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Why are you doing this?
Who are you?
All those thoughts tangle in her mind, a ball of yarn, but she doesn’t speak them. There’s no point. He won’t give answers. He’s playing with her, torturing her in his sick game—
And the closer he gets, the less of a chance she has.
Billie grunts against the pain blinding her, pounding in her head like a trapped fist, and pushes up from the floor. She doesn’t get a moment to catch her balance before she propels herself onto the staircase.
Fast, messy and scrambled, she clambers her way up the steps. Each one seems to slip out from under her sock-clad feet. Her hands wave and wobble out in front of her, the further up she goes, the darker it gets.
And behind her…
Thud.
Thud.
Thud.
Heavy, determined bootsteps following her up to the second floor.
“Kateee,” she wheezes, and it’s only then she realizes the wind was knocked out of her. She gasps on a raspy breath, grabbing the railing at the small landing. “Kateeeee!”
They’re up there.
The others.
The girls.
Her best friends—the ones left.
But Kate… She can’t let him get Kate.
She tries calling out again, but she only gets the chance to part her lips barely before he strikes—
Rushing up behind her, he cuts out with the knife. The serrated edge misses her neck onlyjustas she staggers back, eyes wild and wet.
She sucks in a sharp breath as her back collides with the wall.
She blinks—just once, and that’s how long it takes.
The killer is in front of her, he reels his bloody hooded head back…
Then cracks his head right into hers.
Billie grunts.
Hot, wet blood spills down her face.
She squeezes her eyes shut. The pounding in her head is stronger now, so strong she can barely keep standing, can’t hold onto her balance, and… she opens her eyes to blood falling down her face in a stream.
Legs buckle beneath her.
Billie’s final sound is something of a whine, then she slides down the wall, her arms going limp at her sides.
One final breath—
Then it all goes dark…
