A Book Of My OC's

- To catch a predator -

My favorite ICP song 🤭🤭🤭
Also, Mega Trigger warning: This chapter is straight up gore and torture. Mentions of S/A! If this triggers you in anyway please do not read this. Your mental health is important!

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The cold wind blows as it rains down on the gloomy town of Bellmoral. Rain was typical here and it was a soothing thing to fall asleep to late at night.

The blond haired teenager found himself staring out the window of his gigantic bedroom. If he weren't so busy he'd most likely be running around in the rain.

He had other plans for the night. Such great plans indeed.

The newly turned 17 year old teen turns to his bedroom door and sighs. His mind wanders around to the darkest place of his already messed up and troubled mind. As if he were looking into doors of his own thoughts, his mind wanders to the opinion that he held true to himself.

The disgrace was the dirty and filthy pedophiles of the world.

The thought made Bamshee hurl. How filthy and disgusting and gross all of them were. Nothing could ever have them atone for the damage they caused. Not a single thing.

Bamshee wandered out of his room, heading down the stairs as he say his entire family sitting at the dinner table, all ready to eat.

"Bamshee! There you are, ready to eat?"

His mother asks, a gentle smile on her face. His older brother Butterscotch gave him a wave and a lazy smile and was clearly already eating when he was told to wait for the others to begin eating. The crumbs that were on his shirt were evidently clear.

Bamshee gives a soft smile, shaking his head slightly.

"No, no, I need to give a special someone his gift." He states, walking to the fridge and grabbing something that was wrapped in tinfoil. He walks on over to the stairs that led downstairs with a cheerful grin, humming a tune of his favorite song.

He lays his expressionless and dull brown eyes on the basement door that was currently shut. Preparing himself for the joy to come, Bamshee opened the door and walked in, shutting it behind him.

"I brought you a gift!" The blond singsongs as he walks down the steps. As he reached the cement floor of the basement, his smile didn't falter once as he looked at the special someone in the basement.

The man's eyes and face were devoid of any emotion. The dullness was evident in his eyes. His clothes were stained and tainted in dried up blood and his cheekbones were visible now. His right hand was wrapped in poorly bandaged bandages and evidently the fingers of that hand were just gone.

He stares up at the teen in front of him and let's out a mumble;

"Have you come to kill me?"

Bamshee shakes his head, sitting down in front of the man.

"Not yet of course!" The blond replied, dropping the tinfoil on the ground and placing it in front of the man.

He looks at it before looking back up at the teen.

"Eat up, starvation is quite painful, ya know." Bamshee says with a smile.

The man doesn't respond but slowly unfolds the tinfoil wrapped surprise. As it's unfolded entirely, the man's expression drops in terror, looking at the gorey sight in front of him. The sight was so much that he leaned to his side and retched, throwing up.

"Bon appetite." The blond chuckles as his grin widens at the sight.

"You're sick! What is wrong with you!?" The mans yells out, not daring to look down at the tinfoil.

Bamshee lets out a laugh, pretending to wipe the 'tears' from his eyes.

"Me? Sick? Jeez, you must be blind!" Bamshee laughed more.

"You're insane!"

"I'm the insane one? Oh please, who do you think you are, huh!?" Bamshee shouts. Without hesitation, the man yelped out for help.

But his family did nothing about it.

Bamshee smiled as he got up from the floor, brushing the dust off himself.

Seeing his chance, the man got up and stumbled to the stairs, breathing heavily as he almost reached the top of the stairs to the unlocked door.

Unaware and only paying attention to the door, he failed to notice that Bamshee was creeping up behind him, as silent as a mouse.

Bending down, Bamshee wrapped his hands around the mans ankle, dragging him down back the cement floor.

The man lets out a cry, wincing at that pain that ran through his already bruised body.

"How old is your son?" Bamshee asked as he sat down on the stairs.

"He's...only three..." the man huffs but replies with wheezes.

"Do you know what you did to him?"

"PLEASE JUST LET ME GO! I'll give you money, anything! Just let me go!"

Ah, the desperation had finally set it...

"How....predictable..."

"You filthy humans are just so predictable and so stupid." Bamshee states.

"Money? Really?" Bamshee scoffed and looked at the man.

"I have a little sister...She's finally 10 years old, when she was just a little infant..."

"Some lowly disgusting man put his hands on her, she nearly died.."

"I had a friend in my freshman year, she killed herself because she couldn't handle the trauma of what happened to her when she was young.."

"W-Why are you telling me this.." The man sobbed.

"The justice system is damned in this town, you only got a year of house arrest for the rape of your son..." Bamshee trailed on, reaching his hands on the metal baseball bat that hid in the dark.

"What I'm doing to you would make the devil sick to his stomach, but I don't care not a single bit. This is what you deserve, afterall..." He gripped his hands on the metal bat.

He stood up and with the baseball bat gripped tightly in both hands. He took a deep breath and began...

How easy pedophiles were to convince...
Pretending to younger was so easy for Bamshee.

It wouldn't be long before he did it again.

- Chapter End -