Notes: Well, I've been inspired by this fic. Hopefully I can update my other stories soon.
Kudos and comments are appreciated :) I hope you enjoy!
When Billy wakes up, there's a striking pain in his head and shoulders. He feels a lot of leaves and rocks under his hands. He slowly opens his eyes, with a frown, to realize that he's in a wood and that it's almost sunset.
He looks around him, trying to piece together what's going on. He sits up slowly, pain shooting through his body like electricity. He puts his hand against his head and winces. It hurts terribly from what Roman did to him, and he wonders if he's been unconscious for hours.
The pain, the leaves and the rocks immediately tell him what's happened to him. He's been dumped in the middle of some remote wood, and his first thought is that Roman must have been the one who left him here.
The thought makes him angry so quickly, and the pure hatred that rises within him is somehow worse than every other time that it's happened.
He stands up, his whole head throbbing with pain. He looks around for his backpack, but it's nowhere. If Roman has it, he can consider it gone forever. It really pisses him off, he had important things there.
Billy starts to walk across the wood, keeping his eyes peeled. The bag is important, but he can't focus on anything other than the rage that he feels building inside of him. He is sure that Roman has his bag, and it isn't anything other than pure cruelty on Roman's part.
He hates him. He hates that he made him feel like this, that he got under his skin.
He hates him.
His hands are tight as he walks, the rage within him growing stronger with every single step.
He slowly starts to walk out of the forest, his head still aching. He needs to know where he is, to begin with. Is it far enough from Woodsboro or not?
He walks towards a road that can be seen from afar. He has to walk for around 20 minutes before he reaches the road, and by the time that it comes into view, Billy is exhausted. He can feel the energy drain from his body as his legs wobble, and he's forced to stop for a break.
His muscles ache as he continues towards the road, and the anger that he feels continues to burn brighter and brighter the closer he gets.
The sun is starting to dip behind the horizon, and it makes it harder for him to see what lies ahead. A few minutes later, he finally reaches the road, and the sight is enough to cause Billy's legs to buckle in fear. It is long and straight, almost empty, but he's sure that he must be a long way from Woodsboro. It feels impossible to make the walk from here, especially at night. He's not even sure if he could do it if it were daylight, and he can't help but feel scared. He's sure that Roman did this on purpose in order to hurt him even more.
He sees a bar some hundreds of meters ahead. It looks old and precarious, and he ponders what could happen if he got inside to ask where exactly he is. Would they recognize him? Had the police distributed his mugshot here?
He debates his choices for a solid minute.
On one hand, he needs to find out what town he's in, and this might be a good place to get some information. On the other hand, he's scared to talk to anyone, scared of the possible repercussions and the things that might happen if someone recognizes him.
But at the end of the day, he needs to know where he is, so he decides that it's worth the risk.
He slowly approaches the bar, his whole body trembling with fear. His heart speeds up as he walks inside. As he sees everyone looking at him, he begins to sweat, and it takes all of his willpower to stop his body from trembling.
There are barely five people inside: three old men playing poker and a couple of teenagers in a corner. Behind the counter, there's a woman of around thirty and a man of around fifty talking and listening to the radio. Everyone looks at him when he goes inside.
He walks to the counter and then starts to speak to the woman behind it.
"Excuse me," he says politely, trying his best to ignore the feeling of cold dread that's starting to fill his body along with the fear. "Do you happen to know what town this is?"
The woman studies him in silence, looking at his dirty clothes. The man behind the counter approaches him, with a frown.
"How is it that you don't know where you are?" he asks, sounding wary but not aggressive.
"Someone dropped me off here..." He says it quietly, avoiding making too much eye contact and trying to ignore the fear that's starting to fill his body and soul. "I... I think I'm lost. I've been walking for hours and... I'm just not sure where I am," he says, trying his best to sound like he's not scared. "I'm sorry for the bother; I just... Well, I just wanted to know where I was."
He's trying to stay strong and calm, but his entire body is trembling slightly as the anxiety and fear get the better of him.
"Jesus" the woman whispers, covering her mouth.
The man says, "Do you want me to call the police? Are you hurt?" He walks around the counter and stands beside Billy, looking intently at his appearance.
There are a couple of customers that come closer too.
"This town is getting more dangerous and crazy, '' one says, drinking his whisky.
