The Death of Bill Compton – A Kill Bill Entry by MissRon80


A/N – This was an entry for a one-shot comp where there is one main rule; Kill Bill.  Be as creative as we like, use any characters we like but essentially at the end of it, Bill must be dead.  At the time this was announced, I had been battling what I thought was flu for several weeks.  (Turns out it was whooping cough that developed into pneumonia.  Yay!)  I hadn’t had the creative energy for anything for weeks.  One night however, at 2am, sleep deprived, drugged and pretty unwell, I banged this little tale out.  I make no secret of the fact that I hate Bill so I wanted to kill him in the most creative way I could think of.  And I won!!!!  Yeah, there was only one other entry beside me but hey! Sick, drugged, sleep deprived, zero creative energy me takes it as a win nonetheless.

25/06/14 – Kill Bill 2 coming soon!


A Kill Bill Entry



Disclaimer: Characters owned (sadly) by CH and HBO.  I just like to play with them as they need to be played with.

Day 1

 Bill ‘woke’ to find himself chained with silver to the floor of……where the hell is he? He had vague memories of men dragging him from his home to a vehicle, and of a woman perhaps directing them, but nothing more than that. Who are they? How on earth did they get past all of his guards? Did they not realise that he is King of Louisiana?

Bill attempted to move from the floor but the silver chains kept him firmly in place as well as weakening him. He groaned from the pain. Truth be told, while Bill was a vampire, he was a bit precious and was fearful of any and all pain. He revelled in his strength as a vampire but lived in fear of the few things that could bring him harm. Looking around, Bill could see that he was in a room somewhere, devoid of furniture and apparently light tight. He concentrated to try to hear what was going on beyond the room but it was silent. Completely so in fact. There was no background noise at all.

‘Great’, he thought to himself, ‘Witches. They must have spelled the room to make it sound proof’.

Putting his head back down, Bill simply lay there with no choice except to wait,

Day 6

 The sound of pain-filled groans filled the room, and a sound that could be likened to steak sizzling on a BBQ. Still chained to the floor, Bill lay in what was supposedly a light tight room for days, no-one coming to the room, no blood provided, nothing. There was simply the silence and this room. After the 3rd day Bill stopped trying to call for help, realising that even if anyone were to hear him, they probably wouldn’t the kind of person to help him; so he simply waited. Then, this morning, just as Bill began to once more fall into a fitful day rest, he heard a sound on the roof above him. Gazing upward, he heard the sound of footsteps crossing the roof, then a power drill started up. Almost as soon as it began, the noise ceased, and the footsteps retreated. Bill wondered what they were doing. He soon found out.

 As the sun began to rise, he saw the tiniest bit of light pierce the darkness in the roof above him. Curious, Bill watched as it became brighter, not understanding. By full noon however, he soon did. Whoever drilled the hole, did it in the perfect spot and the sunlight shone down onto his skin. As the sun moved, it drew a line across his body… Currently, Bill was shifting uncomfortable, desperately trying to escape the tiny beam of light as it made its way closer and closer toward his crotch. Not for the first time, Bill closed his eyes in agony, hissed, and wondered once again what he had done to deserve this.

 Day 13

 The sound of dripping water was only drowned out by the hisses of pain that punctuated each drip. Drip. Hiss. Drip. Hiss. Drip. Hiss. For several days, Bill could no longer remember how many, he has been left to lie in this room, each night gaining some small amount of strength back, only to have it all taken away again each dawn and the tiny beam of light. Several other tiny beams of light joined it throughout the days but that light, that first light, that was the one he hated the most. Then one night he suddenly found himself, sleepy? Confused, he succumbed to the sensation and when he woke those little lights had gone, only to be replaced a bag of liquid suspended above him.

 Curious, Bill watched it silently, simply staring, until suddenly…….Drip. That was when he realised the water was laced with silver. Slowly, achingly slowly, the bag emptied one drop at a time, taking the whole day to empty, as it dripped slowly onto his forehead. Whoever was holding him must have found a spell to put him to sleep, allowing them to come in and set up this new torture. He swore that once he was free, he would find a way to make them pay.

He once again tried to move his head out of the way of the silver, but couldn’t; his head held firmly in place against the floor with a fur-lined silver chain. The back of his head began to burn as the tiny drips created a pool of water beneath him and it was at that moment Bill realised that he was well and truly fucked.

