final girl, stu macher

𝐨𝐧𝐞, 𝙥𝙮𝙨𝙘𝙝𝙤

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I
it always come back !

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Kimberly jumped in her sudden fear, closing her eyes at the blood and gore of the scene in front of her. The sound of a knife jagging into skin was loud in her ears.

"Turn that shit down, would you?"

With a roll of the eyes, Stu Macher lifted off the couch, moving Kim as well from his chest. "It's not even loud." He hummed, pushing his thumb into the down button of the remote.

"Well, it's distracting." Billy exited the living room again, probably retreating back into his own room.

It was an old movie playing, still in black and white. But, both Kimmy and Stu shared a love of classic horror, so it was an easy decision that they both could agree on when they sat down to find a movie.

It was Hitchcock's Psycho. In all honesty, Kimberly had never seen it before, but Stu would have freaked if she'd told him that. And, due to the fact it was released on her would-be birthday- if she'd been born nineteen years earlier.

She didn't hate it, not at all. But, after the past four years, blood and gore didn't sit right with her anymore.

Especially after going to the police station after the Windsor Massacre and accidentally eyeing a forensic photo of her bloody and lifeless best friend, Randy Meeks. At the time, she nearly vomited at the splattered crimson color covering his face, but the dopamine in her system got the better of her, and tears began to stream instead.

She thought about that memory nearly every night. Since she left Windsor, she'd cried to sleep, letting her thoughts get the better of her.

If I had gotten there sooner, maybe he would have never been in danger alone. If I had never left, he'd still be here. This is all my fault.

Her silent sobs concerned Stu to a point he'd lay with her until she stopped, even if he didn't plan on sleeping for hours. He blamed himself too.

I did this, I agreed to help Billy and she got dragged into everything. I would still be in Woodsboro right now, with her, a much happier her.

The guilt piled up until it wouldn't stop. That's when Kim left. She went right back to her kryptonite. She caved in.

After Billy's mom, and her former college friends took their last breaths, her and Sidney, both decided to move from Windsor. The original plan was to transfer out of town, together. But, something drug Kim outwards. Or, someone. Sidney knew just who that someone was. And, she understood it, too.

Sidney wasn't exactly upset at her choice. And, they kept in touch when she left. Her, and Dewey were the only ones that knew. Or, at least sort of knew. Kimberly decided it'd be best to leave Dewey out of the part where she returned to live with two serial killers who took away his sister. But, she did think to tell him where she'd be and how to contact her.

"What're you thinking about?"

Kim jumped from her thoughts, her eyes snapping away from whatever she'd been dazing at. "Nothing," she shuddered as his arm fell right back around her shoulder.

With a smile, Stu reached across the couch and grabbed a black and silver polaroid camera that'd been sitting on the end coffee table.

Kim watched as he placed the camera to his eye, pointing the lens in her direction.

"Stu, quit it."

She didn't get anxious or shivers around the camera like she used to, it didn't really bother her at all anymore. It used to, though. Back when she'd just found out about the uncandid pictures Stu liked to take.

"But, you look so pretty right now."
Although he had in fact killed people before, the compliment still gave her butterflies.

Except, she rolled her eyes in fake annoyance, "if you don't put that camera down, right now." She demanded.

It was too late, he'd already pressed his pointer finger into the round button next to the lens, and a flash went off before the polaroid began to render out. It was still plain white when he snatched it, waving it in his hands to help it develop.

"You little shit!"

She jumped on top of him, slapping his arm over and over. "Get off me, you little mut."

She laughed, continuing to use the palm of her hands to playfully beat him.

He shoved her off, almost letting her fall- but catching her, just as the landline next to the tv rang.

Their laughter died as quickly as it began, as they shared nonchalant looks. They knew just who it was, but Stu personally hated it when he called.
Kim stood, grabbing the phone and answering it. "Hello?"

"Kim, hey. How are you?" Dewey's voice was shaky, he only sounded like that when something bad was happening, or he was hiding something. She assumed the ladder.

All that returned was static for a moment. "Dewey, what's wrong?"

Kimberly could hear him exhale, obviously with deep thought. "Cotton Weary and his girlfriend were stabbed to death last night." His words came out quickly, like he was rushing to get them out of his mouth.

The phone nearly slipped from her fingers, her mouth agape. Stu could sense her tenseness from the couch, and he immediately stood up and let his fingers rest on her shoulder.

"What?" He asked quietly, not trying to let the phone speaker pick up his words.

"Stabbed?" Kim finally spoke in response.

"They checked the phone records, Cotton received two calls minutes before the time of death. He was targeted."

Still processing, Kim let the phone fall from her ear and turned to Stu, "it's happening. . .again."

A black duffel bag was thrown onto the king size bed both Kim and Stu shared.

Stu was standing in their bedroom doorway, arms crossed while he watched her unpack. "Kimmy, sweetheart, please, don't go. You've got a target on your back out there!"

She didn't say anything back immediately as she continued to toss unfolded clothes into the bag. After a minute of walking back and forth from her closet, she spoke, "Stu, you don't get it. I have too. Dewey, Gale, and Sidney have that same red target and who would I be to let them go through this alone?"

Stu's face scrunched up. "Trust me, Dewey and Gale will be fine. And, you said Sidney's in hiding, like you. As long as she stays out, and you, no one would even think about your favorite deputy and grimey news reporter."

Although Gale was never her favorite, she still cared about her, almost as much as Dewey. "Stop, they're important to me. Everyone knows they survived the original killings. If someone thinks about Sid and I, or maybe they want to draw us back out there, Dewey and Gale would be toast."

Stu's arms uncrossed to shift through his hair. He lifted from the wooden doorway, inching at her as he reached up and grabbed her wrists. "Kimmy, baby, just relax. Just, sit down and think about this for a minute."

She'd thought about it plenty, and she was sure of what she needed to do.
But, his warm touch made her lose focus, and the look his eye gave her made her stutter. He pulled her towards the bed, sitting down beside her.

"I wish you could come with me."

"I wish you wouldn't go."

Kim's eyes squeezed shut as their fingers interlocked.

After a minute, the two fell back onto the mattress' covers, still intertwined as they stood up at the cracked ceiling. "I'll be back, I promise." She swore.

Something inside her told her to move now, get up and leave and make the goodbye quick, that way it wouldn't hurt as much. But, she remained still, her breath pattern getting slower until it hit a calm medium. Still wrapped around him, feeling as content as she'd felt since she'd gotten that call.