Killer Instincts [✓] (Billy Loomis x F!Reader x Stu Macher)

Chapter 25

Your eyes moved slowly beneath your eyelids, moving backwards and forwards to try and see something other than nothing. Your body felt numb and your neck stiff.

You tried to swallow but were met with an awful ache that caught at your wind pipe.

You willed your (E/C)s to open, for the
lids to slide heavily up. There was a dull throbbing in your head, right between your ears and above your forehead.

Not being able to see had never been so scary. The sound of your sharp breath bounced off the icy walls, echoeing in your ears and almost driving you mad with the overstimulation of your ears as a result of the pitch black darkness.

You could hear sirens wailing in your ears but at the same time, you didn't.

You attempted to move, soon coming to notice your wrists and ankles were tied together with some sort of rough rope that rubbed against your skin— irritating it and making your flesh turn bright red from the constant friction.

Where were you?

You struggled, doing your best to slip your hands from in between the rope to free yourself, but your body hurt and the only thing you got was more pain coming from your wrist area.

With all the squirming, you felt yourself laying on a soft surface. A couch, perhaps? And something warm covered your body, you thought it may be a blanket.

With the moving of your arm, you also felt your shoulder had been wrapped in bandage, and the pain in it had mostly subsided.

Suddenly, light illuminated the room and fire, blood, and a ghostly white mask were all you saw each time you blinked to get rid of the haze and adjust to the light.

"Hey, you're up." A very recognizable male voice greeted you, making your heart drum against your chest.

For a second, you couldn't believe your eyes. You thought you were dreaming, or perhaps not alive anymore.

Memories come back to you, beating your heart and mind mercilessly. "But... But how? I saw... Stu... Where am I?! Please..."

Stu stood there, looking like his usual relaxed self with no sign of injuries whatsoever. He looked completely normal, making you wonder if you'd made all of it up. But the sympathetic smile tugging on his lips told you otherwise.

"We'll explain. It's all over now, 're you feelin alright? Need anythin? I know nothing makes sense but we'll work through it."

Your lips parted, but no answer came out. The headache taking you over was almost enough to fry your brain, the endless theories and questions spilling over.

You must be dead, right?

You wished you were dead, especially with the heart shattering betrayal ripping through your veins. "I don't... I don't understand..."

His stare alone was enough to make you tremble in fear as images of that night played before your eyes like a broken record.

You took a brief moment to glimpse around the basement, only to gasp at one of the walls that was covered with photos upon photos and pages, dried up blood covering a lot of them, almost looking like splashes of coffee.

A lot of them showed you in various times and places and with different people. Randy, Tatum, Sidney, your mother and that was just the tip of the iceberg.

You wanted to throw up just as Stu calmly strolled forward, craddling your face in his hands when tears began to shimmer in your eyes.

You could barely keep up with what he was saying to you as the heavy, gut wrenching sadness and grief made you feel like your heart was about to collapse on itself.

"Why..." You whispered with your voice trembling from all of the emotions starting to assault your body all at once. You just wanted to forget all of it.

You just wanted to forget about all of the death and misery you had seen.

You let him hoist you up to walk you out of the room and into a hallway you'd never seen before. You dug the heels of your feet into the floor boards, but it did little to nothing with how weak you were feeling.

How were you ever going to cope? All of your friends were dead and in a casket, and the ones you had left turned out to be maniacs.

You found yourself clutching tighter onto him once he entered another unfamiliar spacious room that had couches, a large television screen, stacks upon stacks of VHS tapes and a bowl filled with popcorn.

That wasn't what scared you half to death, though.

No. It was the sight of the model look-a-like Billy Loomis slinking forward with calculated steps.

"Hey there, scream queen..." Billy's sultry voice was enough to make your stomach clench, and he leveled his head so close to yours that his caramel bangs tickled your cheek with his dilated pupils locked onto yours. "We got your favourite scary movie ready."