Day 27

 Bill lay face down on a table in the middle of his cell. He could no longer remember when he stopped calling it a room but he had accepted that this prison cell with no bars had become his new home. For what felt like weeks, Bill was slowly driven mad by the silver-laced water that dripped onto his forehead for the entire day and night. Occasionally he found himself suddenly overcome by the overwhelming need to sleep and when he woke, a new strategically placed bag of liquid was above him. First his forehead. Then his left nipple. Then his right nipple. Then his belly button. These were soon joined by left elbow, right elbow, left knee, right knee and finally, his penis; all suspended there, silently, waiting, as if holding their breath, then suddenly…. Drip.

Days and nights blurred into each other as Bills whole world became reduced to a series of water drops falling onto his body. For a while he tried to keep silent, tried to not give whoever his captor was the satisfaction of hearing him cry-out but soon the overwhelming pain became too much. After days of screaming, his voice gave out and Bill withdrew into himself, finding a place inside his mind where he could hide and there he remained.

Then once again he fell into slumber, and when he woke he found himself strapped, face down, on a table in the middle of the room and nothing else. He strained once more to see if he could hear anything beyond these four walls but the lack of blood in his system was beginning to weaken his senses and he was unable to ascertain anything.

 And so, taking a small amount of pleasure from not being in pain for the first time in days, Bill simply lay there and daydreamed.

 Day 72

 Bill lay shaking on the table, too overwhelmed with pain, blood loss and starvation to do much else. His eyes fixed to the ceiling as he tried to find someway to escape within himself once more to avoid this new agony.

 For twenty-four glorious hours, Bill had been free from torture following his sudden placement on the table. For twenty-four hours, his new favourite twenty-four hours ever, Bill had simply lay there and rested. The fur-lined silver cuffs holding him down kept him from being able to break free, but at least he wasn’t in pain and he thought perhaps that was the end of whatever it was his captors had been aiming to do. By the time hour twenty-three came along, Bill had all but convinced himself he would soon be set free. His hope was short-lived however when at exactly hour twenty-four, the door opened. Straining to hear what was happening, he heard soft footsteps step inside the room, close the door, and make their way toward him. His head held securely facing away from the door, he simply had to wait to find out what was happening.

 For many minutes, Bill listened to the sound of his captor breathing. He was almost convinced they were female but he couldn’t be certain. He listened to their heartbeat, steady, showing no signs of exertion or emotion or fear. He listened as he heard them quietly open a bag and remove some items from within it. All he could do was listen as the minutes ticked by. Maybe it was self-preservation, maybe it was fear or maybe it was simply exhaustion but Bill didn’t even try to speak with this new occupant; all he did was wait.

 Soon, he heard the sound of several lids being unscrewed, the sound of something being tipped into a container and a lid being replaced before the contents were shaken. Once more the lid was removed as the person stepped toward the table. Bill found himself holding an unnecessary breath as he waited for what was about to happen.

 He jerked as he felt a pinch in his left shoulder-blade and hissed with pain. Something, something small and wooden was being pushed into his body however he soon found that was not all. Whatever these mini-stakes were, they were also laced with silver. He choked back a groan as a second soon followed. He soon lost track of how many of these things were pushed into him and didn’t even notice when his captor left the room.

 Each evening for many weeks, his captor would quietly enter his cell, just as quietly stand there, observing him, almost as though they were memorising their handy-work, and then would begin to push whatever the hell they were into his body; each one sharp, each one laced with silver and each one left right where they were placed. In his weakened state, Bills body didn’t have the reserves to heal on its own and so did not have the energy to expel these mini daggers. After many days, Bill believed he must now resemble an Echidna, an Australian animal similar to the hedgehog but with much sharper spikes.

 One day, his captor brought friends with her and they turned him over onto his back, forcing the spikes further into his body as his weight settled on the table, and once they left, she started on his front. During a brief moment where he wasn’t delirious with pain and hunger, he realised he was being slowly impaled with tooth-picks. Whoever this insane individual was, they were staking him with fucking toothpicks that had been soaked and dipped in silver! They were inserted into him throughout his body, very carefully avoiding his heart, but not so careful with other body parts.

