Billy was a murderer, he presumed.
He had murdered Alice.
He had murdered Lilia.
He had murdered Mrs. Davis.
And though Agatha had told him otherwise, in her own twisted Agatha Harkness way, he couldn't simply take her word for it. He would be a fool to listen to anything that came from her mouth now.
“Well, I killed Alice,” Agatha announced, her tone dripping with a smug satisfaction, as if she were boasting about a great achievement.
“B-but Lilia, in the tower—” Billy stammered, desperation rising in his voice.
“That was her choice,” she replied coolly, a flicker of amusement in her eyes.
“Mrs. Davis!” he cried, the panic welling within him.
“...Who?” Agatha asked, feigning innocence.
Who? Who?! Seriously?!
He felt the walls closing in, the air becoming thick and suffocating. The more he thought about it, the more his mind spiraled out of control. His subconscious had literally created The Road.
He wished he weren't living this nightmare. He wished he had never let his curiosity get the best of him, and he wished this wouldn't hang over him like a dark cloud.
But the coven wasn't the only thing tormenting him, no...
William.
William Kaplan, the boy whose life he had stolen.
The boy who never had a funeral.
The boy who was never mourned.
The boy whose parents didn't even know he was gone.
He hadn’t meant to, and he understood that, yet… he couldn’t help but feel so sickeningly guilty.
Wrapping his arms around his knees, he sank down, trying to curl in on himself. Pathetic. He felt so utterly pathetic. His life wasn’t a sob story; he didn't deserve to wallow in self-pity.
“An abomination,” Rio's words echoed in his brain, consuming his very being. That’s all he was, and all he ever would be.
Suddenly, he heard a voice behind him. "Billy," it purred, thick with a smug undertone.
Agatha.
He turned, hastily wiping the tears from his face. “Great! Privacy out the window, huh?” he snapped, sarcasm overflowing.
“…I don’t even know how I did it,” he admitted, his voice cracking with anxiety. “I don’t know how I ended up in this boy's body, or how I made The Road real. I don’t know anything, and it’s freaking me out!” He buried his face in his knees, trembling as if trying to disappear entirely.
“And now… now I've killed another poor boy so my brother could live. Why didn’t you just let Rio take me?” he pleaded, his voice breaking.
Agatha sighed, making her hand corporeal. She placed it on Billy’s shoulder with a gentle yet firm grip. “Because it was my time. Don't you see? There are reasons for everything.”
Billy wanted to argue, to scream that she could have fought harder, that she had the chance to actually become something better. “No! It should’ve been me; I deserve it!” he shouted, his words laced with panic.
“If you're saying you deserve it because you… killed people,” she replied, a smirk dancing on her lips, “then we both had it coming, don’t you think?”
He couldn't deny that. “But… you had the chance to do more! You could’ve…”
He paused, internal reflection dawning on him, realizing she… had done something good; as unreal as it sounded. She had saved him.
She nodded, the smugness softening into something warmer. “I know you, Billy. You do realize that, don’t you? You may not remember, but I do. You said I was quiet. My brain was quiet. I found…” She cleared her throat, visibly struggling to soften her tone. “Comfort in your company. It made me feel… maternal, like I had a purpose. I felt a way I hadn’t felt in so long. I simply couldn’t give you up.”
Billy managed a shaky smile. “Be careful. You might end up disappearing into thin air if you’re too nice.”
“Don’t you put it past me,” she replied, her smile returning, though a hint of vulnerability peeked through. Then she let her hand fall through the boy's body and back to her side, as if ready to vanish at any moment.