Disclaimer: This is my first attempt at a Scream Fanfic. I've always thought Billy Loomis was an awesome baddie and never got the ending he deserved, nor the understanding or love. Yeah, I'm sick that way. But anyway...this story is told from the persepect of a girl who was there in Woodsboro when everything went down. Some of the timeframe of the film is stretched out for the stories sake. It gets pretty dark. In fact, I think this is probably the darkest fanfic I've ever written, and that's saying a lot. Let me know what you, the viewers at home think. I've tried very hard to keep everyone in character and I own no one but Gretchen and any other original characters that pop up.

SEX WARNING! This one gets graphic boys and ghouls. Just a warning.

Chapter 3

I'd waited until my mom had left for the night shift at the hospital to leave for Scott's party pad. It was nearly 9 o'clock at night and the streets were deserted. I guess double murders have that effect.

I only got lost once and found the road that led through the half finished sub division. It was near the outskirts of town, and most of the houses were covered in plastic or temporary scaffolding. The completed model homes were in the center of the development all in one little group.

The prices for these gems of suburbia started at 300 K and went up from there. I had no idea why anyone would want to pay that much for a place with no backyard and where you could look into your neighbor's bathroom since it was less than ten feet from your own. But what do I know?

I pulled my beaten up Toyota to a stop outside the house where Scott's car was parked. It was strangely dark in there and I wondered what to expect. I stepped out of the car and put my fingers around the small pocket knife I had tucked into my jeans. It wasn't big, but it gave me a little bit of comfort.

I walked up the short concrete path to the door and hesitated. It was quiet…real quiet. The only sounds were crickets, and I realized just how far away from the town proper we were. I sighed and squared my shoulders. Then I turned the handle and walked inside.

The first thing I noticed was the reek of weed. They had deffinately been smoking in here. The second thing I noticed was the fact that the TV was on and there was a familiar face wearing a red and green sweater stabbing finger needles into a punk rock wannabe.

"Hello? Scott? We're the hell are you…I want my stuff." I called out.

The house was the epitome of suburban sameness and as I moved further into it I noticed that there was something off. There was a pizza box with only a slice missing, and a six pack that hadn't even been touched. Where were they?

I turned to look in the area next to the stairs. A plant stand had been overturned, the dirt spilling all over the gleaming white rug. Except, that wasn't the only thing staining the rug, I noticed. There was a large closet next to the stairs, and something very red and very dark was seeping from beneath the sliding door. I recognized what could only be blood. If it was stage stuff, it was damn good.

Taking a deep breath I slid the door open and found Franklin hanging there like a suit. He had a wire coat hanger wrapped around his throat so tightly that it was cutting into the skin. His chest had been stabbed half a dozen times. He was dangling from the clothes pole his eyes wide open.

The strange part in all of this was that I wasn't afraid. Also, I wasn't sickened or shocked by finding the idiot done up like this. There was a sort of calmness that had come over me, and a wonder that whoever had done this had left him here for me to find.

I backed away from the closet and turned to look up the stairs. I cautiously started up them, ready for anything. There was a little thrill of excitement running up my spine, not fear but excitement. Somewhere in my head I was unnerved by my reaction. Surely I should be concerned? But no…there was just that little thrill of excitement and curiosity.

At the landing I looked around…wondering where to go first. The house was fairly large, with six bedrooms all on the second floor. That's when I saw the note tapped to the mirror in the hallway. It had my name on it in red ink. I pulled it off and with shaking hands read the inside.

"If you've made it this far and haven't ran out the door…2nd bedroom on the right will get you some more."

I looked at the door that led to the second bedroom. Whoever it was, was giving me an out. Well, I'd come this far. I headed down the hall and opened the door to the 2nd bedroom without hesitation.

It was a nursery and in the crib was what was left of Scott's other buddy. I couldn't remember his name but he'd been left with his arms and legs hanging off the sides of the crib with a baby bottle shoved half way down his throat. He'd been cut open for the most part, and the coppery smell of blood reeked throughout the room.

Hanging from the mobile above the crib was another note. I walked over on steady legs and leaned over the body and pulled down the piece of paper.

"Another gift waits for you in the next room…if your wondering who I am, you'll find out very soon."

Whoever it was wasn't the best poet in the world. Out the door I went and I turned to my right. The next room was the master bedroom from what I could tell since it had a double door entrance. My palms were starting to get a bit sweaty. I heard a muffled sound of something thumping against the floor from behind the wall.

I licked my lips and pulled the door open. On the other side I was met with a sight that was beyond surreal. The room had candles everywhere there was space. Over in the corner stood a figure clothed completely in black, hooded like a grim reaper with a mask that was of stretched out face of a ghost. In his hand he held a curved knife that looked like it had been used recently.