When this sick fucker started inserting them into his cock, Bill finally began trying to escape once she had left the room, all the while knowing that there was no way for him to get free.  The ones that were inserted into the slit at the head of his penis caused him to scream a scream that had never been screamed by him before and wracking sobs heaved from his chest.  The tears that escaped from his eyes were pale due to lack of blood but noticeable nonetheless.  Once Bill had finally ceased screaming, his torturer once more silently put everything carefully back in the bag, and walked toward the door.

Hearing them pause, Bill waited for whatever was coming next.  The door opened, and as they stepped outside he finally heard a voice other than his own for the first time since his arrival at this place, and the words they spoke caused a chill to run down Bills undead spine.

“This is only the beginning.”

Day 114

 Bill could no longer remember a time he wasn’t in pain, wasn’t screaming in agony or crazy with hunger.  Sometime in the past someone had dripped a small amount of blood into his mouth, not enough to do any good but enough to give him a small amount of strength, only to go right back to torturing him once evening came.

After his entire body had been invaded by those tiny wooden stakes, his tormentor had moved on to newer and inventive tortures.  Right now for example, he was lying bound on a tanning bed as it was turned on for 10 seconds every ten minutes.  This had been going on for days so he could only speculate that either there were people taking his torture in shifts, or the bed was set on some kind of timer.  For ten seconds his entire body hissed and sizzled as the UV rays of the bed tried to end his undead life and for nine minutes 50 seconds Bill lay there hoping that the next round would be the one that would finally finish him.

Bill no longer had the will to fight, nor the will to live; all he could see in his future was more of what he was going through stretch out into eternity.  At some point he had become coherent enough to release Jessica, realising that where she was, she was most likely feeling his pain, and while Bill was selfish, he had come to care for the progeny he had been forced to sire.  No matter the circumstances that had forced them together, she did not deserve to be tied to man who was reduced to finding peace in nine minute fifty second allotments.  Sensing the time drawing near, Bill instinctively tensed, trying desperately to shield any small part of his body from the light that caused his skin to smoke, blacken and burn, only to have it heal somewhat in the time between roastings.  How he was still alive he did not know.  He thought he would have caught alight and burned to death long ago and yet here he was, still alive, still burning, and hoping against hope this nightmare would soon end.  A witch must be doing something to keep him alive, that was all he could think of, and he found he wished he had decided to end all of their kind after the Moon Goddess debacle.  That was one cluster-fuck he had no desire to see repeated.

Lying there, eyes closed, body tensed and senses alert, he realised it had now been ten minutes, nine seconds since the last dose of light and he found himself letting out a breath he did not know he was holding.  Relaxing completely for the first time in days, Bill weakly shifted as he tried to get an idea of what might be going on.  His wish was soon answered when the door opened, and his captors goon squad entered, roughly dragging him from the tanning bed, all while wearing silver laced gloves and moving him to a wooden chair that had seemingly appeared from nowhere in the middle of the room.  He was strapped to it, legs and arms bound, and soon left alone as the brutes left the room, taking the evil bed with them.  Exhausted, Bill began ti succumb to day rest when the door soon opened once more.

This time a long man entered, bringing with him a UV pole that had blood attached.  Not saying a word, the man, an angel Bill was sure, hooked him up to the blood and just as silently left the room.  Sitting there staring at the needle in his arm, watching as fresh blood slowly made its way into his system, Bill wondered if maybe he was soon to be let go.  He was soon to discover he was once again incorrect.

Day 193

Bill sat shivering in this damned wooden chair, wishing desperately he could escape, knowing that it was still impossible.  His feet sat encased in dry ice and as the pain sliced through him, he used that pain to try and stay focused, determined to find a way to get out of this room once and for all.  For a week, Bill had been given blood to build up his strength, at first intravenously, and then orally as his body once more became accustomed to nourishment.  It is true that starvation won’t kill a vampire, at least not quickly, nor could a sudden intake of their food source make them ill, but whoever was holding him was doing everything they could to bring him back to peak physical condition in the almost kindest way possible.  Bill had absolutely no doubts whatsoever that should he find himself face to face with his abductor outside of this room, that he would waste no time in ripping their head from their neck, scooping out their brains, and using it as a punch bowl.  His entire focus was on trying to think of even more heinous torture methods than had been done to him in order to repay the debt and he used this new focus to try and plan his escape.

