Chapter 4: Life of a Killer

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Narrator's POV:


        Stu put his phone down, a small smile resting on his face. Phantom, what a name. He looked over the texts between him and the mystery person, and chuckled to himself. Ever since Billy and him had been on the run, he never got to live his life. Of course, he knew he wouldn't ever  be able  to live a normal life, he killed, that's not something he could just get away with. Still, this person gave him the chance to be normal, of course, he couldn't reveal his identity outright, but it was still better than nothing. 

He got up, stretched, and then proceeded to walk into the kitchen, where Billy sat, cooking what looked to be a sad excuse for oatmeal. Billy looked up, meeting Stu's grin.

" What're you smiling at?"

" Oh nothing." Stu replied, sitting at the old wooden table. He had found an old abandoned house in the woods, and both him and Billy decided it would be a great place to set up camp for a while. It was pretty run down, several broken windows and graffiti everywhere, but they didn't care.

Billy eyed him up Stu suspiciously, not believing him for a second. 

" Mhm, sure. We moved into a shitty house, living off of practically scraps, and you're smiling for no reason." 

" Oh shut it Billy, why can't I just be happy for the sake of it?"

Billy rolled his eyes. " Because we're killers dumbass. The only time we smile is when we meet up with the others, and even then it's forced."

Stu raised his arms in fake defense.

" Alright alright, jeez, no need to be so bossy, got it, no more smiling." 

Billy just rolled his eyes in response. He placed a bowl of oatmeal ( if you could even call it that ) in front of Stu, who immediately started shoveling it down his throat. The oatmeal was painfully sticky, it clung to his throat and tongue, but he didn't care. They were lucky to find the bag of expired oats in someone's trash. 

Both Stu and Billy ate in silence, the only sounds being the spoons scraping the bowl. Once they were finished, Billy and Stu returned to their separate rooms. They hadn't really talked much since the Sidney incident, and it was safe to say Billy was pissed beyond belief. Stu on the other hand, was just happy both of them didn't die. The stab wounds on his abdomen had healed fairly well and scarred over, but he didn't care, he thought they looked cool. 

Stu lay on his bed, staring at the ceiling. Today, like most days, he would spend the day staring at the ceiling, wondering what it would be like to have a normal life, that was until, his phone went off.


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