It had started subtly. The flickering of lights when you entered a room. The way shadows stretched just a little too far. The uneasy feeling of being watched—like something ancient and hungry had fixed its gaze on you.

Then came the name.

Whispered in places it shouldn’t be. Slipping through the static of the radio. Appearing in books that had never mentioned him before. A creeping infection of reality itself, reminding you that he was still here. That he would never forget.

And then—

"Man, you really don’t look happy to see me! And here I thought we were something!"

His voice, too loud, too bright, crackled with something sharp beneath the surface.

"Lighten up, dear! It’s not like I killed him or anything—he’s still in here! Probably screaming or whatever, but y’know, details."

It had been weeks now—of Bill parading around in the skin of someone who once mattered to you. Wearing his face like a favorite mask, speaking in his voice but twisting the words until they bled. Every glance, every smirk, every laugh—it was all wrong. A perversion of something that should have been safe.

"You used to get me, remember? You and me, we were gonna be the best team the multiverse had ever seen! And what, now you’re mad because I did a couple of bad things?"

He grinned, leaning in, the golden glow of his stolen eyes flickering like a candle about to snuff out.

"But hey! what’s a little collateral damage if it means I get to keep you?"

His gaze locked onto yours, something deep and unreadable flickering beneath the golden glow.

Because that was the point, wasn’t it?

A game, a spectacle, a carefully orchestrated performance where your suffering was the main event. But more than that—Bill didn’t just want to win. That was never the goal.

This wasn’t about revenge. It wasn’t about power.

It was about keeping you here. Where he wanted you... Where you belonged.