As he sat pondering the use of metal under the fingernails, he heard the sound of the door once more being opened.  A figure stepped inside and closed the door, carrying with them a bag.  Not uttering a word, Bill watched as they walked steadily toward him, without hesitation or fear, and Bill longed for the days with Lorena where they left in their wake a blood bath across America.  Stopping in front of him, the figure dropped the bag to the floor.  From the scent Bill could detect, he realised this was the same person who stabbed him the toothpicks and was able to confirm that they were indeed female.  Tilting his head to the side watching her, he silently sat and observed as she knelt at his feet and opened the bag.

From it, she produced two metal bowls and placed one underneath each of his feet, and then reached into the bag once more and brought out bottled of water, pouring the contents into the bowls.  Unable to help himself, Bill spoke.

“Washing my feet?  You seem to have finally realised who you are dealing with.”

The visitor sarcastically chuckled quietly as she continued to pour.

“I know very well who I am dealing with Mr Compton, and believe me when I say that this the one and only time you will ever see me kneel before you.”

The bottles empty, she placed them back in the bag before rummaging for something else.  Bills blood ran cold when he saw her lift a car battery from within, complete with wires already attached.  He immediately began squirming in an attempt to break free, but the woman simply raised an eyebrow at him as she arranged the new items around him.

Small clamps were attached to his ear lobes, nipples, testicles and tongue and wires screwed into them.  tears ran freely down Bills face as he begged her with his eyes to not do this.  Tilting her head to the side as she watched him, she simply stepped back and waited until he calmed.  Arms crossed loosely across her chest, she appeared completely unaffected by the display in front of her, not taking pleasure nor appearing distressed by seeing a vampire reduced to begging in front of her.  In fact, if he hadn’t heard her heart beating, he’d have thought she were a vampire.

Finally reacting to some sort of self appointed signal, the woman sat, lifted the car battery into her lap and gave a small smile to him.

“Lets see if we can’t put a spark into our relationship shall we?” she said.

And she touched the wires to the terminals.

Day 301

If Bill had access to a mirror, he would no longer be able to recognize himself; gaunt, grey, weak and useless.  He was no longer held by silver, there was no need that was how little energy he had.  The few times he had tried to get the upper hand on his captors, he had been simply sprayed with silver before they retreated from the room.  He soon learned there was no getting out of here.

The shock treatment had been administered for a few days before his sadistic captor grew tired of it, claiming it was to good for him and didn’t cause anywhere near enough damage.  His tongue blackened from repeated shocks, he had been unable to respond, simply groaning in response and once more wishing for death.

It was strange that in some perverse, twisted way he was growing to admire this woman that held him against his will.  Her creativity in regards to new and painful tortures seemed to know no bounds.  After the shock treatment there were the days where she would literally peel the skin from his body with a potato peeler, occasionally switching to an apple corer when she reached his stomach area, or to a cheese grater if she was feeling particularly whimsical.

When that was done, Bill found himself placed inside a perspex coffin with a small sliding door part way down.  The evil bitch poured fire ants in with him and left him for several days.  When she returned, the ants were removed and he was allowed to recover, only to have the ants replaced with maggots that slowly ate through his dead flesh.  She made certain that she kept the main part of his body covered in cling-wrap to protect him, but his arms, legs, groin and top of his head were fair game.  Bill lay there listening to the sounds of the maggots eating through him and was unable to even scream due to the plastic across his face, forced to endure the pain of having his flesh torn from his bones one microscopic bite at a time.  He decided he really hated maggots.

Once that was through and he had once more healed, his coffin was lifted off the floor and what could only be described as a giant bunsen burner was set up underneath.  Bill watched in morbid fascination as his coffin was then filled with water and the burner turned on.  For what felt like weeks, Bill was literally boiled alive, flailing in the boiling water in a desperate bid to escape the heat, but without luck.  Silver was soon added to the water just because.

