damn door before Yoohyeon breaks it down!” Handong calls from the inside as Yoohyeon continues to rap her knuckles against the door.

“I got it!” Gahyeon yells before the door opens. “You guys could have called-“

“I know, but we wanted to surprise you-“

“-You need help with your homework?”

“We do.” You mumble in defeat as Gahyeon gives you a quick hug.

“It’s good to see you, y’know?” She rubs your shoulder before giving you a reassuring look. “You’re more than welcome here at any time, okay?”

“Thank, Gahyeon,” You pause as you let out a deep breath, “I needed a distraction.”

“You saw Bora’s post, didn’t you?” Gahyeon rolls her eyes before closing the door behind you and

Yoohyeon. “We should throw a party, or like a mixer! It would be so much better than what she did.”

“As long as it’s not in this dorm room, I’m down with the idea.” Handong adds in as she is perched on the top bunk of the bunk bed.

Gahyeon crashes on the bunk below Handong as Yoohyeon hops on the bed on the other side of the room.

“Dongie, have you started studying for that exam yet?” Yoohyeon asks as she pulls out her notecards.

“A bit. Do you want to study together?”

“Please help me.” Yoohyeon sets her backpack on the bed as you set your stuff on the bed next to hers.

Your eyes turn to the desk next to the bunk bed where Dami is studying for one of her more advanced classes.

“Do you need help with math?” She asks while doing a computation on her phone.

“I could use help for Applied Mathematics in Sorcery from my favorite sorceress.” You teasingly say as you grab some materials from your backpack.

Dami raises one hand up, and without breaking attention from her studies, she pulls another chair up to the desk.

“Thanks for that,” You set down your notebook, pencil, and computer, “and I apologize in advance because you’re going to need to re-explain this entire chapter to me.”

“Why does everything you say make more sense than whatever the professor was going on in class?” You sigh in relief as you submit a perfect homework assignment online.

“You’re welcome. I’m happy to help with anything.” Dami takes care to emphasize the last word as your phone buzzes.

“I’m sorry,” You pause for a moment to grab your phone from the table, “let me look at this before we change subjects.”

You open up the notification that takes you straight to your text messages.

Unknown Number: Jagi, I’m sorry that I hurt you so much.

Babe, why won’t you answer my texts? I know you blocked me but I missed up.

*Messed ypu.

Fuck, I just miss you, and I’m not sorry about it.

“Who is it?” Yoohyeon peeks over the top of the bunk bed as you toss your phone to her.

Dongie manages to catch it before Yoohyeon’s face does, and they gasp in sync with one another.

“She did not-“

“Oh, she did,” Yoohyeon looks at the alarm clock with a chuckle, “and she’s already drunk before nine o’clock.”

A hand on your right arm pulls you back to Dami, who looks at you with confusion and concern mixed together in her gaze.

“Are you alright?”

“I’m just tired of the constant reminders that I wasn’t enough for her. It makes me wonder if I’ll ever truly be over her, or if I’m just going to miss her for the rest of my life.” You quietly admit as Gahyeon snatches your phone out of Dongie’s grasp.

“What are you-“

“-That’s it! I’ve had enough of them,” Gahyeon spits out before grabbing her phone, “and we’re going to do something about it. Everyone, clear your schedules on October 30th. We’re throwing the best party that this campus has ever seen!”

Gahyeon hands you back your phone, and you quickly shove it in your pocket as she starts typing on her phone.

“This is great and all, Gahyeon,” Handong climbs down the bunkbed to grab something from the mini fridge, “but I’m only okay with this plan if they are.”

Dongie’s eyes meet yours as she quickly places a reassuring hand on your shoulder before bending to grab a drink from the mini fridge next to you.

“I think it’ll be fun, especially with Gahyeon planning it.” You gently move Handong’s hand from your shoulder as you nod at Gahyeon. “Just let me know what I need to bring, okay?”

Gahyeon cheerfully pumps her free hand in the air as the other girls laugh at her antics.

“Okay, Yooh and Dongie, since you’ve got the most experience with party planning, I’ll need you to-“

Your eyes go back to Dami, who wistfully stares at the girls in front of her.

“You don’t have to go, y’know?” You take her hand on your arm and interlace your fingers with hers as you set your hands on the table, “I wouldn’t want you to feel uncomfortable just for my sake.”

“I don’t mind, I promise. I just don’t like going to parties that-“ She pauses until you nod at her for permission, “Bora and Siyeon used to drag me to.”

“If Gahyeon gets too out of hand, Dongie will reel her back in. I want this to be something fun for all of us, a moment to stop worrying about school for a night.”

“Are you sure that school is all that’s on your mind?” Her eyes dare to read within your mind, and despite the turbulence within your heart, you find yourself at peace when discussing such matters with Dami.

“I don’t know if I miss SuA anymore, or if I just miss having someone to tell every silly little thing to.” You confess.

“You know I’m always available to talk to you, no matter the hour or day, right?” She asks as you nod, “As for the other matter, why not put yourself out there again? Just go on a less formal date, something low-commitment, to see if you want to go back into the realm of dating.”

There’s a spark of expectation and hopefulness in her as her eyes linger on your intertwined hands for a moment, but her gaze quickly returns back to you as you open your mouth.

I wonder what that was about…

“For someone who doesn’t do a lot of dating, you have awfully good dating advice,” You tease as a small blush crosses her face, “and that’s not a bad idea. I think it would be good to put myself out there again, just

as a test.”

Dates were something of a new area for you, as most of your dates with SuA included staying home and studying or going out with friends and partying. You were also around a group, so you had the comfort of a friend to look at for.

Here, in the coffee shop, it was just you, the coffee cup you were holding on to for dear life, and a cute elven girl named Chou Tzuyu.

“How are you finding your studies?” She asks before tucking a small piece of hair behind her ear.

You were, to say the least, mesmerized by her beauty, so you cough and shyly look away when you notice that she is speaking to you.

“They’re going well, but having an individualized major instead of a set path of study can be stressful at times.” You admit as you recall your struggles with math earlier in the week. “Math has been a struggle for me, but I have a friend who is bright like you.”

“I’m not the only one you get answers from?” She raises an eyebrow at you as you scoff.

“I can do the homework for my humanity-focused classes, but these sorcery classes are kicking my ass.”

You roll your eyes as you think of the pile of math homework awaiting you. “I’m thankful for your help with the history classes, you are a lifesaver.”

“You’re helping me practice teaching when I go for advanced studies at the university, so I am thankful for you as well.”

You take a small sip from your cup as your thoughts wander again.

This is going okay, and she’s really pretty, but I’m not feeling anything special like I did with-

“Why did you ask me on a date?” Tzuyu directly asks as your heart sinks in your chest.

Oh no, she’s going to think this is a rebound and I’m going to lose another friend after everything-

“You don’t have to tell me, though,” She gently grabs your hand before you squeeze your coffee cup past its

breaking point, “but I think there’s someone else you’d rather be here with, no?”

“Huh?” Your eyebrows jump to the top of your forehead as an amused smile dances across her features.

“Oh, you didn’t know that she…” Tzuyu trails off before shaking her head. “It’s not my business, though. You’ve got a great group of friends behind you.”

“Does that still include you?”

“Of course, who else will help you with your history classes?”

You smile before taking another sip from your coffee cup.

Maybe this ‘date’ wasn’t a total failure.

You slip through the large crowd of people who have collected in the living room of Gahyeon’s friend’s house. She was out of town for a couple of weeks, right around Halloween, so Gahyeon got permission to do so. The only caveat was that the five of you had to clean up and stay the night to make sure the house was taken care of, but Gahyeon roped everyone into it without much worry.

Without a red solo cup in your hand, you do stand out, but Gahyeon committed to having a dry party that could still be fun without excessive drinking. You had to hand it to her - the set up of the party and the house allowed for all sorts of activities for all sorts of people.

You were in charge of food, so after grabbing another food tray for the spare bedroom, you were trying to make it through the crowd in one piece. While batting stray hands and partiers away, you offer a quick wave to Tzuyu, who stands in the corner by herself.

She joins your side once you break from the crowd, and you make a sharp left as she follows your pace.

“The party’s great.” She says as you knock on the bedroom door.

“You should be thanking Gahyeon. This is all her idea, I just showed up with a few food trays.” You push any praise to Gahyeon, who opens the door with a large smile.

“Thank you!” She snatches the tray from your hands as Tzuyu leans on the doorframe. “You both are welcome to come in - we’ve got plenty of board games to spare!”

“I thought you would’ve been out with the music and partiers, Gahyeon.” You step inside the room before looking back at Tzuyu. “You want in?”

“I think I’ll head back to the living room. Dahyun said she’s challenging someone to a dance-off, and I have money riding on her winning it, so I need to make sure my investment was worth it.”

You laugh to yourself before waving her off.

“Have fun with that, Tzuyu.”

She nods before disappearing back into the hallway.

You turn to look at Gahyeon, who admires you with wide eyes.

“So…?”

“There’s nothing between us, I promise,” You grab a piece of cheese from the tray and toss it in your mouth,

“but it was nice to try to go on a date. I’ve been missing that sort of connection in my life.”

“That’s good-“

“Ah, Yoohyeon, the point of the game is to avoid my property-“ Dongie teases Yoohyeon from the left side of the bed as Yoohyeon folds her arms and huffs.

“Yah, you’re so mean to me!”

“Pay up,” Handong holds out her hand for money, and Yoohyeon reluctantly places the cash in her hand, “now, was that so hard?”

“I don’t like this game,” Yooh pouts before her eyes land on you, “c’mon, we should play a new game so all of us can play together.”

“The five of us can play Monopoly-“ Dami chimes in as Gahyeon sets the tray down on the nightstand.

“-Let’s just play Mario Kart before Yoohyeon owes Handong real money.” You settle the argument by turning

on the Switch as Yoohyeon cheers.

“See, I knew you’d have my back!”

Gahyeon and Handong are perched on the bed as you and Yoohyeon sit against the front of the bed. Dami moved her chair closer to the TV so the five of you can play together.

Most of the freeloading partiers have gone home, so there’s no need for the five of you to take shifts to manage the crowd. The only people left are friends of friends who are raiding the last of the snacks and drinks before heading out of the door.

“That was a really successful party, Gahyeon,” You say as the winning animation plays on the screen, “and it looks like everyone who came had a great time.”

Gahyeon smiles brightly before excitedly pulling out her phone.

“I bet the whole party is all over everyone’s socials,” She taps her screen a few times before her eyes widen, “oh shit!”

Your head snaps back, along with Yoohyeon’s, at her exclamation.

Dongie leans over to look at Gahyeon’s phone, and she has a remorseful look on her face.

“Minji was here.”

“Minji was here?” You and Dami say at the same time as Yoohyeon immediately stands up.