In front of him hanging from a ceiling hook was Scott. He had duct tape on his mouth and he looked like he'd had the shit beat out of him. But his eyes were wide open and when he saw me he started struggling.

My hand was in my pocket as soon as I saw the two of them, my fingers wrapped around the knife. As I watched the figure in black's head tilted, as if gauging my reaction to what I had seen and what I was witnessing now. And then he did something that I wasn't expecting. He slid the knife into the duct tape that was holding him to the ceiling and let Scott go.

Scott immediately ran over to me, tearing the tape from his mouth. He was crazed and he quickly wrapped his filthy hands around my arms. "You fucking bitch! I knew you were a part of this! I knew!"

I wasn't expecting him to attack me. I thought he'd be running for his life, but Scott was never a smart one. Instead he started trying to kill me. We fought, me trying to shake him off, Scott trying to strangle me. We battled across the room while the figure in black watched. Once when Scott got in a punch to my side I saw the figure move towards us, as though to help me. But he stilled when he saw that it hadn't done as much damage as Scott had hoped.

We landed on the floor next to the large bed that dominated the room. Scott was on top of me and his fingers were tightening on my throat. Stars were dancing in front of my eyes and when blackness was starting to take over my vision I took the only chance I had. I grabbed for the knife in my pocket and got the blade open with a flick of my wrist. The knife was old and slightly dull. I knew I'd have only one shot. With all the strength I had left I swung my arm up and slammed the knife into his neck to the hilt.

The reaction was immediate. His hands released me and started clawing at his own neck. Blood flowed down my arm but I was simply trying to breathe again while coughs wracked my body. I finally let go of the knife and he staggered up from me, making wet hacking noises through his now torn throat.

As I got air into my aching lungs I watched as Scott pulled the knife out, letting loose a torrent of blood from the severed artery. It ran like a river down his neck and over the white ever present Hilfiger shirt he was wearing. This time he didn't try to attack me, he made with surprising speed, his way out the door. This time the figure in black didn't stand still.

Like some weird specter he moved quickly to the doorway just as Scott got outside the bedroom. Using the knife he grabbed him from behind and jabbed it into his chest with three unbelievably fast swings. He released Scott who fell limp and lifeless to the floor as I watched.

My heartbeat pounded loudly in my ears as he stepped back into the room and shut the door without turning around. I heard the lock click into place and my mouth went dry. He turned then, as I used the wall behind me to get to my feet. He watched me for a moment and I stared back into the black holes of the masks eyes. I didn't know what to expect. I felt sort of numb, the knowledge that I had assisted in the murder of Scott sinking in, although I had done it to save my own life. I had no doubt that Scott would have killed me if he'd been allowed to follow through. Truth be told I was glad he was dead. He and his minions had made my life misery for the entire time I'd been in Woodsboro.

The specter was closer to me now, my attention having been taken away by my thoughts of Scott and what had just happened. I stood still as he lifted a device next to the mouth of the mask. "Hello Gretchen…" The voice changer was a neat trick and I waited to hear what he said next. "Did you like my surprise?"

I swallowed. "Yes…I did." I told him.

"I'm proud of you." He said the knife in his other hand glinting in the candlelight.

"Did you kill Casey and Steve?" I asked him, having to know if it was the case.

"What do you think?"

"I think you did the world a favor." I replied.

He laughed at that, an eerie sound coming through the voice changer. "I think you've earned a peek behind the mask." He said and placed the device on a nearby table. Then with his free hand he pulled off the hood. "So Gretchen, how do you like my scary movie?" Billy Loomis asked.

"Billy…" I said his name softly, a bit shocked. But at the same time part of me had known. Seeing him there, sweat glittering on his cheeks, his brown hair mussed and hanging in front of his dark, dark eyes he looked like a fallen angel. There was a bit of blood on his jaw, black against his skin. He looked more than dangerous and I still wasn't afraid of him.

In fact…I wanted him right there. That darkness inside of me, the part that had known cried out for him. He'd done this for me. He'd known what they'd been doing and he'd stopped them. He'd delivered me my revenge.

"It's perfect." I said at last.

He smiled and I took a few steps towards him, coming to stand inches away.

Billy's eyes followed my movements. I could feel the tension that was running through his body, even without touching him. His eyes were glazed with the adrenaline that was pumping through his system and he was breathing heavily.