As the months rolled by, Bill endured torture after torture, still no closer to understanding why he had been captured, why he had been singled out, what he had done to incur the wrath of the woman he had decided was the devil incarnate.  In all that time, she had spoken literally five sentences to him and no amount of begging or pleading could coax more from her.  She remained completely neutral through the months, only occasionally belied by a smirk or an amused eyebrow raise.  She didn’t seem to feel the need to gloat over him the joy she was getting from causing him all this pain and for that he was somewhat grateful.  He had always been a proud man and to have been reduced to this thing by a mere woman crushed the part of him that once believed he was superior over everyone; especially women.  It was that part of him that had lead him to believe that Sookie was a poor defenseless human who needed him and only him and that without him she would cease to be able to function.

Good god, Sookie!  In all his time here, he had not once even thought of her, so focused on his own situation was he that apart from that one unselfish moment regarding Jessica, he had thought nothing of the other woman that had been his focus for so long.  At the time he had been captured, Eric had just regained his memory by Sookie’s doing and though she admitted to still loving Bill, had said that she was no longer in love with him, and that Eric was the one she truly cared for now.  Bill had seethed when she declared this and had vowed to find a way to bring Sookie back to her rightful place at his side and finally end Eric once and for all.  He had just decided to begin to make his move against the sheriff when he had been captured.  He wondered what had become of them?  Sookie was most likely still living in Bon Temps, still a waitress at that dive that calls itself a bar for the shifter, and most likely alone.  There was no way after all this time that Eric would still be hanging around; he’d have gotten his fill of her, grown bored, and discarded her as soon as something newer came along.  Sure he might be keeping her around for her telepathy and the occasional fuck, but the love he claimed to have felt for her would have gone long ago and his true nature and feelings revealed.  Ah yes, if there was one thing Bill could take comfort in, it was the fact that Sookie most likely regretted breaking up with him and still pined for him to this day.  A small smile formed on Bills lips.  Yes, she would most definitely have regretted her decision by now.

As Bill lay there gloating internally at hypotheticals he made up in his own mind, he missed hearing the sound of the door opening.  He only became aware he had company when he heard the rattle of metal against metal as a trolley was wheeled into the room and the door closed behind it.  Lifting his head, Bill peered at the sadistic bitch in front of him.

God he hated her, no loathed her, no despised her.  He hated everything there was about her; her hair, her eyes, her smile, she stance, the way she breathed, the way she walked, everything.  He hated the way she looked at him with no emotion in her eyes, the occasional smirk the only thing giving hint to her true feelings toward him.  Truth be told he was grateful for that.  If he could see what it was she felt as she tortured him, he was certain it would chill him in a way nothing had ever done so before.  With this in mind, he kept his mouth shut as she stood before him, hands casually on her hips, as her eyes roved over his naked form.

In all the time he had been here, he had been naked and not once did this seem to bother her.  Nor did Bill detect any hint of lust from her at seeing him on display for her.  Long ago there had been a moment where she had been regarding him, her eyes slowly moving down his body and as they reached lower, she seemed to pause.  Bill, immediately believed she was impressed with what she was seeing and just as he was about to comment, he heard her chuckle quietly under her breath and could have sworn he heard her say “Lol.  He’s definitely not large for flaccid”.  From that moment on, Bill had begun to doubt himself as a man.

From his place chained against the wall, Bill regarded the woman in front of him.  She had her head tilted to one side and her brow furrowed as though she were in deep concentration.  The way her eyes kept darting from his leg to his arm was making him very uncomfortable.  Whatever it was she had dreamed up to do to him now, he knew it wasn’t good.  Seeming to come to a decision, she stepped back and turned toward the trolley that was hidden by her form.  Bill could hear metal objects being moved about on the tray until he heard a soft, “Ah ha!” and she turned back toward him.  Hands behind her back, she casually wandered over to him.

“Tell me Bill, do you suffer from low self-esteem?”

Confused at her question, Bill simply kept looking at her.

“I mean, most vampires I have met seem to have great self-esteem.  All of them feel powerful and attractive and god-like in some way and I am most curious if there are vampires out there suffering from low self-esteem.  So please, enlighten me.  do you have self-esteem issue?”

Pausing for a moment, Bill coughed slightly before answering.

“Once I would have said no.  I believed I was a good-looking man.  I believed I was powerful.  I was wealthy.  I was King.  I had women offering themselves to me.  I thought I was quite the catch.  I no longer am so sure.”

She seemed pleased with his answer.