“I’m going to go out and chase everyone else off… just in case we have any lurkers.” Malice slips into the last word she speaks as Yoohyeon quickly exits the room.

You want to offer to help, but you don’t think you can face her after everything that has happened with Bora.

“It’s not your fault, you know,” Dami slides off her chair before sitting next to you, “we chose to stand by you when everything happened.”

“You all were friends long before Bora and I got together, and I-“ You pause as tears threaten to fall from your face, “I ruined everything.”

“You ruined nothing,” Dongie reaches towards you and rubs your back for a moment before looking at the phone again, “but I learned that some of my friends weren’t who I thought they were.”

“If I had known…” Gahyeon wistfully says before putting her phone aside, “If I had known that SuA had cheated on you, I would’ve told you right away. The worst part about everything wasn’t hearing it from you - no, we heard it directly from her, and she was proud of what she did.”

Gahyeon sniffles before the waterworks come out, and you find yourself wiping away tears as Handong wraps an arm around her.

“It’s not your fault,” Dami repeats as you lay your head on her shoulder, “I would choose you a thousand times over. I think about how everything played out, sometimes, when I go to sleep, but I don’t regret anything. I met one of the best people in my life after everything that happened, and I couldn’t be more thankful.”

“Minji and Siyeon chose their sides, as we chose ours,” Handong reassures you while holding on to Gahyeon, “and I don’t miss the drama, the fights, and the black-out parties.”

You laugh as you wipe away more tears.

“Those parties were awful,” You reminisce as a memory comes to mind, “I remember having to nearly carry SuA home because she was drunk past the point of walking straight.”

“Forget walking - Siyeon tried to kiss me!” Handong exclaims as you laugh alongside her.

“I do miss them, sometimes,” You softly admit while playing with your shirt sleeve, “and I wonder if things had played out differently, if we’d still be friends.”

“I think those ‘what-ifs’ are better left alone, at least for tonight,” Dami gently wraps her arm around your shoulder as you lean into her body more, “we’ve got plenty of work ahead of us.”

“Babe, c’mon! Pictures are fun.” SuA tugged on your sleeve as you fixed your hair in the reflection of your phone screen.

“I don’t look my best, and you always look so much better than I do.” You pull your sleeve away from her before putting your phone away.

“At least you can see what you look like!” SuA yells before stomping off to go meet with the campus photographer.

Confusion mixed with anxiety makes an unholy cocktail, one that’s worse than whatever is in the red solo cup in your hand. You toss the drink to the side of the yard before throwing the cup away as the thought of SuA’s recent uptick in outbursts gnaws at your mind.

Was it you? Did you say something wrong? Your hair and outfit really was a mess from dancing at a crowded party, and you weren’t in the mood to get photographed. Was that such a grievance in your mind?

You probably struck a bad nerve by looking at your phone, considering her lack of reflection, so it would be best if you apologized so you could move on. You wonder how many more times she’ll run off before you stop chasing her.

You shake off the thought, she’s probably just stressed from midterm exams. You push through the crowd of people in the backyard as you head inside the frat house. Before you lost sight of her, she had been heading to the living room to see the photographer that wanted to take a picture of “the happy couple”.

Only if they knew.

You break through the crowd once you’re inside, and a quick glance to the left tells you that you’re not getting through the line of people waiting to use the restroom. You turn to the right, and are met with a frightening display in the living room.

Your girlfriend, the girl you adored from the moment you met her, had her hands and lips all over someone else.

Part of your heart, part of your innocence, and part of your joy shriveled up and died in that moment, but not just because of SuA.

It was watching two of your older friends, the two people you trusted most, watch the scene in front of them unfold as if nothing was wrong. You didn’t scream or cry, not right away. You simply turned back around, pushed through the crowd of people with more force than before, and got a ride home.

A simple text saying “We’re done” and a few blocked phone numbers and social media accounts were enough justice for you, but the world is a karmic bitch who likes to have the last laugh. Before you blocked SuA, she had posted a video of the scene you had just witnessed, with one simple caption:

“For you, my dear.”

In a sweat, you pull the blanket off of you and sit up on the air mattress. Gahyeon sleeps peacefully to your left (the girls played rock-paper-scissors for the spot and she won), and Yoohyeon and Handong are fighting over the covers on the bed in their sleep.

After rubbing your eyes and grabbing your phone, you glance over to the cot where Dami was sleeping, only to notice that she was no longer there.

Weird.

Turning on your phone, you blind yourself with the power of a thousand suns before looking at the time.

2:33 a.m., and I went to bed at 1:00 a.m. It’s going to be a long night.

Nightmares came and gone, but they were always supposed to be based in fantasy or fear, not reality.

Having the same scenario play out, over and over again, as if you can change anything that had happened, was maddening.

You would usually call one of your friends when you felt like this, but they were all sleeping peacefully, so you decided to look for the other person who would be awake at this hour. Dami was one of the first asleep most nights, so your calls and texts would go unanswered, but she was always the first to text or call you back if she missed your call.

She had always been a pillar of calm confidence, of self-assured belief in oneself, and you question what had brought you two together during orientation to the university. Perhaps you looked like a duckling who had lost sight of its mother, or perhaps she was just as lost as you. Either way, you had found one another and had been inseparable since.

Dami had been the one to introduce you to her friends, and you had gotten along especially well with SuA. Push comes to shove, one night’s confession turns to love, and the two of you were dating. If you were to be technical, everything that had happened so far was Dami’s fault, in a way.

Guilt buries itself in your consciousness as you shift blame from Dami to yourself. It wasn’t her fault that SuA had acted in such a way. The two of you were fundamentally different people - she liked parties and darkness and temporary pleasure, and you liked quiet afternoons and board game nights with friends and working towards a goal greater than yourself. What had drawn you to each other was tearing your relationship apart - you had nothing in common, but yet again, you had nothing in common.

You’re careful to not blind yourself as you check the time on your phone.

2:34 a.m.

You get out of bed, as quietly as possible, before gently opening the bedroom door. You notice that a light

has been left on towards the direction of the kitchen, so you head that way.

A creak in the floorboards underneath you causes you to pause, as if you’re some sort of horror protagonist. You can imagine how they’d jump and scream, but you were simply worried about waking your friends… right?

You walk much slower as the kitchen starts to come into view. A figure stands by the kitchen island while wringing off their hands with a towel.

“Dami?”

Their head snaps in your direction, and you sigh before slipping your phone in your pocket.

“I’m happy to see you because I can’t seem t-“

When you go into the kitchen, their face is revealed in the light, and a scream threatens to break from your lips.

A disheveled SuA stands in front of you, and she’s covered head-to-toe in blood splatters. When she smiles at you, blood leaks from her lips and drips onto the tile flooring.

As your mouth opens, SuA makes a quick maneuver towards you and pins you to the nearest wall.

“You know,” She gasps for air as she eyes your neck, “we could’ve done this the easy way while you were sleeping.”

“Fuck y-“

Her hand covers your mouth as she bares her teeth and plunges them into your neck. You scream into her mouth, but her strength is no match for yours. You’re sure a dagger in the neck would be more comfortable as she carelessly drinks from you.

You had imagined your death before, but it was nothing like this. You had to fight back, one way or another.

As your vision starts to soften due to blood loss, you scan your surroundings for something to help you. On a table within your grasp, you notice that a wooden spoon used for punch had been haphazardly left there without being cleaned up.

I hope no one can tell the difference between two red liquids…

You manage to grab the spoon before the strength in your body starts to give out. Color and brightness and darkness and nothingness swirl in your vision as you attempt to plunge the dagger into her heart.

The coldness of the floor meets your check, and survival instincts kick in as you slowly crawl away. Your vision dances with the cold lighting as you pull yourself towards the light. A strangled cry escapes you as something grabs onto your leg with crawls tearing into the flesh of your thigh.

You’ve lost your weapon, so you can only assume that it has made contact with SuA or did enough to scare her off. Your eyes adjust to the surroundings as your neck burns with the pain of a hundred bee stings. The grip on your leg loosens as you crawl towards what looks to be a phone.

You hope you can get to the phone before you pass out as a wave of nausea causes you to place your head on the floor.

“Did you hear that scream? I think someone next door had too much to drink-“ Gahyeon’s voice is the last thing you remember before your eyes shut permanently.

Heat soaks your body as your eyes open to a light being projected right into your eyes.

“I don’t know how much more I can do… the puncture wounds are too deep.”

A soft hand is placed against your neck as the light is pulled from directly above you to the side.

“You’re awake...” Dongie sits to your side as your head turns the opposite way to look at the rest of your surroundings.

“SuA… she-“

“Don’t worry about SuA, she’s dead.”

Your head snaps towards Handong as your breathing quickens.

“Dead-“

“Why would you say that? You’re going to kill them before they have a chance to make a proper recovery.”

Yoohyeon leans on Handong as you start to see more of what surrounds you.

You’ve been moved from the kitchen to the living room, but time has barely passed. The darkness outside starts to creep in as your vision slowly fades to black.

“We’re losing them-“ Handong cries out as someone else walks toward you.

“Dami!”

You push away the darkness as you immediately prop yourself up on your elbows. Handong supports your back with both of her hands as Yoohyeon places a washcloth against your neck.

“Don’t do that-“ Handong begins to scold you before

“It’s okay,” Dami raises her hand before sitting beside you, “we need them awake.”

“Is this going to work?” Yoohyeon softly asks as your eyes dance around, looking for another person.

“Gahyeon is out looking for Minji, Siyeon, and Tzuyu,” Dami calmly answers as you look back at her, “and I just need you to focus on staying awake. We’ll be okay as long as you’re okay.”

Dami reaches for a book as you focus on your breaths.

Do this one thing for them - it’s easy enough.

You fight against the numbness, the pain inside of you as Dami flips through the book with ease until her hand finds the right page.

“Are binding spells safe?” Yoohyeon asks as Handong scoffs.

“Not in the slightest, but they’re better than resurrection spells.” Handong rubs your back before looking back at Yoohyeon.

“Are you serious? We’re using untamed magic-“

“-Resurrection spells are untamed magic, binding spells are unreliable-“ Dami corrects as Yoohyeon raises her eyebrows in disbelief.

“-you have to be kidding me!”

Your head falls back as your resistance starts to fail.

“Dami, hurry up-“

“-I’ve got it.” Dami takes your spare hand and intertwines it with hers. “Do you trust me?”

“I always have,” You mutter as your eyelids flutter rapidly, “and I always will.”

She glances away for a moment before closing the book and tossing it aside.

Dami mutters something in a tongue unknown to you as a soft purple smoke surrounds the both of you.

“Get away-“ Handong backs off from you as you support yourself with your arms.

