Save a Cow, Milk the Milkman

Do You Think You'd Kill For Me One Day?

(This chapter contains graphic descriptions of violence)

Francis walked down the stairs, his arms and back aching from hours of hauling crates. The one highlight of his day, seeing Y/n, was close by.

He looked forward to seeing them and their adorable smile. His childlike happiness was quickly replaced with pure fury when he saw one of the janitors taking to Y/n.

The name tag read "Kyle", what a horrid name for a horrid man. He had his hand in Y/n's soft locks. Francis cleared his throat loudly, getting both of their attention.

"Oh, Francis!" Y/n smiled and wormed their way out of Kyle's rancid grip and went to shake Francis' hand.

Y/n gasped as Francis pulled them into a tight, warm hug. He'd never even smiled at them, let alone embraced them!

Francis felt that he needed to cleanse their body of the other man's touch. They felt freezing to the touch.

"You're awfully friendly today!" Crimson was spread over their cheeks. Any person would blush if a hot guy hugged them.

"You're welcome." Francis finally released her after one last squeeze.

"Oh my gosh, Francis!" Y/n was fully getting flustered now, much to the annoyance of Kyle. He rolled his eyes, which were red and irritated.

Little did he know, storming out in a whiny huff would be the worst mistake of his life... and the last.

●●●●●

Kyle fiddled with the cigarette in his mouth but nearly dropped it when a voice called out from behind him.

"Hello there." He turned to find the creepy milkman that's been visiting every week. Those dead eyes and fucked up nose always freaked him out.

"Um... hey? What do you want, weirdo?" Kyle tossed his cigarette to Francis' feet and crushed it under his foot.

"You're awfully close to Y/n."

"Okay, and?" Kyle got defensive and shrugged his shoulders. " They're hot-" Kyle's sentence was interrupted by two strong hands wrapping around his throat. Francis slammed his head against the roof of the dumpster before shoving him to the ground.

"Shut up, you don't deserve them. They're perfect and their name shouldn't ever come out of your wretched mouth!" Kyle's nails dug into Francis' hands, desperate to get him off.

Kyle spotted a metal clipboard and managed to grab it. He smacked it over Francis' head, getting Francis to release him.

"Fuck!" Francis clutched his head, blood dripped down his forehead.

"HELP ME!" Now that the pressure was off his throat, Kyle tried to scream and scramble away. Francis grabbed Kyle's disguarded cigarette, which was covered in grime from the floor of the alley, and shoved it into his mouth.

"Shut up!" Francis whisper-yelled, pining Kyle on his stomach and to the ground. Kyle coughed and gagged, street slime, ash, and dirt filled his mouth.

Francis reached into the dumpster and grabbed an old, discarded charger. He wrapped it around Kyle's throat and squeezed.

Francis was determined to kill him by strangulation. Not only was it quiet, but it was slow, painful. Kyle was crying now, snot dribbled out of his nose.

The pressure around his neck was terrifying. He didn't want to die, he had so many regrets. Not asking Y/n out, not going to college, smoking all that weed.

As he tasted his own blood and spat it up as everything went black...

"What did I tell you? Shut your mouth!"