“Excellent!  My that is just wonderful.  It’s fantastic to know that it’s not just humans who have moments of self doubt.  Its rather comforting to know that such powerful creatures can have such human emotions.  Makes me believe that co-existence is possible after all.  Now tell me Bill, which body part are you least fond of?”

A cold chill ran down Bills spine at the casually asked question.  He realised he was possible more fucked now than he had ever been before.  Instinctively pulling at the chains restraining him, Bill paused to at least give the impression he was giving her question  serious consideration.

“I… I… I’m not sure what you mean.”

“Oh come now Bill. Surely it is not a difficult question to answer.  Is there any part of your body you could change or get rid of if you wanted to?”

Eyes wide with dawning horror, Bill looked right at the woman in front of him.  He knew there was no escaping whatever was coming next and delaying the inevitable would simply make things worse for him.

“I can’t say I’ve ever given it much thought.”

Shaking her head, her face fell and she tsked loudly at him.

“Such a shame.  I had thought you were much more self-aware than this.  it really is a shame.  I guess I’ll just have to choose one for you.”

Stepping forward, she brought her hands out from behind her back to reveal wire cutters.  Fucked was an understatement Bill now realised as his personal she-demon moved toward him.

Day 365

What lay on the floor of the room was once called William Compton.  It was hardly recognisable as that any longer.  Limbs missing, fangs half grown back, one eye gouged out; in all it was a horrific and pathetic sight to see.  So many days ago she had begun by removing both his little toes.  He was then fed blood to speed the healing process only to have them removed again.  One by one the days went by and with them, more toes were cut from his body.  Soon his fingers joined them, only to be followed by one half of a leg, then a hand, then a foot and on and on it went.  She left his manhood til last and he wasn’t sure whether to be grateful or horrified at that fact.  The simple fact remained that whatever was once described as William Compton had ceased to exist many weeks ago.

Agony infused every cell in his body as he lay there, feeling his limbs once more beginning to regrow, knowing that whatever progress was being made would soon be undone once IT returned.  Bill no longer believed IT to be a woman, convinced that whatever this was, IT was not human, and most definitely not of the fairer sex.  IT seemed to have no emotion and a stronger stomach than most vampires he knew.  Not once had IT balked at the horror IT was inflicting, or at the blood that was sprayed around the room.  IT was very careful to not get any of his blood in IT’s mouth, going so far as to wear a surgical mask as added protection.  It appeared as though IT had no desire to taste vampire blood.  Bill supposed this was a good thing.  He couldn’t imagine what else IT could think up if IT had access to vampire abilities, only that it wouldn’t be good.

Bill no longer dreamed of escape; he dreamed of death.  He longed for the day when IT would finally lead him to his final death so that he could escape the horror he found himself living.  Bill had no clue what it was he had done that had caused him to be captured, held and tortured for as long as he had, but whatever it was, he was more than happy to apologise for it.  Whatever it was, he would happily confess to it if it meant no longer having to endure anymore.    Never in his existence had he heard of anyone going through what he had and he wouldn’t wish it on his worst enemy.  All he wanted now was to simply close his eyes and never have them open again.

The sound of the door opening cause what was left of Bill Compton to tense and he waited for IT to approach.  Strong hands suddenly lifted him and wrapped chains around him before securing him to the wall once more.  Eyeing IT across the room, he noticed that it didn’t have the trolley with IT today.  In fact, he couldn’t see that IT had brought anything with IT.  Relief flooded through him as a small ember of hope flickered that he may have today to simply rest.  He watched as IT approached, dragging a chair with IT before sitting in front of him, legs crossed demurely in front of him.  If he’d had any sense of himself remaining, he’d have found the gesture pleasing.

“Well well Bill.  Happy Anniversary!  You have been my guest for exactly one year today!  isn’t that exciting?”

Not knowing what else to do or say, Bill simply nodded.

“I guess you are wondering why I brought you here in the first place, am I correct?”

Staring at IT, Bill simply nodded once more.

“Why payback Billy boy!  Payback!  Payback for all the things you have done that you have gotten away with!  Payback for every underhanded, dishonest, selfish and cruel thing you have ever done.  I grew tired of watching you waltz about, seemingly untouchable, and I decided to do something about it”

Bill looked steadily at IT as IT  spoke, not certain of what to say, or if he needed to say anything.  He decided to keep his mouth shut as IT continued.