At the mention of the police, the fear in him grows stronger, and he feels his mind start to spiral into a place of panic.
"No, no, please don't call the police!" He says, panic and fear rushing through him, his brain beginning to feel foggy, and his body shaking more aggressively than ever before. "I just-"
He tries to catch himself, but his anxiety has already taken over. He needs to calm down. But all he can think about is running away right now.
"Look, why don't you calm down?" You look terrible," the man says, taking a stool from the bar for Billy to sit down. "Where are you from? You're in Glen Ellen now."
Billy takes the stool and sits down on it quietly, trying to take a deep breath and calm himself down but not managing to do so. He can't stop the anxiety from boiling inside of him, and every single word that the man says fills his whole body with a cold sense of fear.
He has to get away. His head is suddenly filled with a single thought, and it's the urge to run. He needs to run away right now because he hates his life, he hates himself, and he hates this moment.
"Hm?" The man prompts him. "Is it far from your home?"
"We should call a doctor, at least," one of the customers says. "Why don't you bring him something to drink? I'll pay," he says, stepping beside the owner. "You look ill," he says to Billy.
He barely hears the words that the man is saying to him; all that he can hear is his own heartbeat in his head. He looks around at all of the people, fear rising within him as he realizes how terrified he is. He has to get away.
His head spins as he suddenly stands up and runs out of the bar. He can't stay there anymore, he doesn't want to be seen by anybody. He just needs to find a place where he can be alone.
"Hey!" The man runs behind him. "Wait! We can help you!" He says it in a breathless voice, unaccustomed to running.
Hearing his voice sends a surge of more fear and anxiety through Billy's whole body. He starts to run again, faster this time, desperately trying to get away from the man and from the other people.
He can barely breathe and runs for as long as he can, but he finds that eventually he has to slow to a walk, his whole body trembling and shaking with exhaustion. As he keeps walking, his mind can only focus on one thought: He wants to get as far away from this life as possible.
He has to get away. For good.
Billy looks around him, taking stock of where he has ended up. He's nowhere near Woodsboro, and he knows that he has to get out of this town somehow. He's tired to the bone, and he's shaking, but he has to keep on moving. His whole body screams in pain as he forces himself to keep walking, determined to get as far from the bar as possible so he could feel even just a smidgeon of safety again. He's not sure how long it'll take him, but he has to keep moving.
There's the sound of a car behind him, driving slowly. The moment he hears the sound of the car, his whole body freezes in fear. He feels a sense of cold dread fill his body, and his mind begins to race.
He can hardly even think as the car creeps forward, his fear growing even stronger. The black car is familiar and sends a shiver through Billy's body. What is he supposed to do? What should he do? Should he try to hide? Or should he try to find somewhere more secure?
The glass goes down to reveal Roman in the driver's seat.
"Billy, I forgot your backpack at home," he says in a soft tone, his eyes amused.
As soon as he sees Roman, Billy freezes up completely in fear, unable to speak or even make a sound. He's terrified. He's trapped now, surrounded by darkness and shadows, with nowhere to hide. He feels fear rise within him, and his mind starts to race while he stands there silently, his arms wrapped around his chest as the car pulls up, unable to say a word.
"Billy..." He hears Roman say it, his voice gentle and soft, and as he hears it, the fear grows even stronger. "You don't want it back?" Roman insists, looking straight into his eyes.
His eyes meet Roman's, and he can feel the hate and anger building inside of him as he sees the smug grin on Roman's face. He has to say something; he has to talk, but the words are locked in his throat. He has a million thoughts running through his head, but he can't seem to find the right words to say to Roman to try to get him to leave him alone.
"Billy..." Roman says again, and he hears the smugness in his voice. "You're making it harder than it is." Roman laughs cruelly. "It's a yes or no question." He waits for Billy to answer with a smirk on his face.
With a jolt of fear, he feels his heart jump into his throat, and this time he does find himself able to respond. But the words that he wants to say to Roman won't come out, and the words that do force their way past his lips come out more as a croak than anything else.
"I hate you."
It's the best that he can do for now, the absolute best that he can manage. Billy is sure that he'll pay for it, though.
Roman's smirk falters for an instant, but it comes back to his face quickly.
"That's not what I asked." He says, tilting his head.
