the victim | billy loomis x reader x stu macher

10: Final Girl

10: Final Girl

EXCERPT FROM: THE WOODSBORO'S MURDERS BY GALE WEATHERS, CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

           ...that's where I found them. Billy Loomis towering over the dead body of Sidney Prescott with an arm clutching his abdomen while partner Stu Macher stood to his side. Stu looked no better than Billy; blood soaking his shirt, body swaying. "I'm feelin' woozy, man." He told Billy, leaning into the kitchen aisle for support. Billy told him to shut up and instructed him to check on [Name], who laid limp behind beside Sidney.

           I watched while holding my breath as Stu lowered himself to the ground, checking the girl's pulse and following the demands of his partner. They were both distracted—both focused on perfecting their ending as I noticed the  neglected handgun near the kitchen entrance. The closer I got to them, the more aware and angry I became.

           Sidney was wrapped in the killer's wear, the lengthy black cloak with the ghost-like mask tossed beside her. In her hand was a knife, the same that would be identified as the knife used to kill several members of the community, and as I got to the entrance (still undetected), I was horrified by the gruesome amount of wounds she bore. The worst being the gash across her neck.

           I swallowed my fear, and with shaky knees, I managed to grab the stray gun before forcing myself to stand. I was terrified. Anyone in my shoes would be, but from how the two boys checked on [Name], I knew she had to be alive, and suddenly, my fear extended to her. What were they planning to do? And why wait until the end to do it?

           "Step away from her." Before I could think it through, I had the gun raised with a confidence I never knew I had. I watched Billy's back stiffen, followed by a chuckle I can only describe as wicked. He turned, and when I met his eyes, I swear I have never met someone with such a demented gaze.

           "Think about this, Ms. Weathers," Billy taunted, hands raised as Stu rose behind him, "There's only one of you and two of us." With a single shared look, both came after me, forgetting about [Name]. I didn't hesitate when I took my shot. The bullet embedded in Billy's left shoulder. They weren't expecting it, and neither was I, but it gave me enough time to shoot another shot toward Stu, which I regretfully missed.

           "The cops are on their way," I warned. I knew this wouldn't deter them; they'd still come after me, but I didn't care. All I could think about was that poor girl lying next to her dead friend.

           Billy had laughed again. The blood-churning kind of laugh that makes you lose oxygen. "You think the cops are gonna save you? Save her?" He'd gestured to [Name] with a sickening look. Distracted by his insanity, I missed when Stu snuck up on me.

           We'd fallen to the ground in a mess of limbs and blood. The gun was long gone from my grasp as his hands wrapped around my neck; I tried prying him off of me to no luck. Billy stood by, shaking his head in mock disapproval at my sorry attempts, but I wouldn't let it deter me. I refused to relent against the lack of oxygen. I wasn't going to die there — to give up when a girl still needed help. I kicked, I scratched, I hit. I did everything I could to prolong the outcome, and thankfully it worked.

           The familiar sound of sirens and the blue-red lights flickering from outside told me I did it.

           Stu looked to Billy for guidance, and with a sneer, Billy told him to let me go. He did, shoving me down and following Billy out the back door, straight past [Name], but not before picking up something from the counter. Once they were gone, I rolled myself off the floor and struggled toward the girl.

           [Name] Hall laid bleeding out from her abdomen. I pressed my hands against her, forcefully trying  to stop the bleeding. She was bruised and pale, lips turning blue and I couldn't tell if she was breathing. "Help is here," I told her, "You're safe now."

           The police raided the house moments later, followed by the paramedics. I refused to leave her side, and several hands had to pry me away. They brought me out of the house where I watched them put Deputy Riley and Randy Meeks on stretchers, both still alive. I was helped into the same ambulance that housed Deputy Riley, and I watched with a defeated gaze as they finally brought out [Name] on a gurney.

           That night, the four of us left that house as survivors. We each had our own story to tell, but at least we made it out alive. [Name] had a rough road ahead of her. She had suffered severe injuries and needed weeks of rehabilitation to regain her strength. Randy Meeks had undergone emergency surgery that left several follow-up appointments. Deputy Riley was in a coma for two weeks before waking up, and I was fortunate enough to suffer a few broken bones and a concussion.

           The four of us were lucky to have survived that night. Unfortunately, we weren't the only ones; Billy Loomis and Stu Macher escaped the police and have since been on the run. Following that night...

"Sanity is a small box; insanity is everything."

― Charles Manson