“You see Bill, I’ve known Sookie and Eric for a little while now and I’m quite fond of the two of them.  Sure they aren’t perfect and there are times I want to just slap both of them on the back of the head with a 2 x 4 and tell them to wake up to themselves, but for the most part, I’m really very fond of them.  Seeing them together gives me such a happy and I do so like being happy.  Do you like being happy, Bill?”

Mouth still firmly shut, Bill once again simply nodded.

“Of course you do!  That would be why you would make sure you got what you wanted all the darn time and not once considered the feelings and desires of those around you.  Let’s start at the beginning shall we?  First, we have Sookie.  You go to Bon Temps under orders from your Queen, you play on Sookie’s kindness and then almost get her killed just to get your blood in her.  While I don’t agree with forcing blood on anyone, surely there would have been less dramatic and life-threatening ways to go about it?  Mixing it in with the ketchup?  Popping it in her tea?  Making Mamas special strawberry jam and guess what the secret ingredient is?  All much less painful ways of getting your blood in her and would have gone a long way to help endear you with the folks in town also.  Then, you take her to a vampire bar.  Now, while this particular development was actually quite awesome because she got to meet Eric, it really was an incredibly stupid move.  If you suspected for even a second that she was a telepath as was believed at the Royal court, and also thought that Eric Northman was the biggest douchebag ever as you personally believed, why on earth would you allow the two of them to possible cross paths?  Yes Sookie was unable to be glamoured into staying away, but surely you could have perhaps offered to have ‘a friend’ look into the murders for her, something to keep her away from the inevitable danger that always comes with you lot.  Really Bill, did you ever think at all?  Next we have Adele and Tina.  Yes, I know that Rene was the supposed murderer here, but lets look at some facts shall we?  First, all his other victims were strangled, very neat, no mess and quite civilised really.  suddenly we have Adele who was left laying in a pool of her own blood for Sookie to find.  This wasn’t the death of someone who had interacted with vampires.  No.  This was a death designed to deliberately scare someone into needing ‘protection’ from someone bigger, badder and stringer than the killer.  Hmm, chin scratch here.  Wonder who that might be, huh Bill?  Same with poor Tina.  weird thing is Bill, none of the other victims got warnings.  None.  Zilch.  Zippo.  No, they all just got good and killed all on their own. Somehow methinks that Rene may have done the killing, but he was maybe given a little ‘glamorous’ nudge perhaps?  You orchestrated the deaths of two innocent beings for your own gains and no-one was the wiser.  Taking Sookie’s innocence even though you didn’t love her.  And let’s not forget poor Jessica.  You had a choice here Billy boy.  Yeah it was a crap one for you but it was a choice nonetheless.  This poor innocent young girl had done absolutely nothing wrong and yet somehow she gets punished for your crime?  Yes yes, we all know the Magister ordered it but you didn’t try very hard to find or suggest an alternative did you?  Really Bill, you’re really starting to look like a real jerk here.  Lets not forget hanging out with Lorena as Sookie is almost raped.  Or almost raping and draining her to death?  Or killing Sophie-Anne just so you could be king even though, yes, Sophie was nuttier than peanut butter but she was still your Queen.  And save the whole, “As King I can keep Sookie safe” thing.  Insert an eye-roll here.  Following along so far?  Not boring you am I?”

Bill shook his head as IT lay his most recent life out before him.

“What else is there?  Hmmmmm.  Almost killing Eric when he lost his memories, not because he was a danger but because you saw an opportunity to remove your biggest threat, even though Eric had never in any way coveted being a Monarch.  Sookie mysteriously getting shot and you once again giving her blood.  I wonder who the only people holdings guns were that night?  and lets not forget your plans to dig Russell up, convince him to not kill you and then let him loose on Eric.  My my Bill but you have been a naughty boy.  And these are just the most recent things.  You have been a very busy boy over the years Beehl.  Well, would you like to know where everyone is now?”

By this stage, Bill honestly didn’t care.  It was true, he was a selfish creature and all he could think of was escaping the nightmare his life had become.  Sending Bill’s lack of caring, the woman continued anyway.

