Malcolm Mclaren Imagines

Don't Worry About it

I parked the car in the little car park beside the apartment building, or well I parked the car, it was inside the lot. It may have had a tree in the bonnet but it's parked. Knowone is going to try and knick my mini. I headed into the building and up the variety flights of dirty cement stairs until I found the little black door with the silver 13 on it. So I knocked as per our agreement four times.

"Come in!" She calls so I pushed open the door and headed inside her apartment but something seemed... off.

I couldn't explain why but I had a feeling like something was off about her apartment today but I tried not to think much of it and just headed in.

There was a strange smell in the air that I couldn't explain. I looked and saw scratches on the wooden floor like nails being desperately dragged. I saw the laundry basket with towels and shirts covered in blood red with various slashes and holes. I looked to the bathroom and saw the bath and shower was covered in this blood red colour it splattered up the walls and tiles. Nervously I walked on seeing the coffee table covered with sharp pins and needles. And I saw the kitchen with a large cut of meat on the chopping board a butcher's cleaver still sat in it.

And there she stood.

In pointed black knee high boots, crooked fishnets, a tattered black skirt with various layers of different fabrics, one of the shirts from sex with a picture of breasts over her own and a little white apron tied around her with red blood splattered up it, another large knife in her hand

"I've been waiting for you Malcolm"

"...... Uhhhhh'

"You're late. You said you'd be over for dinner at five, it's six thirty Mr" she says

"I'm sorry. Don't hurt me"

"What on earth are you talking about?" She giggled

"Have you murdered someone?"

"What makes you think so?"

"Uhhhh I don't know. The clawmarks in your floor that make it look like you dragged a victim in here"

"Malcolm that's just Mr riddles you know he's a stupid cat who hates that damn flooring"

"Yeah. Understandable. What about the needles and shit that looks like you've been torturing people in your living room!"

"I was cleaning my pricings Malcolm I had to redo my scaffolding where I stopped wearing it so much"

"Oh. Okay yeah. They why does your laundry have cuts and slashes in it!"

"Uhhhh my general atheastic?"

"Yeah that's a good point" I nodded "the. Bloody towels and you'd fucking bathroom looks like a murder scene!"

"I redyed my hair"

"Ah. Yes. That would make sense. You did look more bright red then last o saw you"

"Thank you" she smiled blowing me a kiss and cutting more meat

"The blood on your apron is cooking isn't it?"

"Yes Malcolm"

"sorry. You can be kinda scary sometimes" I told her coming over to give her a kiss

"It's fine" she giggled "I didn't mean to spook you" she smiled "now breast or thigh?"

"Ummm I think you know the answer to that y/n" I smirked

"For dinner Malcolm!" She argued waving her knife playful at me

"Uhhh my answer stands still breast"

"Alright sweetheart" she smiled prepping for dinner so I went to get my jacket off

"Chicken is it?" I asked her but there was no answer "y/n. It is chicken right?' I asked looking at the meat she had on the cutting board which admittedly did not look like a chicken

"Don't worry about it" she smiled sweetly