— 🌞 brief non-graphic/faint mentions of rape and sexual assault later in the chapter 🌞 —

Upon arriving at your house, Billy looked around similar to the way Stu did. He practically investigated your home, less politely but at least asking before looking through something.

Hannibal stayed at his heels, sniffing everything he touched. Cheese loved him, but Hannibal was always more cautious with new people. Esmeralda ran circles around him, her little bobtail wiggling while she swatted at his shoelaces.

You went through the same thing, showing Billy all the rooms. He wasn't as talkative as Stu had been but he gently observed all of your trinkets and stuffed animals, occasionally peeking into your sketchbooks.

You thought it was cute how he'd softly smile at your little treasures and junk, he didn't really smile often.

"So what are you gonna do when you have to go home?" You asked Stu.

"Well, I figured I'd spend the day here. When I go home, I'll call the police. I'll tell them what you said: we went to the football field with everyone else and then spent the night here. You can vouch and so can your security cameras."

"Most of the kids at the field were so drunk they wont realize we were late, I hope." Billy added.

"Well, yeah, and if there are any inconsistencies, Sheriff Burke will probably chalk it up to alcohol." You said.

"Won't we get arrested for drinking?" asked Stu.

"Well he can't prove we were." You laughed, "But it's better than murder."

"Definitely," Stu laughed, pecking you on the lips. You saw Billy look at you with that same look he'd had on the sidewalk. Stu knew. If you were honest, you wanted Billy too. How the fuck do you ask your two best friends to just both date you, you asked yourself.

You were hyper from the party and the football field, so despite it being late you weren't going to sleep.

"Hey, I need to ask y'all a serious question," You said after a moment of quiet.

"What is it, princess?" Stu asked, his brows furrowed.

"You guys won't try to, like, betray and murder me or anything, right?" You said plainly.

"No! Princess, I could never!" Stu gasped.

"No! Absolutely not! Never!" Billy said at the same time.

"Pinky promise?" You asked, holding up your pinky. Both boys separately locked pinkies with you and promised, laughing at the childish gesture.

"Pinky promises are sacred. If you break them I get to break you." You said, pointing at each of them.

"Okay, well, pinky promise you won't betray us and murder us?" Billy asked.

You locked pinkies with them again, "Of course I won't! If I ever kill you it's probably not on purpose." Jobe slowly crawled over onto your stomach as you laid on your floor and your hands drifted to pet him.

"So when you said you had experience with, well, murder, what did you mean?"

You thought to yourself for a moment. You wouldn't spill everything right now, but they were owed some explanation for that.

"Back where I used to live, I was a serial killer. I never killed people in my immediate area until I got caught up in some personal teen romance bullshit. I had my final girl and it fucked me over — I was almost put it prison," You laughed, "So I moved to Woodsboro, California. I think in total, I've killed 24? Maybe less..." you trailed off.

"Have you killed anyone here?" Billy asked.

"Other than tonight, no. I've killed people since I moved here, but not in this area."

"Why do you do it?" Stu asked. The boys both looked at you with a mix of curiosity and awe, and it made you feel special.

"You first." You grinned at them, "Stu, why do you kill?"

He was quiet for a moment, thinking about it. "I dunno. Feels like the movies, y'know? Then it was fun getting away with it. Billy's most of the reason."

You turned to the other with a curious look, "And you?"

"It was revenge. Sidney's mother slept with my dad and it ran my mom off, so me and Stu killed her and then killed planned to kill Sidney."

You hummed thoughtfully, quiet for a second, "It was self-defense first. A man attacked me and I put a chunk of rock in his head," You paused for a moment, "Then in a rage, I just... bashed his head in until I was covered in brains and blood. My friend helped me get rid of the body and I ended up killing him later, and from there it was purely for fun." You fumbled with a stuffed giraffe in your hands. "I like watching people die. I like making them fight to survive and watching them lose."

🌞

They looked a little surprised. You weren't going to tell them that the man was trying to rape you, or that he almost succeeded. You weren't going to tell them about your ex-boyfriend, who had tried to force himself on you and ended up drowned in a lake. They didn't need to know. You didn't want to bother them with that part of the story.

🌞

You climbed up on the bed, laying your head on Stu's stomach. Turns out you were wrong, you were already getting tired.

"Hey princess?" Stu offered, "I'm real sorry for stabbing you. I couldn't see through the door."

You smiled a bit, nudging your head into him to acknowledge his apology. "It's okay, now I have a cool-ass scar to tell stories about." The wounds were already mostly scarred over, and they no longer hurt.

You proudly showed him the mark on your arm, to which he replied with an apologetic hum. He gently ran his thumb over the jagged line, kissing the top of your head.

You started to fall asleep listening to whatever conversation the boys were having — something about sharing something, playing things safe, and not stabbing you again.

You felt safe, content. It was a warm feeling you weren't used to. Then, your anxiety reminded you that you might not get away with this. You might get caught. All night, you planned and worried and planned some more.