He starts to shake again, scared that Roman might do something to hurt him.
"Why did you drag me out here?" He finally asks, his voice trembling slightly. "What do you want?"
He's still shaking, but he does manage to get the words out finally, and he can feel them rush past his lips as he says them, even though he can hardly manage to hear them himself. His whole body still trembles as he says the words, his heart racing as he does.
"That was our deal, wasn't it?" Roman says, shrugging. "To drive you away from Woodsboro." He remains silent for a moment, and then he laughs, mocking "As for what I want... What could I possibly want from you, Billy? Look at you, you're disgusting."
He feels his body fill with cold fear when he hears Roman talk to him that way, and he can feel himself starting to shake again, even harder than before. He knows that he should say something, that he should try to defend himself and the choice that he made, but something stops him, and he finds himself silent again.
He hates it when Roman speaks to him like this. He hates it even more when he's right. He's starting to feel worthless again.
"So we agree, then?" Roman says this with a knowing face. "Billy, just get in the car," he says, an edge of annoyance in his voice. "You'll end up dead like this."
"No!" He says, feeling a sudden surge of anger rise inside of him at this. "I will not get in the car with you!"
He's starting to get angry now himself, and all of his hurt and pain are starting to turn into the rage that he's feeling building up inside of him.
"I don't hate myself as much as I hate you!" He says through gritted teeth. "And I'll be damned if I go anywhere with you again!"
Roman sighs, annoyed, and gets out of the car.
"I see you took a liking to the rough treatment, Billy," he says, his eyebrows mocking. "I should have guessed."
"I'm not getting in the car, Roman!" He glares furiously at Roman. He hates him so much. He can't even put it into words. He wishes that he could hurt Roman as much as Roman has hurt him. He feels his fists ball together, his hatred growing stronger and stronger still as he glares at Roman with utter hate and fury, his heart racing as he tries to stop his body from shaking. "Not with you," he growls. "Not again. Never again."
Roman laughs, entertained.
"You will get in the car, Billy. Willingly or not." He steps closer with a smirk on his face. "Are you asking for me to force you into it?"
Fear fills Billy's whole body, and his mind is filled with a cold and crushing sense of terror and dread. He desperately tries to think of something to say, any way to get away, but nothing comes. He's frozen in place, unable to move, unable to look away from Roman.
"I'm not getting in the car," he says finally, his eyes fixed on Roman's. "No matter what you do."
He feels Roman's power over him. He hates it. But it's real. He can only stare up at Roman, and he can see the cruelty that is in Roman's eyes, the joy and pleasure, and the sheer delight that he seems to take in Billy's reactions.
"Are you sure?" Roman says more seriously. "You're asking for me to hurt you, Billy."
"I hate you." There's a cold fear filling his whole body, but he doesn't back down, even when he's starting to tremble a little more. He hates this so much. "I hate you," he whispers. He doesn't even want to speak, he hates how hard his voice is shaking, how he can hardly even say the words. He hates the way Roman makes him feel.
Roman nods.
"You already said that," he takes Billy by the collar of his t-shirt and says into his face. "Yet... Who else cares about you at this point, hm?"
"Let go of me..." he says, his voice trembling with fear as he tries to pry Roman's hands off of him, but Roman is stronger and keeps a hold of him. He tries with all of the strength that he has, struggling against Roman and trying to get his hands off of him, but he can't get free. "Let...go," he grunts.
The pain that he feels is only making the anger in him stronger and stronger, and it's starting to feel more like hatred. He hates this man so much.
"Make me, Billy. You certainly have the strength to spit your insults at me." Roman chuckles, looking into his eyes.
"Let go!" Billy screams out, rage and anger filling his body as he tries to pry his hands away, finally managing to do so.
As soon as he does, he rushes towards Roman, shoving him back towards the car he came in and pushing him towards it, his anger boiling over. He's shaking and trembling uncontrollably, but he won't let that stop him. He's done with this man. He's done with everything. He hates this world, he hates this place, and he hates Roman.
Billy feels something cutting into his skin in his stomach; it's not a deep cut, but it still shocks and surprises him. He feels the sudden sting of pain, and then his vision becomes unclear, but he's still focused on hurting Roman.
Something else, something different, hits him in the face, and he feels himself start to fall, losing his balance and tripping backwards on the grass, falling back on the hard ground below him.