“They can’t-“ Yoohyeon argues for a moment before Handong drags her away from you.

The purple smoke grows closer and closer around the two of you until it disappears just as quickly as it

came.

Your resolve cracks and crumbles until nothing inside of you is left to fight.

I should have never introduced the two of you, this wouldn’t have happened if I was more careful-

Dami’s voice rings through your mind as her eyes pierce your soul.

It was never your fault, you answer her with your thoughts, and I’d do it all over again if it means I got to be close with you.

You’re out before your head hits the pillow, but not before a small tear runs down Dami’s cheek.

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lyrabythelake · 1 year

Text

Pumpkin Timeee

I love Halloween, here’s a little fic

Seasons may change, but Time’s commute back from the castle stays more or less the same. Yes, there may be life-size plastic skeletons in the windows of most houses right now, but if you can ignore that, along with the badly carved pumpkins and the entire graveyard that was erected overnight in one garden, it is really no different to any other day.

For Time, Halloween is an occasion that brings very real fear to his heart. There isn’t much distinction between each year; he can pretty much count on Legend terrorising them all with his latest attempt at special effects makeup (last time he had genuinely convinced Warriors he had chopped his index finger off cutting a cucumber), Wind will watch a horror movie and spend the next week with night terrors, and Hyrule will eat so many super sour sweets he throws up.

All in all, not his favourite holiday.

Not that he wants to tempt fate, but today has been remarkably uneventful. Only three people dressed up at work and no one has tried any pranks or jump-scares (he may be known as the Hero of Time in some circles, but that doesn’t mean he’s immune to those surprise jump-scare videos on YouTube), so he’s in a pretty good mood.

That is, until he walks into his house.

“What is this?”

Which, he commends himself, is an admirably calm reaction considering whatever it is has left his kitchen looking like the scene of a large, gruesome pumpkin massacre. And actually, that might be an apt description of what millions of children do every year on the 31st of October when they carve hideous faces into gourds while their parents try their best to keep them from cutting their fingers off.

Millions of children and, of course, his idiot friends.

“We’re carving pumpkins,” Wind says distractedly, his tongue held between his teeth as he focuses intently on stabbing his knife multiple times into his pumpkin.

“I can see that. But did you have to do it in my kitchen?”

“Yours is the only one big enough for all of us.”

A fact that has made him repeatedly curse his and Malon’s past selves ever since they first viewed this house and exclaimed how perfect the large, open plan kitchen/living room would be for having all their friends round for dinner sometimes. They seriously overlooked several important factors like how now all eight of the boys seem to be in their house ninety percent of the time whether he and Malon are home or not.

“You don’t think you might have overdone it?” He’s referring to the literally countless number of pumpkins on every surface–he tallied thirteen before he lost count–and the sloppy mountain of Pumpkin innards piled so high onto the table that it very nearly reaches the ceiling.

“Oh, that?” Wild gestures casually at Mount Pumpkin Guts. “I’ll make it into a pumpkin pie or something.”

“Far be it from me to ever doubt your cooking skills, Wild,” Time replies, “but do you plan on making a pumpkin pie the size of Hyrule Town?”

Wild shrugs.

“So I’ll make some pumpkin cupcakes as well.”

“Where did you even get all these? I don’t think I’ve seen this many pumpkins in one place since I last went to a pumpkin farm.” Which, for the record, was many years ago because he hates the taste.

“Hey, look, I made you!” Wind looks incredibly pleased with himself as he turns his pumpkin around to show a very roughly carved face with a line through one eye and markings that may or may not be supposed to represent his own.

Time’s eye twitches.

“Hyrule grew them in his garden,” Legend tells him. Hyrule looks at Time with a haunted look that tells of a very serious miscalculation.

“They got a bit out of hand.”

Oh, and would you have it, his hand is stuck into a bag of Super Sours. What a surprise.

“Don’t get your pants in a twist, we’ll clean everything up at the end,” Warriors says, clearly noticing the looming aneurysm in Time’s future. His pumpkin has a knife stuck in its head and is carved to look like it’s screaming in pain. Time can relate.

“There better not be a speck of pumpkin on these worktops by the time Malon comes home.”

#lyra writes #linked universe #linkeduniverse #modern au #hope you have a good halloween if it's something you celebrate!

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hellhoundmaggie · 1 year

Text

5 Songs

**Share 5 songs related to your current WIPs (art or writing related)

**If you don’t have a wip, you can share what you like about your top 5!

tagged by @cymatile, thank you cymatile

I usually don't listen to songs with lyrics when writing, because they're too distracting. Often I'll throw on that lo-fi hip-hop beats stream. But I will sometimes listen to a thematic song or two before writing to get in the proper headspace. And how convenient, I made up a playlist for my blorbo, Wayne Scarlethollow! Listen to it why doncha?

There are 13 videos on that list, but I will pick out my Top 5 songs from it and explain them! In no particular order:

1. Mx. Sinister (I Don't Know How But They Found Me)

And I'll get you yet (I'll get you yet) I've got to make you mine Just know I'm not the sinister type

Wayne kind of understands that he strikes people as creepy, but when he tries to be reassuring it just comes off as even creepier. But he's literally neurodivergent and a miner, so I'm willing to give him a pass. In fact, it's part of his charm.

2. I Will Possess Your Heart (Death Cab for Cutie)

How I wish you could see the potential The potential of you and me It's like a book elegantly bound but In a language that you can't read just yet

The way the instrumentals slowly build from a simple bass riff into an intense soundscape over more than four-and-a-half minutes before the vocals even kick in! Gives me chills, folks. Plus the stalker's smug condescension and certainty (or false bravado?) that he will earn his target's love captures Wayne's attitude to a T.

3. The Point of No Return (The Phantom of the Opera)

Past all thought of right or wrong One final question How long should we two wait before we're one?

If you watch the clip from the Royal Albert Hall's 2011 production of PotO, you'll understand why I picked this song. You all can see it, right? I firmly believe that events similar to the PotO scene will play out in Episode 6. Wayne will walk on in to Avery's party, letting the guests assume he's a guy with a bitchin' Halloween costume, and give MC a big ultimatum. MC must either leave their friends to the horrors and go with him to (relative) safety, or stay with them all and probably die. The drama!

4. Liebestod (Tristan und Isolde)

Do I alone hear this melody, which wonderfully and softly, lamenting delight, telling it all, mildly reconciling sounds out of him, invades me...

The final aria from Tristan und Isolde captures not only the tragic romance aspect of the Waynemance that I think the devs are building towards, but also how bizarre a Waynemancer MC must be to pass over a bunch of nice, conventionally-attractive people for a scary zombie man. Yes Sybil, Wayne is my friend and we're in love and I am drowning in his song and sweet smell. Why are you looking at me like that?

5. Under Attack (ABBA)

This is getting crazy, I should tell him so Really let my anger show Persuade him that the answer to his questions is a definite no (I'm kind of flattered I suppose)

"Stop following me! uwu" A bouncy 80s pop song is a fun way to close out a playlist full of heavy tracks and serious themes. And yet there's a haunting quality to this one. Again, I don't think the Waynemance is going to end well. But it's going to be a lot of fun, won't it?

Tagging @lytorika, @itsmewahoo, @nimbexy, @shanklinthestabpossum @kris-mage-fics. No pressure!

#wayne scarlet hollow #ask game #wip #fan playlist

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scary-grace · 7 months

Note

Ask Game please. 🙏

2, 4, 8, 9, 12, 14, 15, 16, 21, 26 and 35.

It's alot I know but the list is full of great questions.

Thank you for the ask! Some of these were answered elsewhere, but you gave me a lot to work from <3

2. Why do you write fanfiction?

Answered here!

4. Are there any writers that inspire you?

Answered here!

8. Which character(s) do you find easiest to write?

Answered here!

9. Which character(s) do you find most difficult to write?

Answered here!

12. Tell us about a WIP you’re excited about.

Currently I'm working on a bunch of Halloween fics! The ones I'm most excited about are an Erasermic Train to Busan AU and a Barduil fic where the Bowmans are about to fall victim to an ancient omen of death -- and have to seek help from an unorthodox source. Here's a little snippet:

14. What’s your favorite fandom to write for?

Answered here!

15. What’s the weirdest fandom you’ve ever written for?

I have done a lot of writing for the Redwall fandom! For one specific character in the Redwall fandom, to the point where that character's tag consists almost entirely of my fics. They're not bad fics, but there's a reason I made a new Ao3 when I started posting Tolkien.

16. Any guilty pleasure trope(s)?

Anything hurt/comfort, verging on whump. I'm also into anti-hero/anti-villain characters and sometime in the last six months I became a repentant villain simp. But my favorite trope is always going to be good old mutual pining/it's requited, they're both stupid.

21. Favorite pairing to write for? (platonic or romantic!)

Barduil, although I doubt that surprises anybody. I never run out of ideas for them!

26. Is there anything you’ve wanted to write, but you’ve been too scared to try?

I've always wanted to write a mystery, but I'm not very familiar with the genre! Plus I tend to blend genres a bit, and I worry I would get sucked into romance or horror or action and forget that I'm supposed to be writing a whodunit.

35. Ramble about any fic-related thing you want!

My biggest flaw as a fic writer is my inability to let stories go. Almost everything I write turns into an expanded universe of some kind, up to and including my recent venture in to villain-simping x reader fic. I think I don't like saying goodbye to settings and characters I've enjoyed, and my mind can basically always generate new nonsense to put in a word document. I've been thankful with how patient everyone has been with my inability to just leave things alone!

35 questions for fanfic writers

#asks

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philtstone · 2 years

Note

Bucky, 5

#5 -- barefoot in the kitchen so there were like 3 separate directions i could take this prompt and i cycled through a few of them before landing here -- one version got mostly written and then tumblr ATE it, which may have contributed to the sudden left turn into Big Angst territory -- and, basically, i am just throwing this out there and trying not to overthink it. the prompt is supposed to be bucky centric. for context, this ficlet is a direct follow up to this chapter of "all i wanna do is wash your clothes", in which an old hydra lab record of bucky's reconditioning process gets leaked onto the internet for 24 hours. i dont want to colour the fic in the wrong light but pls note this is rated a hard t and involves a pretty involved panic attack and mentions of dissociation and mild/momentary hallucinations. a lot of this thing attempted to be an exercise in show don't tell, which may have worked OR may have turned it into a collection of moments in a trench coat with no clear through line. sorry in advance for the angst, i am not a licensed mental health professional but do have a healthcare background, bucky is an unreliable narrator with specific opinions on and understandings of his issues, and i hope u enjoy. also, apparently without a shred of context i decided to really commit to the blade references? idk, it's almost halloween. <3

The difference between wisdom and paranoia, Bucky’s always said, is knowing when to leave the house.

