Forever Yours (Billy Loomis X Reader) Book Two

Chapter Two

You jolt awake, sitting upwards in your bed. Droplets of perspiration trickle down your forehead profusely. You pant madly. You had just awoken from a bad dream about your past in Woodsboro two years ago. The events and the memories flooded back into your head in an instant. You dreamt about Billy and Stu revealing themselves, Tatum's dead body, Hayden, Randy and Sidney severely injured, Stu stabbing you in the side. You had this dream at least twice a week that you even had to take tablets to stop the nightmares. 

Your dorm was typical, like any old traditional teenager, industrial strength furniture. 

A ringing phone makes you jump abruptly. You look around, wiping sweat from your forehead.  "Hello.... uh-huh... Who is this?.... Well, we identify ourselves around here... No, you can't sorry... Uh-huh... Yeah, right." 

"I got it," you say sluggishly. You stand up and move to your roommate, Genevieve. She has light brown hair and bright blue eyes. Twenty years old, the same age as you. Genevieve is energetic, kind and intellectual. "Knock yourself out."

You pick up the phone and put it against your ear. "Hello?" There's a silent moment. "Hello?" you say impatiently. 

"Hello, Y/N."

A voice spits out of the phone, deep and haunting. You don't flinch and you don't even seem alarmed. "Yes?"

"What's your favourite scary movie?"

"Who is this?"

"You tell me."

You grab a small device hooked to the phone. You take a look at it's display. "Cory Gillis. 442-8730."

"Shit!"

"Hot flash, Cory - prank phone calls are a criminal offence prosecuted under penal code 653M-" The phone interrupts you by Cory hanging up. "Enjoy the movie." You hang up the phone and turn to Genevieve. 

"Time to change numbers again?" Genevieve. This had been your third time changing numbers because people kept prank calling you. 

"Nah, I think it'll die off. It's opening weekend. Let's see how it goes," you yawn. Your grab your robe and shower bucket as Genevieve channel surfs. Various morning news programs are on your small TV. Snippets are heard.

"....The two victims, Maureen Evans and Phil Stevens..."

The channel switches again. A young man is being interviewed. Attractive, sullen, sad. "Please, I just wanna be left alone," he says. His voice stops you cold. You turn to the television, wide-eyed. 

"He sure gives a lot of interviews for someone who wants to be let alone," Genevieve said, tying her shoelaces. She then hits the remote. The man's image disappears as the TV goes off. Genevieve turns to you, full of smiles and joy. "Get your ass in gear. You're late. Don't forget we've got rush at the Deltas tonight. Don't wear anything you don't want trashed, Y/N." 

You don't answer her. Your eyes are too fixated on the television. "Y/N? Y/N?" You turn from the television, momentarily lost. Your recovery is immediate. You finally perk up. "I can't believe I let you talk me into going Greek."

You move to the door and throw it open. A ghost figure leaps at you. You scream but then stop yourself. You realise it's just a costume hung from your doorframe. Another prank. You rip it down, turn to, Genevieve and throw it at her. "Pumps. Nice handbag. Whaddya think?" You're surprisingly calm. You exit out the door, leaving Genevieve staring at the Ghostface mask in her hands.

A little while later, you step out of your dormitory. The morning sun shines down as you breathe in, taking in the beautiful, warm day as fifty news reporters nob you.