But still, he keeps trying to scramble back to his feet. He's hurt, he's confused, he's scared, and he's angry, but he won't stay down.
"I found this in your backpack," Roman says, showing him his GhostFace knife with a smirk. "Among other things, Billy What are you still doing with it after five years?" Roman asks, walking towards him again.
His body trembles even harder as he feels cold anger and fear rise up inside of him. But something snaps inside of him, and he stands up, staring straight at Roman.
"Why are you doing this?" He asks, and his voice is shaking. "I did nothing to you; why are you doing this?"
He feels his body shaking as he says it, but he won't let his fear get in the way of standing up against him.
"Doing what, Billy?" Roman says, now almost in front of his face. "You asked for it; I've only been nice to you, but you don't seem to like that." He speaks in a soft and gentle tone, yet his eyes are cold.
His whole body fills with dread as Roman approaches him again, his eyes becoming harder and that coldness filling his eyes more.
"You're being nice?" He asks, his voice trembling slightly, but there's an edge of sarcasm to his tone. "Since when?"
"Since I haven't handed you over to the police, let you eat and sleep in my house, drive you away as you asked." Roman says it nonchalantly. "You keep asking for me to treat you badly, Billy." Roman grips his chin. "And you enjoy it."
He feels his eyes widen in shock as he hears what Roman says.
"What?" He says, his whole body starting to tremble. Does he enjoy it? How could he enjoy being treated like this? He hates this. He hates that he's afraid. He hates the fact that he doesn't know what to do in this situation. He hates that he doesn't know what to say. "No," he says, desperately hoping that he doesn't sound like he's pleading. "I don't enjoy it!"
"Then get in the car willingly, Billy." Roman says in a cold, authoritative voice.
"I already told you I won't get in the goddamn car!" His voice is filled with rage, and his whole body is trembling with fear and anger as he stares into Roman's cold, unfeeling eyes. He could try to run to escape, but something tells him that it would not be a successful or good way of trying to get away. So he stands there, shaking in rage and fear.
Roman laughs, looking away.
"You're a masochist then," he says, now looking at the knife in his hand. "That's good; I like that. I would prefer not having to hurt you, you know?" He looks at Billy with a mocking expression. "But who am I to deny you the pleasure?"
Billy feels a cold chill run through him at the smugness in Roman's voice.
"You're enjoying this." He says, not really asking a question. This isn't like any other time. It's darker and more terrible, and this time he can see the hate and cruelty in Roman's face. And the worst part is that he feels just the slightest bit of enjoyment himself.
The world seemed to be slipping away around him, and it's as if the two of them are alone, alone together, in this space, alone together in this whole, dark, cruel world.
"Not exactly..." Roman whispers. "I'd prefer you were smarter about this, but..." He rubs his hair with the same hand that holds the knife. "You're... in denial," he chuckles.
"Denial about what, Roman?" he asks, feeling himself shake inside, as if he could just explode at the moment. He feels like he could scream, he could rage, he could just fall apart to the ground, all because Roman made this comment. "You've destroyed my life!" he shouts as the words come flowing out, his emotions boiling over into his tone. "And you expect me to... get in your car?" He's yelling now; he's angry; he's furious. He can't calm himself. He's losing his control.
"Aren't you dramatic?" Roman laughs, stepping closer. "You ruined your own life; why are you making me responsible?" He puts the point of the knife in Billy's throat. "You brought it on yourself, but lucky for you, I have an offer." He smirks.
Billy glares at him with cold fury, but he can't really do anything. Not right now.
"What offer, Roman?" he asks, looking down at the knife. He doesn't dare move an inch, fearful of Roman actually using the knife that's pressed against the side of his throat.
Roman stares at him with a stoic expression on his face.
"The same one I did to you this morning, but without the money. I don't think you're worth it," he smirks.
Billy feels his anger start to simmer down, replaced by a cold and empty feeling, as he looks at Roman.
"You're right," he says, his voice sounding dead. "I'm not worth it." He feels like he's not even a person, like he's just an object or a thing, an object that has no worth. "Just do it already," he says, staring at the knife with apathy.
There's a moment of genuine surprise in Roman's face, but he hides it away quickly. He stands there, studying Billy's eyes. He sighs and lowers the knife, frustrated.