Well — he hasn’t always said it. But in the past seven years or so, it’s definitely come up.

He’s not a recluse, is the point that he makes to Sarah, three days before the Trader Joe's Incident. It’s just you can never be too careful these days. By you he means she and the boys because if he is paranoid about anything it’s dragging his horrors into their already complicated life.

Sarah says for the tenth time (it is really the second time, but it’s been implied plenty), “You’re not dragging anything anywhere. I invited you in, baby.”

“That doesn’t make me feel better,” Bucky mumbles, staring at the innocent salt shaker on the table like he’s trying to commune with it. “People do that with vampires and look where it gets them.”

“I thought Sam said that was a myth,” she says, buttering a piece of toast. “On account of the —”

“We agreed to not bring up that guy again.”

She grins sympathetically, and for a moment the surreal hell of their last week disappears. It is just Sarah and her cute cupcake-print pajamas (emblazoned with a cheesy sugar related pun across her breasts) and his own bare feet against the kitchen tile in the hour before bed.

“Because he gave you the heebie jeebies —” she starts, indulgent, and he knows she is smiling like that because they both could not deny he was a handsome bastard and also dressed like someone of of the Matrix, which Bucky has not yet seen, all to say added insult to the injury of Bucky’s seventeen-year-old phobias materializing out of nowhere.

“Sarah,” he says, and Sarah sighs.

“B. We’ve been over this. I’ll tell you if it gets too much.”

“And, and this isn’t … too much?” This, the twenty-four hours in which she and the world were intimately exposed to Bucky’s tenure as some cross between Frankenstein’s monster and those rats scientists used to experiment on before research ethics boards were a thing. Also, his tenure as a killing machine. But at least that wasn’t in the video.

Sarah hasn’t seen it. She says so, and he believes her.

“I still think you need to be careful,” he continues, before she can reply. “People will want — well there’s fallout, anyway, and people talk – they talk, and they know you. You have a business to be thinking of—”

“Here,” Sarah says, “eat this.” She holds the toast out to him. She’s already had to sit down and talk to the boys about it, in detail, because people talk. She canceled a trip to the hair salon because people talk. She compared it to the first week after her husband died even though that was not the same thing at all.

Maybe folks gave pitying looks, but no one had been invited to hear Big Cass screaming in pain.

“You’re not listening to me,” Bucky says.

“I am listening. I’m also noticing that you skipped breakfast.”

So did she. And he can see the strain under her eyes. Bucky points this out with a mulish edge so she takes a pointed bite of the toast and holds it back out.

Sighing, he takes it. Peach jam drips onto his fingers. The golden yellow colour of its syrup looks orange oozing over the black plating of his knuckles.

“Don’t overthink it,” Sarah says. “My motives are selfish here.”

“What motives,” Bucky asks, confused.

“Making sure you eat, baby. I like a man with meat on his bones.” She brushes the crumbs off her fingers while he looks at her, overcome with a complicated fondness that doesn’t undercut his fear, “It’s been seven days. Give it another ten and there’ll be a new thing. That’s what all the kids are talking about anyway, micro trending.” She pauses, cups his cheek, makes known his cue to squeeze her hand tightly in his own – “Hell if I know.”

And that is, in many ways, a good way of summarizing it.

Resilience is a weird thing. Dr. Naimi talks about it like stretching, like his brain is some strange variation on Kamala Khan’s whacky superpowers. You stretch to make up for how unsafe your situation feels, and some people can stretch a lot more than others. Bucky is, apparently, one of those people – they still haven’t figured out if it’s a him thing or a serum thing, though Dr. N talks about them like they’re all part of one whole – which has pros and cons. Pros: his laundry list of fucked up mental health issues is real, but not institutionalized headcase real (they spend twenty minutes reworking his phrasing on that one). Cons: sometimes, that makes it harder for him to notice that the stupid little rubber band in his head is about to reach its limit. Which is not fun. For anyone involved.

Bucky’s working on it.

Working on it doesn’t necessarily mean fully figured it out.

On Wednesday Sarah is working late because there’s some issue with the freezer and Bucky looks into their own freezer and realizes that everyone forgot to get groceries this week – it seems he and Sarah are both inclined to skip over basic tasks like breakfast and groceries when they’re overly stressed. So he considers his week, and how relatively muted his anxieties have been, and how generally, it hasn’t been worse than any other weird week. He’s been sleeping poorly and has to force himself to pick up Sam’s daily calls sometimes (Sam calling daily is a new thing, for sure), but he’s okay. He knows everything that happened happened a long time ago. He knows there are people around who love him, and he knows he’s pretty okay at keeping them safe. Staying in the house would be more paranoia than it would be wisdom, and AJ is at Ms. Gloria’s doing his homework, so he and Cass go to Trader Joe’s.

At first, everything is okay. That is a sentiment that changes pretty quickly.

“Milk,” Cass reads from their list, quoting Bucky’s own notes somewhat theatrically to him as they stalk the yellow-brown toned aisles. “‘Whole, not the stuff that tastes like water’.”

The routine of it should be soothing, but Bucky is having a hard time not noticing how many people are looking at them. Paranoia, his brain supplies. Sarah said most people would forget the video within another week. Except, oh, that second week hasn’t passed yet, and it feels like everyone’s eyes are physically touching him.

Bucky wheels them over to the dairy aisle and grabs the milk. The dairy aisle is cold, and the milk carton under his right hand fingers is cold. He hates the cold.

“Ummm … Mom said to get the block cheese cause we’ll get more use out of it …”

“Mom’s right,” Bucky says loudly. Focus. Four more items. Then they’ll be done. There’s an unfamiliar couple standing by the yogurt, pointing and whispering in a way that makes it clear they’ve thought just little enough about him they haven’t considered his superhuman hearing.

He tries to refocus on the squeaky wheel of their cart and drown everything else out. Quite suddenly he remembers that the medical cart in that room squeaked too. He can hear it skittering away because his elbow smashed into it, five minutes before his arm was locked down again, squeezed tightly under metal clamps. He only just stops himself from grabbing at his arm to rip off the clamps, which are momentarily, horrifyingly real in his memory. Also, squeaking sounds an awful lot like whimpering (not really, but the connection’s already made), and he –

“Elbow macaroni,” Cass reads aloud, over-enunciating. He’s standing closer to Bucky now, swinging one foot in and out as he directs them. Bucky locks confused eyes with an old woman examining the frozen pizzas and she shoots him a sympathetic look.

He blinks to look away from her and they’re standing in the juice and drinks aisle.

Cass is jogging a little to catch up to him and looks confused.

“Macaroni,” he repeats, even slower than before.

Fuck.

“Macaroni,” Bucky says. Hadn’t be been going in that direction? He doesn’t remember turning in here. It feels like the whole goddamn Trader Joe’s is buzzing with people’s chatter. “Okay.”

“I can get it,” Cass says. He runs away before Bucky can say no, the word a panicked thing caught at the back of his throat. He needs to keep Cass safe. What if someone approaches him? What if someone demands –

No. They’re in Delacroix. People gossip but they won’t hurt a kid. Except other kids, maybe – Cass has a shiner on his cheek from getting into a fight at school. Because of the goddamn video. Kids kept talking about it like it was an action movie or something – would it look like that? To other people? Bucky never watched it but he remembers it, sure. Under his skin. In the cracks of his head. He’d have thought horror movie. Maybe. But then, those are a big craze these days. Kids like the adrenaline. They were big in his day, too, only maybe he was just a chump and didn’t get the same kick outta them as everyone else.

Becky thought vampires were thrilling, for example.

You didn’t drag anything anywhere, baby, I invited you in.

Fumbling, Bucky grabs the nearest bottle of tomato juice and focuses on reading every word on the label to himself. Then he translates every word on the label into Czech. And then Spanish. Xhosa next. They don’t have a word for zingy and Bucky realizes he is muttering zingy out loud over and over again with a frown on his face and the woman standing in the aisle next to him is shooting him covert, alarmed looks. She’s – Bucky’s brain lags – music teacher? Isn’t she the music teacher at Cass and AJ’s school?

“Got it!” Cass says, skidding back into his line of sight.

They still don’t have half the items on their list, but Bucky manages to say, “Okay, c’mon,” in his steadiest voice and steers Cass and their cart towards the checkout. In the line, Bucky grips the handle of their cart so tightly it begins creaking and Cass has to touch his elbow to let him know. Violently, out of nowhere, the cart handle is a human trachea. Bucky yanks his hands away and nearly knocks over the little display of sugar free gum.

A few of the small colourful packets scatter to the ground like hacky sacks amidst the gasps of surrounding shoppers; Cass gets to his knees to pick them up.

“Sorry – sorry,” Bucky mutters, barely hearing himself. The buzz is louder than ever and his heart has started pounding. He’s terrified that someone who is not Cass is going to try to touch him and he’s going to freak the fuck out. He needs to get down and fix this. No – he needs to go up to the cash so they can get out of here –

“Next,” says the cashier. It’s Emily, sweet kid, Bucky knows her, she always grins when he comes through the line. Joe Langston hired her ‘cause she had good penmanship and could write up all the colourful chalk signs like no other TJ’s in the county. She smiles at him, rings through the two cheeses. Then the milk. Then the macaroni. She falters, distracted by the people whispering behind him in line. Cass isn’t even trying to hide the way he’s glaring, chin stuck out, so Bucky grabs his elbow and pulls him over and around to his other side. “Hey –!” Cass starts, and vaguely Bucky recognizes them from some church function Sarah helped out at, middle-aged and light skinned and probably the most average people in the world, morally speaking, but they aren’t even trying to hide the way they’re looking at him.

He needs it to stop. The words please stop nearly crawl out of his mouth and at the last second Bucky bites down on them, because they’re too much like – they’re just like when – his skin crawls, then prickles, then hurts outright, all the way up to the base of his scalp, and then it’s gone. He doesn’t understand it. He went to the tackle shop two days ago and people looked and pitied and shied away and it was nothing like this. Someone even said something inane like mad respect, dude, and Bucky had been able to handle it.

“Twenty-four thirty,” Emily says, turning the card reader towards him. Her uniform shirt is way too big even on her chubby frame and her eyelash extensions curl ludicrously up and down at him over freckled cheeks. The door of the management room on the other side of cash opens and closes and a larger figure walks over to them, framed by the too-colourful background of sunflowers and orchids, encroaching on Bucky’s consciousness. And those chalk signs, with Emily’s loopy script all over them. “You got your discount cards, Mr. Barnes?”