“Let’s see shall we….  Eric is, not surprisingly, King now.  He didn’t wan’t the job but he realised if he wanted something done right, he was going to have to do it himself.  Louisiana had flourished in the last year under his leadership and I suspect New Orleans will be a great city once again also, if not better, once he is done with it.  He and Sookie are bonded and sure, they bicker almost constantly but they adore one another nonetheless.  They plan on marrying by knife and human custom just as soon as they can clear time in their schedules.  You see Bill, with Eric’s encouragement, Sookie has been taking night classes in various things and she is slowly finding her passion.  She wants to be a counsellor and I have no doubt at all that she won’t be anything else but brilliant at it.  You would have kept her the vampire version of barefoot and pregnant and never would have allowed her to find her potential and don’t even try and deny it.  She is so much better off without you.  So is Jessica in fact.  Not long after your disappearance, “somebody” may have suggested getting a witch to break the maker bond you had to her and tying her to someone else, which is how Eric found himself with not one, not two, but three vampire females to wrangle.  Tara is a handful but Pam is managing just fine.  Eric might be a big bad Viking vampire, but he seems to enjoy surrounding himself with females he can spoil.  So you see Bill, everyone is much better off without you and really, you won’t be missed.  Which is why I have decided it is time to end you.  I’ve had my fun, gotten it out of my system and I think it is time to move on.  Eric and Sookie are happy.  Jess is happy.  Everyone is happy and noone is missing you whatsoever.   I’ve wasted enough energy on hating you and now that it is out of my system, I can move on with my life.  I do have to say one more thing however…. Everyones obsession with you there for a while claiming that YOU were Sookie’s soul mate and that you two belonged together.  Blah blah blah.  Vomit vomit vomit.  Now that they weird chubby bloke has moved away, people seem to be waking up to themselves and its about damned time”.

Standing, IT reached behind IT’s back and pulled out a stake.  Stepping toward me, IT fixed me with IT’s gaze and regarded me momentarily.

“If you have anything you want to say or ask, you better do it now”.

Regarding her, Bill finally opened his mouth to speak.

“Who are you?  What is your name?  How do you fit into all of this?”

Smiling, the woman casually places one hand on her hip and she takes up a very Pam-like stance.

“Who I am doesn’t really matter to you.  How I fit into all of this is easy.  I Love Eric and Sookie.  I have loved them since the moment I met them.  Admittedly I love Eric more and sometimes think he can do better but if he loves Sookie, then that is who I want him to have.  I’ve gotten to know both of them so well over the short time I’ve been acquainted with them and adore seeing them together.  It is my goal in life to make sure people understand that as long as there is an Eric, that is who Sookie belongs with.  As for my name….. Ironically my surname is Payne.  I find i appreciate the symmetry in that.  But you can just call me Miss Ron.”

And with that, Bill saw the stake as it was plunged toward his heart and in the split second before his body disintegrated into goo on the floor, he found himself curious to know more of this woman.  Then he was no more.

Stepping back, Miss Ron wiped her hands on the towel she had brought with her.  The last 365 days had been the most fun she had ever had.  She loathed Bill Compton and stringing his death out over a year was the best thing she had ever thought of doing.  Hearing the sounds of the house coming to life around her, Miss Ron turned and closed the door for the last time.


14 thoughts on “The Death of Bill Compton – A Kill Bill Entry by MissRon80

  1. Pingback: I WON!!!!!!!! | MissRon80

  2. Ah…reading this again only warms the cockles of my heart! There’s simply no way to really kill Bill that’s good enough, but this comes close enough to my wicked imagination for his demise, especially with him going to his final death knowing that all his enemies (and most especially his merahcal, Sookeh) are happy as well as no one giving a thought to his disappearance. Justice has never had a sweeter flavor! Congratulations on your well-deserved win!

  3. Pingback: I’m Back :) | What LaLa is Reading

  4. Amazing story…no wonder you won the contest!
    You would make such a magnificent vampire.MissRon.
    P.S. I agree with the theory of Adele’s death,never thought that Renè was responsible!

    • Thanks! I appreciate that. :-). Also pleased to have people still finding and reading my little offerings, even though it’s been ages since I last posted anything.

      Thanks for popping by!

Feel free to comment here!

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s