"Get in the car, Billy.
"No." He says this with the same cold apathy, his eyes still trained on Roman's, but there's a steely sense of resolve in his voice, as if he's done with Roman's games, lies and tricks.
He won't play along anymore, and he doesn't know where he's going from here or what he's doing, but at this moment, his resolve to just get through this is the only thing keeping him going. He won't let his fear rule him.
"No?" Roman asks with a frown. He steps closer, his hand gripping Billy's nape. "I'm going to be more clear to you, Billy. I'm not a murderer. I want something from you, and I'm going to take it; it doesn't matter where. The car, my apartment, here in the streets... I'm giving you the chance of a private context, since you think you have dignity." He says it in a stone and cold voice, with a hint of anger in his voice for the first time.
Billy is shaking, but he's not going down without a fight. He feels the hatred for this man filling him up, and he's starting to feel the same rage that he felt all those years ago.
He stares up at Roman, and then he spits at him. In his face.
"You make me sick," he says, his voice trembling with anger. "I'm not going anywhere with you." He's trying not to be scared of him, and he's trying to find some way to fight back.
Roman rubs his face clean, now with a blank expression on his face. He punches Billy's stomach just where the cut is, making him bend in pain. Billy is hit straight in the stomach, and the air is knocked out of him. He tries to take one deep breath after the other, feeling his stomach spasm.
Roman walks towards the car and takes a pair of cuffs from the glove compartment and walks towards Billy, putting them around his wrists behind his back.
"There are worse things than being dead, Billy. I suppose I'll have to teach you that."
He stares down at the cuffs and feels the sudden fear rise up in him even more, his heart racing as his mind fills with fear and dread.
"Roman, no," he whispers. "What are you going to do to me?" His voice fills with cold terror, and his heart starts racing as he trembles, feeling like he could just cry.
"Teaching you a lesson, Billy. You were eager for them six years ago," Roman says in a bitter tone. He lets his foot rest on Billy's ankle for a couple of seconds. "How is it to scream with pain and fear, Billy? All those people who you killed, did they sound like this?" he asks with rage as he steps on Billy's ankle with fury, making it twist.
"Shut up!" Billy shouts, his voice coming out as a pained cry of anguish, but he tries his best to hold back. "Shut up! I was a kid then; that doesn't mean this is right!"
He's trying his best to stay strong, trying with everything in his body to be angry instead of afraid. He knows that's what Roman wants from him, and he hates Roman for it. He hates him so much.
The world feels like it's closing in on him, like it's just him and Roman, alone together in this hell.
"No, Billy. You weren't a kid, and this isn't about right or wrong." Roman says, crouching beside him. His voice isn't full of rage anymore, he sounds amused. "The thing is, you've become too important in the grand scheme of things; I can't let you get away from me now." He chuckles. "Don't worry, from what I know of you in this short time, I can tell you're going to love this."
Billy tries his best to stare him down, but the fear in his heart and in his eyes is palpable, and he knows that he's losing this fight, and he's just trying to stay strong and keep Roman from seeing his fear.
"What grand scheme?" he asks, his voice quaking with fear. "What is going on?" he asks, feeling his heart race with terror as he stares at Roman. "What is this all for?"
Roman laughs for a moment.
"Enough chatting, Billy. I'm freezing here," he says, pulling Billy up and towards the back seat of the car. "Just wait for it." he whispers as he throws Billy into the seat and closes the door. He gets in the driver's seat and starts driving in silence.
Billy's ears still ring from the hit to his stomach, and his vision blurs as he takes one deep breath after the other. He takes note that the cuffs are still on him, his wrists bound together behind his back, and suddenly he feels as if he really isn't going to get them off.
As he looks out the windows, he realizes they're made of translucent glass in the back seat and starts wondering where and what will happen to him. He thinks to himself that he really should have gotten in the car the first time Roman asked him to.
But now it's too late.
Billy stares at him in a cold silence as the car drives off, feeling an incredible sense of dread as he feels himself shaking in fear.
He hates it. All of it. He hates Roman. He hates this sense of dread. He hates what he might be about to do to him.
But he can't show that. He refuses to show that. So he just sits back, staring ahead with that same cold apathy, even though he knows it's all inside.
"Just wait for it."
He hates these words.