Right – Emily would remember, because Emily helped him set them up, and is going through her little routine like Bucky isn’t having a full-blown psychotic episode for the first time in months in the middle of the Trader Joe’s –

“Discount,” Bucky manages, even though it’s getting harder to breathe. He resists the urge to clamp his hands over his head, like that will somehow make things stop. This is the worst it’s been in ages. Maybe even never, here, in Delacroix. No – Sarah’s shed, one time. That was really early on. He had a meltdown in Sarah’s shed because it was too dark and something caught against his neck and that was somehow much stupider than this, so surely he’s grown, he’ll have to tell his therapist but the idea of calling feels like this impossible hill to climb right now and Sarah’s been doing so well living through this, all of this, like she is okay with it all, but she’s not, of course she is not, he notices how she can’t go through the day without touching him so many times and maybe that’s her own way of working through things and maybe she needs a therapist too and that would be his fault just like Cass’s goose egg is his fault and –

“If we can please afford our fellow shoppers some basic human dignity,” says Joe Langston’s deep, carrying voice, out of nowhere, over the top of Emily’s head.

Oh. It was him who came out of the management room. Joe rarely snaps but there is a clear edge to his tone just there. The buzz of the check out line vanishes instantly. Joe’s standing, as usual, the tallest person in the room, both arms crossed over his wide torso above the slight curve of his belly. In the periphery of his blurry vision Bucky can sense the way one person’s mouth is opening and closing like a stupefied fish. Joe leans forward and Emily looks relieved.

He says, like he would say anything else,

“You payin’ with card or cash, B?”

“Card,” Cass supplies quietly, his teenaged voice a little raspy, when Bucky doesn’t immediately respond. “Thanks, Mr. Langston.”

“No problem, son. You let your uncle take his time.”

In the quiet, Bucky reaches into his pocket and fumbles with his wallet. His hands are shaking so badly it takes three tries to tug the credit card out.

“Take your time,” Joe says again. He adds, more quietly, “You know what to take off, Em, you don’t need the discount cards.”

“Right – right.”

Bucky puts the little tags for the veteran’s discount onto the cheap plastic laminate anyway.

In five minutes, they are back in the car. Once both doors are slammed shut around them, blocking out the world, Bucky puts his forehead against the tacky curve of the pickup’s wheel and takes as many long, shaky breaths as he can. His shoulders hurt and the back of his t-shirt feels damp with sweat. Slowly, the cacophony dies down. The truck’s solid beneath him, reminding him only of itself and nothing else. The inside of the car is warm, and that helps bleed some of the tension out of his frame.

Cass, in the passenger’s seat, remains totally silent.

When his breathing has returned to normal Bucky sits up a little, elbows leaning against the wheel, and rubs a hand over his eyes, then his mouth, then up and into his hair. He can’t help but notice now, after everything, that he had strode into the Trader Joe’s in just a t-shirt covering his arms without even thinking about it.

“Hey,” he says, his voice quiet but not hoarse. Somehow he was expecting it to be torn up and overused. It is instead the same as it often sounds, if maybe a little weak. “Cass. Buddy, I’m sorry, we’re gonna have to wait another couple minutes. I don’t think I’m okay to drive yet.”

Cass nods, his bony shoulders turned in, his knees pulling up so the heels of his sneakers rest against the dash. “It’s okay.” After a minute, he adds wisely, “Mom says Titi Joan once got into an accident ‘cause she was drivin’ over to whoop her ex-boyfriend’s ass, and she was so worked up she drove right into Mrs. Thomas’s pool.”

Bucky huffs out a breath that isn’t quite a laugh; he has indeed heard this story. It’s a family classic, mostly because no one actually got hurt. He doesn’t bother to correct the shameless use of ass, and instead focuses on taking stock of his body. Everything seems to be functioning as normal. He has a mild headache, but his heart rate’s gone down, mostly. He’ll need a shower when they get home. Only after all of this does he say,

“Cass. Are you okay?”

Cass doesn’t answer at first, only tilts his head in a way very reminiscent of his mother. His sweet face has gotten pimply in the last couple months, and the bruise on his cheek swells purple beneath the dark plastic frames of his new glasses. Pretty soon Cass’ll be nearly as tall as Bucky is – maybe even taller. He’s seen old pictures, after all.

“Yeah,” Cass says finally, shrugging. “You didn’t do anything too weird. Except when you forgot where the macaroni aisle was.” Bucky can’t help but smile a little crookedly even though the muscles in his face feel all wrung out. Cass adds, hesitant, “This was a brain thing, right?”

Bucky looks up at the ceiling of the car. “A little bit.”

“‘Cause sometimes people’s brains can freak out, like, without expecting it, if bad shit’s happened before. That’s what you told us, right?”

This time, Bucky raises two eyebrows instinctively.

“Bad shit, huh?”

“Bad stuff,” says Cass, rolling his eyes.

Bucky inhales again, his chest filling and expanding with it. The car smells like coconut, like Sarah’s lotion really, and a little bit like fish. It always smells like fish around here. Even when it’s cold, it smells salty, and it was never like that before. His muscles are still a little shaky, but getting better by the minute. “Yeah,” he says aloud, to Cass. “Yeah, exactly. Cass –”

But Cass is already nodding. “Okay. Can I practice how to shift gears again while we’re waiting?”

Bucky unbuckles his seatbelt and motions for him to come around while he elbows the door open. The cheese is gonna get squishy in the back but there’s nothing else to do but wait. The air outside is fresh even as it's muggy, and his boots hit the gravel of the parking lot while Cass scrambles out of his own seat and walks around, making the truck groan a little on its raised wheels. He meets Bucky at around where the headlights are, on their way to switch seats. Unprompted, Cass wraps him in a tight hug, one that is just sudden and clingy enough it suggests comfort is needed more than comfort is being given.

Bucky hugs him back, presses his face down into the textured crown of Cass’s head, and lets him stay there for as long as he needs.

#my writing #bucky barnes #sarah wilson #cass wilson #the falcon and the winter soldier #bucky x sarah #sarahbucky #fleur de louve #tfatws #marvel #taylor swift prompt meme #i found a dream #i know i could tag this as bucky barnes whump and get a lot of readership but on principle i refuse to do that #also i hope it's clear that buckys episode is a lot Louder in his own head than it is from cass's perspective

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inlocusmads · 2 years

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The Adventure of the Unquiet Dead

Nora and Trystan are sent on an infidelity case on Halloween and they are completely unprepared, for there are tax-fraud committing-ghosts, scheming poltergeists and a grave that isn't supposed to be there.

Featuring: Nora Rose, Trystan Thorne from Crimes of Passion

Word Count: 2.5k | No Warnings/Teen |

🎵 Listen to Chattering Nuns as heard on Good Omens.

A/N: First of the many case fics to come :) And this time, it is Spooky Season-themed.

It was your classic “infidelity” case. Tricia “Tracey” May was convinced her husband of twelve years, Roy May was cheating on her. Roy was last seen with the company of a younger woman several weeks ago and Tricia had proof, but it wasn’t enough to bring her husband to justice. She’d also mentioned he’d left abruptly on a “work-related” sabbatical of some kind and ever since she’d seen the scathing incident of her husband-who-might-not-be-her-husband next to a different woman who wasn’t her and she hadn’t heard from him ever since.

Now, this case was interesting from the others, because not only did it cross the boundaries into a “missing persons” scenario, but it was equally thought-provoking, because the paperwork trail and the phone messages led Trystan and Nora down a long winding road through hurdles, pathways and other unexpected jolts of danger, before turning left and pouring into the St. Mark Cemetery which was under the throes of Halloween. Squashed between two gravestones was a jack-o-lantern, which was a perfect way to honour both Marsha Arnold (1952-2022) and Cynthia Arnold (1954-2021), who were either sisters or married wives.

“Here he is! Aha! Found him! Roy Gerald Scott May, born 1979, died 2022. Rest in paradise.”

“That’s his name? Roy Gerald Scott May?” Nora stifled a laugh.

“I checked with Luke Watanabe’s records and everything’s where it is supposed to be.”

“So-- we’re dealing with a dead man. Interesting.” Nora rubbed her palms together, a devilish smirk occupying her facial expressions. “Dead men! I love the dead! So quiet-- but the actual problem is, according to Luke’s internet scavenging, Roy should’ve been in a motel in Brooklyn and he has indeed, taken a sabbatical. Now, Tracey is convinced Roy would be seeing this mystery woman there, because that’s what cheating spouses do, don’t they? Just bury the mistake.”

“He quite literally buried his mistake.” Trystan pointed at the gravestone. “The birthday, name, everything’s accurate.”

“Looks like a fresh gravestone. I’d -- you’re not supposed to lick it!”

“I agree. It appears to be straight from the manufacturer’s.” Trystan felt the bland sawdust-like taste on his tongue, before swallowing it with some warranted difficulty. “Tastes synthetic, almost. It can’t possibly be a gravestone. We’ve seen this happen in Drakovia. Lots and lots of times. The only way to dishonour someone long after their passing would be to put up a non-authentic grave stone. One made of, say, papier mache.”

“Well, it can’t be.”

“Only one way to--”

“We are not digging that grave! We’d get mud everywhere and do you want those gravekeepers to yell at us and send anonymous threats via the post? Plus-- there’s always the horror. There are maggots in that thing, isn’t it?”

“Maggots, Maggots. What’s the difference? We’d just have to find a proper shovel and--”

“What we are going to do now is--” Nora squared her shoulders and gave him a proper disapproving look, wanting to look as disapproving as her mother when she brought home an A rather than an A-Plus on her fractions test in third grade. “-- go through the records. That’s exactly where we’d notice small discrepancies. Mulling over the scene of the -- well, Not-Crime isn’t going to help one bit. There’s a cathedral right there. They’d have records for this sort of happening, right?”

“Of course. Cathedrals keep lots of records and don’t they have those scheming nuns?”

“You’ve been reading. And no, nuns work in coventries.”

“Just a little. I promise it is a wonderful book.”

“Well, don’t accuse them of that! We both know what happened to Mr and Mrs Reading.”

“Ah. The Reading Case. Wasn’t pleasant, no. But we got out of it alive and look at us now!”

The St. Mark cathedral was quite extravagant, with the tall ceilings and the stained glass windows of Jesus Christ depicted in various forms. Along the narrow hallway leading up to the prayer chamber, they spotted a nun walking down with a book in her hand.

“My God, you are right. But why have nuns here?”

“It’s a strange church.”

“That isn’t a proper reason.”

“Detective, you’re a detective. How many cases have you solved with “proper reasoning and a step-by-step analysis”, huh? You remind me of one of those annoying petulant pig-tailed children in a schoolhouse, raising their hand and shouting the answer regardless of how correct their logic really is. Sometimes you have to put some faith in the strangeness, how fictitious it can be.”

Nora lightly punched him in the arm.

“Ouch! Now, that wasn’t very nice.”