I was having trouble catching my breath as well, and it wasn't from Scott's attempt to strangle me. I was dazed with what had just happened and the effect Billy was having on me. I know you are thinking that I should have tried my luck at running away…but there was no way I could have even if given the chance. Something had changed inside of me…something had happened between the two of us and I was tethered to this psychotic angel by some invisible link. If he killed me, then I'd die happy if the last thing I saw were those dark eyes looking into mine.

"Are you scared Gretchen?" He asked me then.

"No…I'm not." I told him truthfully.

This seemed to make him happy. He reached out with his free hand and touched my cheek with his gloved finger. I felt the slight stickiness of blood on my skin as he ran it along my jaw. "What do you think the next scene should be?" His voice was like velvet in the quiet of the room.

In answer I stepped even closer and very slowly placed my hands on his shoulders, tilting my face up to his. He was still, waiting for me, and so I kissed him. It was very timid, as I wasn't exactly the most well versed person when it came to that. His lips were burning he was so warm. It felt so right to do I forgot all about Sydney Prescott and her supposed relationship with him. There was nothing else in the world but that brief moment of contact.

I pulled away and looked up at him and found him staring at me with such intensity I felt one brief tremor of fear. Had I crossed a line? Did I do something wrong? Those were the only thoughts I had time to think before Billy wrapped one arm around me, crushing me against his chest and taking my mouth with his own.

He was actually growling and it was all I could do to hold on. I kissed him back once more, this time matching his need and hunger. My fingers curled into his hair, something that I'd been wanting to do for a while. Things became wild after that. We stumbled backwards, tearing at clothes and kissing and biting at each other.

We slammed up against the far wall, my back thudding against it hard. Billy was pressed up against me, hips to hips, still holding the knife. He pulled away, gasping for breath, one arm still holding me knowing he had me trapped and pinned. He pulled back the hand that held the knife, staring down at me with eyes that had gone black. With a half cry half snarl he swung the knife down and imbedded it in the wall. The next moment he was devouring me once more, both hands free to tear at my clothes as mine pulled at the black fabric of his costume.

His teeth nipped and bit at my skin as he made his way to my neck. I knew there'd be bruises on me from this insanity and I didn't care. At last I managed to pull the robe off him exposing the t-shirt and jeans beneath. His eyes gleamed in the darkened room as he bit at the pulse beating wildly in my throat. He suckled at my skin hard almost drawing blood. And I nearly buckled at the sensation. I moaned his name and felt him grind against me in response. He was marking me…branding me with his teeth, just like the wolf he'd always reminded me of.

My hands went to work at pulling his t-shirt from his pants. When he realized what I was doing he pulled away from my throat. The flesh throbbed where his mouth had been and I couldn't help but smile at the feeling. Billy made quick work of his shirt and then did the same with mine, harshly pulling it over my head and flinging it across the room. My fingers busied themselves with learning every inch of his chest. His body was hard and smooth to my touch. He shuddered when I let my nails rake along the skin of his stomach.

His arms suddenly went round my waist and pulled me to him. He picked me up and settled me onto the bed, positioning himself above me. His fingers went to the front of my jeans, and he undid the button deftly, unzipping them while never taking his eyes from my face. I watched him transfixed as he pulled them off my legs.

He moved to trap me beneath him, the muscles on his arms taught as he crawled back up my body. He never looked away from my eyes and I couldn't even move I was so transfixed my him.

"Are you scared Gretchen?" He asked me again, whispering against my skin, his lips close to my breast.

"No Billy." I replied once more and felt his mouth close over the sensitive skin. He grazed it with his teeth. I finally was able to move and grabbed hold of him, my nails sinking into his back. "I'm not scared…" I hissed out.

I felt him smile once more, biting down a little harder, one hand slipping along my hip. I let out a moan, not able to stop myself as his tongue played against my flesh. He lifted his face to mine and I pulled him down into a hard kiss. His nimble fingers ran across my thigh as we bruised one another's lips. When he touched me at last, in that place that only I had ever done, late at night and alone I gasped into his mouth. I bit his lower lip without meaning to, drawing blood. I tasted it on my tongue, sweet and bitter.

It only seemed to arouse him more and he pushed his fingers against me harder, causing me to rise up off the bed, pressing myself against him, my nails racking down his back and I knew I'd drawn blood from him once more. He would do just enough to take me close to the edge and then relent. It was maddening and he knew it.

His fingers slid back to my hip, grasping hold of me and keeping me still. His other hand grabbed my hair, not pulling it but holding firm. He stared down at me, face glistening with a sheen of sweat, eyes blazing. "I'm not going to stop…" His voice was deep and ragged.

I knew there was a double meaning to his words. And my response was to both of them. "Never stop Billy…" I rasped out. He grinned wickedly and then he took us both over the edge of sanity.