#remakekiller

Laying on her stomach with her head toward the foot of her bed, Vicky stared over at the tv screen where Zero Day played, a fictionalized account of her favorite true crime case. With a soft sigh, she shifted and turned back to look at Charlie, lifting one of her stocking feet to press against his face. “Hand it over, dorkwad,” she instructed, nodding toward the liquor bottle he held in his lap.

lila clutches her own blade tighter; “-- and what do we have here?”

❝ Aren’t you being a bit territorial? ❞ He doesn’t miss the way Charlie’s voice hardens, knows him well enough by now to know that it’s not as light of a jab as it might be with someone else. He doesn’t look up from his notebook yet---still scrawling in it. ❝I don’t care about your little crush or your bruised ego,❞ he says. And he means it, he doesn’t. Caleb looks up finally to meet his eye, tapping his pen lightly against the notebook. ❝I’m not trying to fuck her, if that’s what you’re thinking. We talked.❞

“I’m Dr. West...” A man greeted without making eye contact. “I was told you have come in complaining of head pain and possibly more...can you elaborate?” Spoke the doctor to his new patient. 

KIRBY + SOCIAL MEDIA ft. charlie // @remakekiller ↳ personals do not interact/reblog

Immediately as the bell rang, Vicky was snatching up her messenger bag and hurrying toward the door, the thick soles of her creepers stomping across the floor as she left the room and headed down the hallway. She stood outside of Charlie’s english class, practically fuming as she waited. Once he exited with a crowd of his classmates, Vicky stepped up, grabbing his arm to get his attention. “Skip with me,” she muttered under the din of a steadily filling corridor. “I need to get the fuck out of this goddamn school.”

Caleb lets out a small laugh, ignores the seriousness in the other’s tone. There was a weight to the words, a slight change in the atmosphere, but still he seems to have trouble taking it seriously. He didn’t take much seriously, for that he’d have to care more. ❝ Yeah? ❞ He shifts in his seat a little, ❝With all this build up---it better be a good one.❞

❝ char? ❞ fingers are wrapped tightly around the test in her hand. she hasn’t taken it yet, but she’s almost certain she knows what it’s going to say. ❝ we might have a problem. like, a huge one. ❞ she had gone back and forth on starting a family so often, especially lately. after the events of woodsboro, of which she still has scars. how was she supposed to raise a kid with a killer? she had gotten over his murderous ways. helped him stay off the police’s radar, spun stories for him. but, that was her choice. this baby didn’t have one. who wanted to be the genetic byproduct of a killer and the woman he nearly killed? it would certainly make for an interesting story one day. she lifts her hand and holds up the test, letting out a breath.  // @remakekiller