The two exchanged a brief grin, as if Trystan was indeed right and Nora should loosen up a little. Now, flirting is a rather polarised concept, because despite being hailed as a “throttle” of some kind to the “space shuttle” that is playground romances, it isn’t very well-received in cathedrals. You can imagine the nun’s horror, approaching the two of them; the black-haired one exerting violence on the dark-blonde one and them exchanging a chuckle as if only they knew what it meant.

“Hello. Erm- is there something I can help you two with?”

“Hello to you too! We are looking for records of this man who might be dead, but he’s also alive at the same time. Quantum leaps, tunnels and so on. Long story, but I promise we are not joking. This remarkable woman here is a private detective and I’m obviously a very well-known former Prince. You might have seen my name prop up in the tabloids.”

“I have seen you! You’re Jimmy Rose’s daughter, aren’t you? Oh, how are you dear?”

“I’ve been better.”

“But--” Trystan started.

“Jimmy was everything. I remember when he was just a little rogue college boy! He’d come here often and help us out with the fundraisers. Oh, how I wish he’d just lived a little longer to see us throw this year’s Christmas Eve celebrations! We’re getting a big tree -- from Europe! Europe! And there’s going to be a high-tea breakfast, brunch and so many other wonderful things included. How I desperately wish he was alive to see the lighting!”

There was a brief pause, where Nora spent several awkward seconds staring dead and cold right into the nun’s dark brown eyes.

“I was named The New York Whisperer’s Most Commendable Person of the Year.”

The nun let out a little chuckle. “That’s nice dear. Anyway, what are you here for, Jimmy Rose’s Daughter?”

“As Trystan put it, we need to see some records of the cathedral’s graveyard. It’s vitally important.”

“Ah. Records. I’ve been there too. There’s always this one aching thing--”

While Nora looked quite unfazed by the nun’s long monologue about her father, possibly trying to conclude to her own deductions inside her machined head, Trystan had a rather different approach to things, thanks to his experiences living for nearly twenty two years in the Land Where The Baltic Dragon Rests. Drakovia, albeit being a country full of uptight rule-followers with a strict monarchy, was also equally a country full of liars, crooks and swindlers and in order to carry out a murder-escape successfully, there were only seven or so methods to enforce it.

Trystan had carefully studied robberies in the past, mostly due to boredom and being stuck in his fancy “chambers” with nothing to watch on TV and he’d become somewhat of a half-crook himself; except he was trying to fight the bad, so maybe he wasn’t all that terrible after all.

The first was “handling” the object in question, whether it be a grave full of treasures or a rotten corpse in the back of someone’s truck. Taking the object wherever one went would be one of the many ways one could swiftly climb the Crook Corporate Ladder.

Second, “quick disposal”. Drakovia was a country situated in the mountains, so there were plenty of places to ditch and run and start a new life.

Third, “theft”. Theft is commonly defined as “obtaining something without someone’s permission” and it was an easy rule to break, because at some point in everyone’s lives, everyone would’ve taken something without someone’s permission and was quite prevalent among big cheats.

The fourth method involved “strategically moving it away”, as in taking a big chest of illegal treasure and moving it to an unincorporated place where Drakovia had no jurisdiction. Hence, they can never impose their laws on a land they haven’t occupied. (This has led to many sleepless nights for the Drakovian Border Architects redrawing borders and claiming several pieces of land as recklessly as they could, in an attempt to stop crime they dubbed, “The Buried Treasure Offence”)

The fifth called for “deception” of the highest order. Ultimately, the law enforcement officials were just people in the end and it was very, very easy to fool people into thinking something has happened, when really, it hasn’t.

The sixth, “misdirection” (also commonly referred to as Fifth’s Twin Sister) employed several tactics to stray the Law away from the Crook’s hidden moves. Sort of like an overcomplicated, unnecessary-detailed chess gambit, except it almost always succeeded in the end. Whether be it framing someone else for the murder of their fiancee, the crooks thought of everything, really.

The Seventh, also called “the switch” is the replacement of something else with something else. For example, during the 90s, a rogue team of bandits broke into the Royal Treasury and apparently stole nothing. Except they did and left a massive portion of chocolate coins covered in gold paper to fool the guards. It was funny until King Maksim imposed a nation-wide ban on “things that look like one thing but aren’t that thing” which led to a children-led walkout from schools.

Anyway, there were only seven ways to become a crook and it didn’t matter if you were a small-time fraud in Drakkos or a big-time thief in New York. Crooks always marched the same way, along to the same beat and to the same rhythm. And both Nora and Trystan operated under the assumption that Roy May was a big old crook.

Now, what did Roy May really do? It was a simple answer actually:

Roy May didn’t do anything, because he was already dead for several months now.

So as these two brilliant “detectives” decided to listen to the nun’s long speech, waiting for the prospect of those records; Trystan being wonderfully great at remembering things but not knowing how to apply them and Nora being good at applying things and remembering things, but confusing them because they tied up to form an impenetrable knot that required a quantum computer to sort it out, let us take a look at what really happened.

It started with Tracey May, grieving the death of her “husband” in the month of September; somewhere close to the end.

In order for a New York courthouse to process all that death information, it took them precisely one-and-a-half months, because New York is a densely populated city if you already didn’t know and getting paperwork done was akin to queuing for coffee, because by the time you’re at the front of the line, you have aged at least ten years.

So Tracey had to do something.

The first thing she did was employ handling the task, which typically involved “grieving wife behaviour”. First, she registered her husband’s passing, filled several forms, prepared the coffin ready to go and did everything she could. But unfortunately, it was nearing October, which was very, very close to the freezing season. Funerals are often best suited for the spring, which explained why Ben’s Amazing Graveyard Supplies closed for the entirety of the Halloween season (thanks to rogue teenagers getting them and scaring their friends and thus, depleting actual people in need of Amazing Graveyard Supplies of resources.)

So she had to resort to blatant theft, grabbing her neighbour’s paper-mache gravestone decoration, sending it out for some carving work and thus, couriering it to the cathedral for arrangements. (Her neighbour was extremely normal that way. Halloween decorations, three whole weeks before the thirty-first? See? Normal behaviour.)

Then, she employed strategically moving the problem away and quick disposal at the same time. One quick funeral later with just one priest present, Tracey was done. However, it wasn’t the most profitable outcome of all the outcomes. The funeral cost enough and now she couldn’t afford that beach house she’d wanted. And she had a long list of things too; from sun-hats to dresses, she wanted the dream.

By then, it had been a week already and the New York Courthouse still hadn’t processed the information. So Tracey looked into her book and searched for the next best thing: deception.

“Hello!” she’d called Phone One. “Please book a reservation on behalf of my husband! Yes! It is apparently a sabbatical. His name is Roy. Thank you!”

“Hi!” she’d called Phone Two. “Clarie’s Boutique? Oh lovely! Can you send a couple of low-cut dresses please? Pictures, yes! I’ll be visiting in a few days, it is my bachelorette party soon. Yes! Oh sure! Just send them over to this number! Preferably a model wearing it. It’s not opera season yet, but I’ll drop by Sydney whenever I can!”

“Bonjour, Pierre!” she’d called Phone Three. “Pierre, I have a huge favour to ask. My sister-in-law can’t make it to our big wedding, so I need you to help me crop her picture and put it up next to my husband’s. It’s the only thing I can do for him, hoping it’d be of some consolation. Yeah-- just a hugging pose will do fine! I want to frame it for him! Thank you! And of course I’ll visit Paris soon!”

“Attorney Ives? This is Tricia.” she’d called Phone Four. “My husband cheated on me and has run away. I’ve tried contacting him but he’s never here. I’ve done so many favours for him, loved him and cherished him to the point of metaphorical suffocation. Can I sue him for emotional damage?”

By this time, we're at Week Two. Now, any valid sane person would go, "Come on! Court stuff takes at least weeks and weeks to process!" and you might be right, but Tricia, engaging in several methods of fraud (that won't be spoken of here, as to not inspire anyone to commit several degrees of income fraud), managed to successfully pull it off.

Now, you might also be wondering, “But this isn’t possible! Roy May is dead! He can’t show up!” but according to the New York Courthouse, he is actually alive, until the Suited-Up people intervene and verify his death. And Tricia is one smart woman who moves fast. So what happens when the defendant ignores several court summons? You, the plaintiff, gets everything. Well not “everything”, because “things” are finite-- things, but the point is, you get what you asked for, after lying, cheating, swindling and stealing.

Then again you might also, also wonder, “But that’s stupid! Tricia could’ve just taken things from her husband’s bank account! She’s his surviving partner.” and though, yes, everything could’ve been avoided, it wasn’t simply enough for Tricia. Getting his money was one thing. Getting even more compensation was another and though Roy was dead, his family wasn’t.

So, thanks to legal deception and pulling off several shenanigans, Tricia now owned everything- the May Family Estate, the entirety of the May Family’s wealth, their horses, everything, because the court ruled it was a perfectly reasonable demand and she did have Attorney Ives, who was the best crook in the business.

Before the Mays could accuse her of fraud, Tricia knew she required even more proof. The court bought into her shenanigans because of the one advantage she had: the defendant wasn’t present to make his case. But the Mays weren’t stupid (they were). They demanded to see the papers and try to settle the matter internally. So Tricia consulted the best consulting detective agency in the business.

“Hi. I’m a terribly lonely woman whose husband has cheated on me. Here is his information.” she’d called Phone Five. “Thank you, Detective Rose.”

It was inching closer and closer to the dreaded Two-Month milestone, which meant Roy would legally be declared dead on paper. But Tricia had one thing Roy didn’t: a life. And money. “Lots and lots of moneyyy!” as she put it.

The final move in her long gambit was the misdirection followed by the switch.

“Hello, Sister Mary! Hi! You’ll soon be meeting a woman!” she’d rung up Phone Six. "And she is Jimmy Rose's daughter! Yes, so incredibly traumatised. You should ask her about it, talk about the Church's Trauma Programs. Oh Sister Mary, you are the absolute best! She is very -- very traumatised. Needs a lot of help. Yes. Thank you!"

So as you can clearly see, while Detective Nora Rose and her expert partner, Trystan Thorne were both caught up with the chattering nun, Tricia May bid a fond, permanent farewell to New York, grabbed the next flight en route to Sydney for the Autumn Opera Season on the 31st of October.

Sometimes Halloween is unpredictable that way.

A/N: Inspired by this specific magic trick performed by Penn and Teller on their show, Penn & Teller: Fool Us. Go watch it! It is just, mind-blowingly amazing.

I hope you enjoyed this little piece! This one, specifically was a 3-AM Project, so if I sound weird, it is probably my stupid head acting up again. And if I get any bit of legality wrong, that is on me. So if I ever got it wrong, just let me know!

This is one of those cases which Nora & Trystan are both unable to solve. They eventually do solve it in the coming months, but the perpetrators are gone by then, so there really is no use barking up a tree that's already uprooted itself and had run away.

