Billy Pilgrim Novels & Stories

I quickly wore my singlet and a baggy shorts and we took off straight to Block A, the place was quite crowdy, almost every room had a PSP game station, Zombie and I entered a particular room, the room was stuffy with the smell of shisha and smoke, they smoked while playing games, the owner of the Room and the game came and shaked Zombie, His name was Billy,. Billy was like the radio transmittor of the school, he knows every information in this school about anyone or anything, and people pay him just to get to know something, If you're looking for infor about people, he's the guy to look for or consult. He was jovial and a funny guy and so carefree, After he and zombie exchanged pleasantries,

“Yeah, Stephanie got in pretty late.” “Could you tell us what time it was, exactly?” Caleb asked. “Um…about midnight, I think,” he told them. “She’s not in any trouble, is she? I know Stephanie. She wouldn’t hurt anybody.” “She’s not,” Emma assured him. She pulled out a picture of James. “Have you ever seen this man?” Billy’s face went pale, but he shook his head, quickly. “No. I haven’t.” “You sound awfully sure.” Caleb watched him. People never gave such certain replies that quickly unless they were hiding something. “Maybe you should take another look.”

Instead, he ran toward me, holding Gracie tightly. “Billy?” Anna frowned. “What are you doing?” Billy burst into tears right then and there. His arms trembled so badly I thought he might drop Gracie. I rushed forward, took Gracie into my arms, and wrapped one arm around him as he cried. “I—I don’t want to eat cold pancakes anymore!” he sobbed. “They’re hard and my stomach always hurts after.” He sniffed loudly. “Mom bought food today. I drank juice and it was really good. Please, Anna. Please. Let’s just eat Mom’s food.”

A month passed Billy returned to Korea with his son Nathan or Owen, yes he didn't know who Owen was, he knew his son was named Nathan and that's how he called him. It's been two weeks since he returned to Korea and met Lea, it made Lea sick of what Billy did. He took his son there for no apparent reason and Lea just gave Billy and his son a sinister look. "Lea, make my son some milk," Billy shouted from inside his room, and that annoyed Lea even more. Billy never looked after herself and the baby again after going to Paris and coming back with the damn baby.

Billy wished he could say something to the old man, but knew by reverting he would interrupt the regeneration of his missing hand. “Nothing needs to be said, boy,” Henry stated as if reading his mind. “Just run away and stay low. If you have any old friends you can trust, now is the time to call on them.” Billy stared at Henry a moment longer. Then he turned and ran through the cornstalks, disappearing into the woods on the far side of the field. It was here that he’d stashed his clothes before the attack. He gathered them in his remaining hand and moved down the trail.

The swoosh of the tent door draws my attention from my pacing, and I look up to see Billy. He stands in front of me, looking wide-eyed and ready to burst into laughter. Billy takes a step forward with the tray of dinner for Maggie and me. Without a word; he puts it down and turns to walk away. Then he spins around and opens his mouth to say something while I wait anxiously. He thinks better and snaps his mouth shut and makes for the tent flap. “Wait!” I call out to him, regretting it when he turns slowly, looking triumphant. “Yes, milord?” He says, failing to hide the laughter in his voice.

That’s what Damien called me—Little Thunder—because the day a tree branch fell near me , I didn’t scream; I just pushed it away and told him it missed. Billy rolled his eyes and reached out his hand. “Come on, let me show you before my parents get back and notice I’m gone,” he mouthed carefully. Aunt Martha and Uncle Killian were his parents. Uncle Killian was big and scary, the kind of man whose footsteps made the floor shake a little. He was a pack warrior—one of the strongest. I wouldn’t want Billy to get in trouble with him either. Aunt Martha, though… She was different. Her house always smelled like bread and cinnamon, and she called everyone “sweetpea,” even the grumpy guards. She had

I tried to break the silence. Everyone looked at me. Okay, I'll cut to the chase. “Actually, my name is Billy, and I'm a Beta.” "Sorry, I didn't hear that clear... could you... ?" Madelyn's parents reacted for a moment, as if in disbelief. His father hesitated: "You mean, you're the beta from the Black Valley Pack? Charles's beta Billy? In my memory, I've only heard of one B**e named Billy." "Yes, I am."

“I swear I’m not usually this dangerous. I just—my mind—sorry.” He chuckled, brushing off his pants. “I believe you. You look… distracted.” Then he squinted a little. “Are you okay? You look paler than last time.” I forced a smile, gripping the trolley so tightly my knuckles went white. “Just… a lot on my mind.” He nodded slowly, like he understood things he shouldn’t. “I’m Billy,” he said, extending a hand. “Since the universe clearly wants us to collide, maybe we should actually introduce ourselves.”

I ask. Billy smiles as he walks to a lamppost and looks around. I walk toward him, and he runs his fingers over the metal. I gasp as the whole pole twists and reveals a lit staircase, “This is the entrance?” I gape, looking at the magical hole that appeared.