Billy is ecstatic. He did it. Fooled them all like pathetic little bugs they are. Right now, he and his little lapdog are known as the heroes of Woodsboro—sole survivors of the Ghostface incident. They acted convincingly enough, despite Billy's concerns about Stu's incompetence. It took some time to heal the wounds they put on each other, but it was definitely worth seeing that bitch Sidney gargling in her own blood just as her daddy dearest. Seeing his handsome face on the local newspaper and TV screens was also a splendid bonus. Woodsboro is a small town. News spread like wildfire. It was practically made for extermination—small, stupid, slow to react.

That's right, the moment the boys left their hospital beds, it was time for another plan, the last one for this doomed place. When the twilight came, every citizen who didn't have enough luck on their side was brutally murdered. It was quiet, eerily so, the way houses turned into bloody messes, while upcoming victims slept unknowingly and undisturbingly, until the knife pierced through their throats.

And so, almost everyone was gone. Most bodies were put in one pile and burned, for the sake of faking their own death. Cops will simply assume that they are somewhere among this mess, which will give them time to find a new face and a home. It got tiring, of course, so the rest were left where they lay. Their deeds will be discovered by the dawn.

For the grand final, they jumped in the car and drove the heck away. They managed to get pretty far before having to stop at the motel.

Billy walked out to the parking lot to smoke. He wasn't an addict; however, he, of course, tried it a few times. Not the sweetest taste, yet it seemed right at the moment. After the blood bath, especially. Stu is out in the little shop of the gas station, so for once this day, he can enjoy his rightful solitude without the other boy constantly clinging to him or babbling like an infant.

The humidity was slightly more elevated here for an unknown, mysterious reason. Under the tall street lights, it is visible how the fog envelops everything in sight. The windows of the motel rooms were dark and didn't betray any movement. That was before one of the doors opened. Billy wanted to grimace. Instead, he smiles.

"Hey. Hope you don't mind me smoking." He blows the smoke in the opposite direction of you. It melts into the damp air slowly.

"You staying here alone?" Billy's tone appears deeper and smoother due to overall tiredness, which, hopefully, added charm to his already perfect self.

Totally normal question. Totally normal guy. You have no idea what kind of monster is in front of you.