Chapter Text
It was cold.
20 below, snow piled high with flurries falling fast.
Around this time of year, Hawkins became the physical embodiment of 'Hell Frozen Over.' Most of the people in the small town were set. Their large coats, layered on thick atop wool woven sweaters. Most grew up with the hellish weather, their blood thickened to withstand the harsh temperatures.
He however, was not from Hawkins.
He was cold.
It has been 5 months since that night. Since he was possessed. Since he was taken. Since he died. 5 months later. It was mid November. Leave it to Hawkins to have blizzards in November.
Billy could've sworn he died that night along with the other flayed. Along with all of those innocent people whom he brought to be brutally murdered.
That monster made him do terrible things against his control. Trapped him, a prisoner in his own mind. It wasn't his fault. Not really, it was that monster.
No Billy. You're the monster.
~
Now here he was, numb to the world around him.
He wasn't the Sun-kissed Californian heart throb and asshole he came here as. His once tan and toned skin now stretch across his tired bones, a pale translucent hide littered with deep pink scars. Once so heavily muscled, now reduced to sharp bones, threatening to break the barrier. He could barely hold his own weight, having to distribute himself on all fours just to walk.
That...thing. Left him a disfigured and disheveled shell of his former self. His teeth sharpened into canine like points, bloodying his lips with each shiver. His nails, now pointed claws. His eyes clouded and emotionless, constantly brimmed with frozen unshed tears. He knew what he looked like. Knew he terrified everyone. No one wants to get "involved" after what happened earlier that year. He didn't blame them.
No money, no job, no car, no friends, no family. He was truly alone in the bitter coldness of this fucked up town. Trapped with no escape. The resident ghost haunting the streets and back alleyways.
A monster.
~
He could've sworn he was dead. That this is some fucked up version of Hell for him. God punishing him for everything he's ever done. He took his mother, left him with Neil, made him queer, made sure he had no one. He never really believed in all that, maybe he should have.
But no. He was alive. How? He wasn't sure. No one should've survived that. Survived this.
He should be dead.
Wished he were dead.
Billy may have seemed like a fat headed idiot, hooked on getting with girls, partying, hanging with the wrong crowd. When in reality, he was smart. Like, top of the class smart. He knew what people truly thought of him. All those friends...
Friends.
Right.
The only people who truly acted like they gave a damn were lonely mothers looking for a good time because their dull headed husbands didn't do it for them anymore. Billy would flirt his way past them, itching to get their prying eyes off of him as soon as possible.
At least he didn't have to deal with them anymore. Anyone who looked at him now and still wanted to touch him obviously had something wrong with them. Then again, so did he.
He shed himself of all his clothes except for a pair of briefs, which now hung loosely at his sharp hips. The fabric irritated and froze to his scars. He doesn't remember when he ditched the clothes, just that he had to because they were wet and freezing.
He looked like an animal.
Felt like an animal.
He was an animal.
~
His best friend now being a dumpster outside the local diner. A home he shared with 12 stray cats and two dogs. Living off table scraps and old trashed food not even fit for the animals that feed off it. Billy hid within the shadows, a few cats snuggled at his feet. All waiting for the nightly drop off. It was never much and most of it he ended up retching back up onto the pavement.
The dogs waited patiently for his stomach to release.
~
Billy wandered around the small town of Hawkins. A ghost to anyone who caught a glimpse of his mangled frame.
He wasn't fully alone though.
Two of the stray cats kept him company. Rubbing up against his cold skin, their fur being a comfortable contrast from the bitter wind. One of the cats, a small pitch black kit with golden ember eyes, he named Salem. The other, a bigger Maine Coon with malted fur and one green eye, the other lost in an unknown battle. He named her Church after a cat in one of his favorite books, Pet Sematary.
His only friends.
Salem weaved his way in between Billy's arms and legs as they walked along the cold sidewalk. Church laid between his shoulder blades, dozing off as she kneaded his thinning skin. Billy relishes in the sharp pin pricks of her claws, the sudden brief pain reminding him that he's still here. That he isn't fully alone. Keeping him grounded and somewhat sane.
~
How he hasn't gotten hypothermia yet is beyond his knowledge. He shouldn't be able to survive like this, under these conditions. That thing fucked with his internal temperature gage, making him cold yet...not as cold as he should be.
It likes it cold...
~
He wanders. Wanders through the small town that abandoned him, not that it ever accepted him to begin with.
Wanders through those creepy woods, riddled with monsters from another world. He would have thought that they'd have all died along with their master, yet they still roamed. Mindless and hungry as he.
He could sympathize with the flower mouthed creatures. They didn't ask to be created. They didn't know any better. They were hungry, cold, and alone.
Just like him.
He's thankful that they leave him alone. Seeing him as one of their own, they don't attack him as they once may have. They sniff the air and just...stare. With no eyes, he wonders how they recognized him. Scent he guesses. He must smell amazing.
Right.
He no longer fears them. He sees them as equals. Freaks just like him, just trying to survive.
Survive...
Why is he trying to do that again?
Before, the only reason he kept going was to protect his sister. Keep her safe from Neil.
But now...? Now she hates him. She always has. He would hear her in her room at night, praying to God that her brother would just die. Wrap himself drunkenly around a tree and never come back. Wished that he would...would...
Shit.
Neil hates him more than before. The moment he saw that his son actually needed help, mentally and physically, he was done.
Everyone hates him.
So why..? Why is he trying to live?
He should have just died there, impaled on that monster.
Wishes he did.