The title is a reference to a Doctor Who episode, which is coincidentally, very Halloween-themed, featuring ghosts from other dimensions and Charles Dickens.

Tag List:

Perma: @ofmischiefandmedicine, @quixoticdreamer16 @tessa-liam Crimes only: @aallotarenunelma @ao719

Please let me know if you'd like to be tagged for my works. Since I lost a majority of my works & my tag list in my "reboot", I have a hard time recalling things. You can always DM me, send an ask, reblog or comment or get the info to me any way you like. Currently there are 4 lists: Perma, Crimes of Passion only, Open Heart only & Wake the Dead only.

#trystan thorne x nora rose #crimes of passion choices #trystan thorne #nora rose #w:inlocusmads

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koqabear · 2 years

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i got taehyun standard, tyunning limited a, soobin limited b and my solo jackets were sexy choi line but cute tyunning 😭🙏🏼 as for your beomgyu curse i can totally relate, the only pc i've pulled of his without trading was the pob for thursday's child 💔💔 it's a sad life we live

and don't worry i will read insane men even if it takes me my Entire Life. also that's so crazy to think about bc im sure take it must have taken some time??? 22k is not easy to write and you've been working on this even before that.... it's kind of exciting actually?!?!

Omg your pulls sound so good, but it’s like they hide all the Beomgyu pcs… I was fighting for my life when they just decided to throw long haired gyu into the mix

Take it took me about a month I think? I created the doc July 1st, wrote up to the house study scene before I dropped it for a bit to work on the Halloween story, then picked it back up and wrote for days non stop— I got fixated on it lol

the Halloween doc was actually created on march 27th! I wrote a brief outline for it before I left it in dust— then I picked it back up around June/july, changed the plot completely and worked on it bit by bit, then got distracted by take it lol. Now my complete focus is on this story, and I’ve made so much progress <3 it wasn’t supposed to be a Halloween story originally, but then I realized that this story was going to be a psychological thriller/horror— and I was going to have to be very meticulous with the characters.

That’s the biggest thing with yandere fics— it can be a huge hit or miss depending on how you write the characters and their motivations. I’ve always wanted to write a yandere fic, so I’m making sure that I get this right 🫶

#I could go on and on but I think I might spoil things #but I will say that I’m going to continue teasing this story like crazy #masterlist anon!#koqabear asks #future fic: insane men <3

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subpar-ghoulfriend · 3 years

Text

A Family Affair

Slasher AU CannibalFamily!EraserMicxReader

We’re going with the “strange family that lives outside of a small town” trope. After a few deliveries to the Aizawa household you get pulled in to an affair you never wanted to be a part of.

Spooky season is upon us and I’ve already begun watching too many horror movies. This fic will definitely be a two parter

Super Dark Content Warning!!! Literally do not read if you have any reservation and definitely no minors!

TW: cannibal themes, mentions of murder, mentions of corpse mutilation, kidnapping, unhealthy relationships

Part 2 is gonna include more of this and the smut

Growing up you were grateful for living in a small town. You didn't really relate to the coming-of-age stories told in the movies where the small town girl runs off to the big city for a whirlwind romance and a chance at some "big break." To you, small town life was more picturesque than any overcrowded city. You knew your neighbors, and watched a lot of their families grow and change throughout the years. A small town allows you to become a regular at several businesses, including the coffee shop and your favorite diner downtown. Going away to college was tough even though you didn't go far. The nearest city - a little over 40 miles away - had a great college with a program you were really interested in pursuing.

You went home every break and picked up delivery jobs at one of the local restaurants. It was winter break of your last year in college when you first delivered to the Aizawa residence. In all your years at the restaurant they never ordered delivery, one of the two men would always place an order for pick up. The thing about small town stereotypes is that small towns tend to self-impose said stereotypes. The Aizawa's were that family. The one that everyone whispered when they came to town and children would tell horror stories about during Halloween. They were the weird family that lived just past the outskirts of town.

You weren't entirely sure what either of the two men did. Everyone speculated that Mr. Aizawa was some sort of mountain-man-feral type and maybe did some mechanic work for the folks that tend to live in between towns. His husband, Mr. Yamada seemed like the stay at home trophy husband but you heard he did some sort of conspiracy podcast. They had children - reportedly, but no one has really met them - and other family members that live similarly further out into the middle of nowhere. The drive was absurdly long but they were loyal customers and the owners didn't want to turn their request down. Your boss handed you a chunk of bills to fill up your tank before heading out. That's no place you'd want to get stranded, he told you.

The paved road got worse the further you got from town. Forty-five minutes later you were pulling down the dirt road that led to the illuminated Aizawa home. A wall of cold air slammed in to you when you opened your car door and you grumbled about leaving your gloves at home. There was no doorbell, so knocked and did that awkward please-don't-let-me-freeze dance while you waited. Two unfamiliar faces opened the door, an apathetic looking teen and an adorable little girl. Must be their children. The older one called out for his dad before taking one of the bags you held and disappearing into the home. You looked down awkwardly and wave at the girl. She smiled shyly and reached out for the other bag.

"Are you sure?" You asked her, "It's a little heavy."

She nodded.

"Okay, but use two hands," You passed her the bag. "Oh jeez, you're strong. Don't tell your brother, but I think this is the heavier bag."

You smiled when she giggled and ran off.

Mr. Aizawa appeared in the door, "How much do we owe?"

He was just as terrifying up close and for a split second your mind went blank while your basic instincts were begging you go back to the car. He raised an eyebrow at you, looking irritated at your falter.

"Uh - forty-two."

He pulled counted out a chunk of bills and then you were off. You didn't even count the amount until you parked. Forty-two with a forty-dollar tip. They may be odd but apparently they're loaded. You didn't think much of it until the following week when you were heading back to their house with another delivery. You wished that they would order earlier but at least you could hope for another generous tip. You were taken aback when the little girl answered the door by herself, jumping up and down with excitement.

Was she old enough to answer the door by herself?

"Papa," She yelled. "The lady is here!"

She turned her attention back to you with a huge grin, "Shinsou got sore that you told me I'm the stronger one."

Before you could respond to her the other man, Mr. Yamada, bounced around the corner, "Eri, what have we told you about the door? Oh no, you must be freezing come stand inside while I go get your payment. Forty-two right?"

You wanted to protest, feeling uneasy in their entryway but the little girl tugged you by the delivery bags. So you stood there quietly while she ran back in forth so she could unload the delivery for you. Shinsou peered around the corner so you gave a small wave. Then it was just you and Eri once again. In the background you could hear Yamada asking his husband where the wallet went.

"I like your shirt," You smiled, trying to fill the silence.

"I wanted a Pegasus shirt but this was the only one my daddy could find."

"Well I think unicorns are pretty cool too."

You use to babysit for some of the families in town, no part of you could imagine doing that all the way out here.

The blonde rejoined you, giving you another lush payment. You heard the little girl whine about you leaving so quickly until her father appeased her by saying you'd be back.

Something about that rubbed you the wrong way; but you were back like clockwork the next week with their usual delivery. Once again you were brought inside while they went to get your payment. But on your fourth and what should have been your final delivery of the winter break you noticed something was off when you parked. Their truck was missing from its usual spot. Strange but they probably just moved it somewhere else on the property. You had become accustom Eri running to answer the door and telling you wait for her parents in the entrance of the house. You became suspicious after she had run back and forth to take the food to the kitchen.

"Eri, where are your parents? Or Shinsou?"

The little girl's response was nonchalant, "They had to go out, one of our cattle got out. But they gave me the money."

You stuffed the money into your jacket; payment was the issue here. In the back of your mind you though about how you never saw any cattle on your deliveries. A child her age shouldn’t be left alone.

"Oh, well, can I hang out with you while we wait for them to come back?"

The little girl lit up as she pulled you to the living room. There was a kid's movie playing on the TV and she had a coloring book out. Eri divide up her crayons and tore out a page for you to join her. You kept looking to the window, waiting for the truck to pull up.

Suddenly there was banging at the door, which elicited a cry from Eri. You reached into your pocket only finding the crumpled bills. Shit, your stomach dropped. You left your phone in your car. After all, this was just supposed to be a quick delivery. The noise stopped, only for a moment, before resuming.

"Eri, sweetie," You whispered to the stunned little girl. "Do your parents have a phone here?"

She shook her head.

A man’s voice tore through the door, "Let me in dammit, you have to let me in before they come back."

You held your finger to your lip, and Eri nodded, repeating the gesture. The living room light was on and you realized that if he came to the side of the house you'd be seen through the window, but turning out the light would draw attention. Maybe he was bluffing, maybe he didn't know if anyone was inside and turning off the light would signal your presence. You pointed to the kitchen, where the lights were off and the two of you tip toed to the safety of darkness.

"Eri, honey, can you go sit in the pantry for me and be really, really quiet? I'll be right out here and don't come out until I come to get you okay?"

She looked hesitant and tearful but you were surprised at her level of composure for a kid. Finally she complied. Once the pantry door was closed you began rummaging through the drawers, looking for something that could inflict the most damage. A meat tenderizer could work. The banging continued and you swore you hear wood beginning to splinter. Your grip tightened with every bang. Finally the door gave way and a man stumbled through the splintered wood. He stopped when he saw you holding the cleaver.

He was dirty, without shoes or a shirt and his skin was red from the cold.

You hoped your voice wouldn’t crack, "You need to leave-"

"Monsters, monsters," he blabbed. "They're gonna come back and we gotta go."

You decided to bluff, "Get out of here, I already called the cops."

"Good, good, good," He mumbled, “but we still gotta go. NOW."

There was one step forward from him, one step back from you.

"If you come near me, I'll make sure you don't get up," You warned. At the very least you had to keep him away from Eri. Even if that was all you could do.

There was a desperate look in his eyes; they darted from you to the keys hooked to your jeans, then back to the keys. Finally he smiled, "You have a car, man that's perfect. Listen I won't hurt you but we need to get in your damn car, now."

Sounds like something someone who wants to hurt me would say, you thought. Apparently you took too long to respond, the man lunged toward you and you tried to swing the meat tenderizer. The tool connected with his shoulder and he howled out in pain but still managed to wrestle you to the ground. The two of you struggled with each other and the man was yelling that you'd die if you didn't listen to him. You landed a weak hit to his jaw, splitting his lip. You even tried biting at him but he was persistent and struggling to get your keys. You were telling him he could have them that he just needed to let you go but he wasn't listening to you. Managing to grab his ear you had a flashback to the self-defense seminar you had to take in college, it should be easy to rip a human ear. So you pulled. Blood began to flow from the wound down his face and on to you. He got you off him before you got the whole ear by delivering a blow to your stomach. The air rushed from your body, is this what it means to get the wind knocked out of you?

There was a loud noise and fog lights flooded through the broken door. Then saw Shinsou and Aizawa pulling the man off you. You pushed yourself and back, clutching at your stomach. Your cheeks were wet. Were you crying or was that blood on your face? Probably both.

The trio wrangled the man outside where you heard more struggling, fighting, and groaning.

Eri. You managed your way to the kitchen but realized you were covered in blood. Not wanting to traumatize the little girl any further you spoke through the door.

"Eri, can you stay there a little bit longer?"

"Can't I come out? I heard my daddies," She cried, tugging at your heartstrings.

"Not yet, okay? They're here and everything's okay, I'm gonna have them come get you okay?"

Thankfully, the door didn't open. As you shuffled toward the front door Mr. Yamada entered, wiping specks of blood off him.

You were shocked when he pulled you into a hug, "You're okay. Sho and Shinsou got everything under control. Where is Eri?"

You told him about her hiding spot and he sighed in relief and rushed to her.

The other two returned with bloodied knuckles that made your stomach churn.

"Yamada," The mountain man called, with his eyes scanning the home.

"Don't worry, Sho, I got Eri. She's fine. Our delivery girl is okay, she's got some bumps and bruises but she made the other guy look worse."

Aizawa ushered you to the couch, expecting your legs to give out at any moment.

"We need to call the police," You finally spoke.

Aizawa assured you he did. They were 45 minutes out but they'd work on getting here faster. Yamada brewed you a cup of tea, “for while we wait.” They finally calmed Eri down and Shinsou took her upstairs to get ready for bed. It felt weird for them to return to mundane evening routines so quickly after all that chaos, but maybe you were just the odd one out. Close to an hour later you were still waiting for the police to show up. Your tea was finished long ago and your nerves had calmed. You were even having trouble keeping your eyes open.

"You think they're almost here, babe" The blonde wondered, draping a throw blanket around your shoulders. "I'm sure she wants to this day to be over with."

---

It was still dark when you woke up. The blonde was fast asleep on the recliner next to you. The police must have come by now but there was no way you slept through the visit. Anxiety from earlier made it’s way back in to your chest. The clock read 4am; had they even called the police. All of the childhood rumors you heard came flooding back and you exited the house as quietly as you could, not realizing your keys were no longer with you.

When you made it outside you noticed dried blood on the ground, trailing toward what you assumed was their barn or storage shed. You were entranced. Looking back to the house, no one was awake; there was no movement, no light, just quiet. You shouldn’t follow the bloody trail, you shouldn't go near the shed; but your body moved on it's own accord and before you realized it you were at the doors. You gave a tug, expecting it to be locked, but the door swung open and inside you noticed the lock lay on the ground.

You should have turned around, got in your car, and drove away. Instead you stepped inside and found the bloody, broken body of the man who attacked you. There was a slight sway to the corpse that was hanging from a reinforced pillar. Nearly screaming your hand shot to cover your mouth.

You should've left.

Aizawa was watching you from the kitchen, cursing Hizashi for leaving the shed unlocked. His hand hovered over the secured cabinet drawer that stored a pistol. He wouldn't shoot you only scare you a bit. But you weren't running out in a panic. He didn't even hear you scream. Interesting. He went to join you, moving like any predator concealing it presence and leaving the gun safe untouched.

You should've left.

You finally came to your sense and whirled around only to run into your late night admirer. A terrified squeak escaped you as you jumped further into the confined space.

"Mr Aizawa! I'm sorry, I shouldn't have - I'm sorry."

He didn't look angry, although you wished he did. It would be better than the unsettling smile on his face.

"That's alright, I was heading out here anyway," He closed the door behind him and flicked on a dim light that lit up the room with shadows. "Can't leave it hanging for too long."

Your throat tightened, he stood between you and the only exit. If he noticed your terror there was no indication that he cared. He turned his back to you momentarily, rummaging through the clutter on the workbench. Now was the best chance you may get and you made a dash for the door. It was a futile attempt and part of you knew it but your nerves were ablaze with adrenaline and you were running on instinct not reason. There was a foreign tightness around your throat that kept you fighting to inhale. Struggling to breathe you didn’t even register the sharp pinch of a needle piercing your deltoid.

Aizawa pressed his nose to your hair, "Behave. Even if you get out of here, your tire has a flat, pesky nails tend to find their way on to the roads out here. A real shame."

He dragged you over to a chair across from the lifeless body cuffing both your wrists to the armrests. Stupid, stupid, he was grabbing out cuffs and I ran straight into him, you scolded yourself. You went to open your mouth and beg to be let go, but you were silenced.

"Keep it down or I'll have to find a way to keep you quiet."

Your heart was beating so hard it hurt. Once a friend said it was possible to die by fright, if that was true you wouldn't last much longer. Now that you were safely out of the way, Aizawa could make quick work dismembering the carcass. He donned his usual rubber apron and pulled back his hair. With his experience he could finish the job in less than two hours. Now was as good a time as ever for you to learn.

With a sigh he began his explanation and craft:

"Cannibalism has been around as long as we've existed: sacrificially, ceremonially, culturally, especially during times of plague, war, and famine. You can find documented accounts from pretty much every part of the world. And there's no one reason. Our family keeps it simple. We eat meat, animals are meat, and humans are animals. In times of famine and other hardships, this was a reliable food source. Of course now, there's not much of a risk for severe famine to effect people like us but it's tradition. This is how it's been for our family for years. And not just those of us around these parts but our relatives everywhere. It's important to keep old trades alive."

He paused, now splattered with blood, to take note of your dry heaving.

"Please," You gasped. "I just want to go -"

With narrowed eyes he continued:

"It's important for you to listen to our family history. Typically we don't reap a harvest until three weeks after the winter solstice and 3 weeks before the summer solstice. Twice a year is enough to get us by. Zashi and I are impressed that you managed to wrangle him in. Poetic in a way, don’t ’cha think? Consuming the flesh of someone who tried to overpower you. First reap of the harvest. Nice that it's a family affair."

The room was spinning and you were fighting the sedative as hard as you could. There was no way any of this was real, maybe you were dreaming? Maybe you'd been knocked unconscious when that man rushed you. Or better yet, maybe you were asleep at home still. It was possible that this whole delivery fiasco was just a nightmare. Your stomach churned at the speech. There was sun peaking through the cracks in the wall by the time he finished separating the ... different sections. There was no more body, just pieces. You nodded off for a few minutes before being jolted awake by the door opening and letting in the bright morning light .

"Good morning, you two night owls," Hizashi beamed. Walking to his husband handing over a tall mug of coffee. He was completely unfazed by the scene he walked in on. In fact the only frown he made was when Aizawa said he put too much sweetener in the coffee. "Anyways, grumpy pants, I called your sister. She's on her way to pick up Eri and Shinsou for a few days. To give us some time to focus on our little muse. Speaking of, I should go get her some water. Oh, plus we need to fix our door."

---

After you refused to drink anything they tried to give you they left you alone in the shed. The handcuffs were too tight for you to slip through and in your struggle you managed to topple the chair over, hitting the floor with painful slap. It was hard to ignore the buzzing of the flies swarming the space where the body once hung. You closed your eyes, your mind wandering to your family and what they would think when they realized you were missing.

Outside you heard a car pull up and were tempted to scream for someone to help you. Maybe it was the police; maybe someone realized you didn't go home last night and found out where your last delivery was. Your captors came out to greet whoever it was and you were glad you didn't yell, they sounded friendly. They were coming toward the shed but you were too defeated to react.

"Sho," Hizashi gasped, "She fell."

The response was sharp and sarcastic, "I hadn't noticed." He yanked you up with ease and the world was no longer side ways but the jolt paired with the exhaustion and drugs left the world spinning.

The woman must've been the sister they mentioned earlier. She squealed with delight, "Oh isn't she the cutest, lemme get a good look."

She resembled neither of the men and gave off cool-soccer-mom vibes. With a gentle grip on your chin she bore into your eyes.

"Please,” You begged, “I just want go home."

The sister didn't waiver, "Don't worry sweet thing, these two are gonna take such good care of you. Just relax and let them help you."

Help? You don't need help from them. You needed to get out of this hell.

"Okay," She bounced toward the exit, "Bring out my niece and nephew, we're gonna have a fun weekend. And take care of your girl, she looks like a keeper."

Finally you screamed in frustration. Brief, loud, and full of anger but it deflated just as quickly when the two men shot you a menacing look. How could all three of them show no display of empathy? You were again convinced this was an alternate reality when both children peaked their heads in to wave goodbye before they peeled away from the home, leaving you alone with Hizashi and Aizawa.

---

There was a hatch toward the back of the room where the two disappeared until they came back with a third body. They were dragging a woman up like a ragdoll and acidic bile burned your throat. If you had to guess you would say she was late middle age. It felt like they were setting a stage, Hizashi pulled you closer to where they stood while Aizawa managed to tie the woman down to the stained table.

"Why are you doing this," you cried. But they ignored you.

"Did you know there are people who pay for certain oddities and they’re willing to spend big bucks to get what they want? We keep whatever makes sense to eat and sell the rest. Ideally nothing goes to waste.”

The next hour and forty-seven minutes were excruciating. There were several “items” – as they referred to her body parts – that they removed while she was still alive; but finally Aizawa made the perfect incision along her thigh and a pomegranate wave gushed out. There was no way she would suffer much longer with this amount of blood loss.

"Please just let her die," You begged the universe. "Please let it end."

For the first time since starting they stepped back from the body, leaving it on the table to come over to you. Aizawa knelt before you and his bloody hand brushed hair from your face; his thumb rested on your lip and you couldn't even physically respond. Hizashi was behind him, rubbing his partner's shoulders.

"You're going to kill me?”

Both men finally softened, coming down their endorphin high. There was something so satisfying about your question. Arousing, even. They made it clear that your life was up to them, which meant they had you where they needed you.

"Am I having a blonde moment? I don't recall saying we'd kill her."

Aizawa threw an incredulous look his way before addressing you, "We aren't going to kill you. We wouldn't've saved you from that terrible animal if that were the plan. We don't kill just anyone. We wanted to introduce you to our lifestyle and now’s the best chance. Eri’s wanted to keep you since day one, but if you can't behave that'll be an issue. Can you prove to us that you’re going to behave or do we have to get you down into the cellar?”

There was no other choice than to nod. Picking up a piece of the dissected woman Hizashi muttered something about starting dinner before telling his husband that you really need to get more rest. Aizawa agreed, and since it seemed like you were having trouble getting rest he decided to give you another little dose of medicine.

#slasher au #mha x reader #bnha yandere #mha yandere #yandere erasermic #yandere erasermic x reader #yandere x reader

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