Pitbabe the series [oneshot]

Make You Mine (Pete x Way)Part 2

Pete: "Why won't he wake up, hmm? He must be having a good sleep. He looks pretty like this."

Suddenly, Way began to stir, his eyes hurting from the bright lights overhead. As he opened his eyes, he noticed his hand was neatly bandaged and covered. Seeing Pete near him, Way scooted back, his face sweating and his hands clammy. He wiped his forehead, which was slick with perspiration.

Pete: "Why so scared, huh? I'm not gonna eat you, am I?" Pete said, wiping the same knife he had used to carve into Way's hand.

Way: "Why are you hurting me if you like me?"

Pete's face twisted, a strange look of worry crossing it as he raised an eyebrow. "How did I hurt you? I just showed you how much I love you. How can you say I'm hurting you? Do you even know what real hurt is, huh?"

Way: "I'd rather be in hell than be here with you."

Pete's eyes darkened at the words. "Really? Hell? What if I make this place hell? Would you stay here then?" He rushed towards Way, his hands grabbing Way's hair and pulling it off his face. Way tried to pull away, his face contorted in disgust at Pete's touch.

Pete: "You see, Way, love is pain. If you don't understand that now, you will soon enough." His voice was a chilling mix of sweetness and menace,

Way: "Get away from me," he muttered, trying to pull free from Pete's grasp, his body trembling with fear and revulsion.

Pete leaned in closer, his breath hot on Way's face. "You can try to run, but you'll never escape me. I'll make sure of that."

Way: "I don't like it here, Pete. Please, leave me where I was. I don't want to be here."

Pete: "You mean you don't want to be here with me, do you? But why, Way? Look, I bought you food, I covered your hand carefully, I even opened the lights for you. Can't you see how much I love you?"

Way's eyes filled with tears, his voice trembling as he replied. "This isn't love, Pete. Love isn't about control and pain. I'm scared of you. Please, just let me go."

Pete's expression shifted from confusion to frustration. He moved closer, his presence intimidating. "You don't understand, Way. Everything I do is for you. To show you how much you mean to me."

Way tried to scoot back further, his fear palpable. "But you're hurting me. If you really loved me, you'd let me go."

Pete stared at Way for a long moment, the conflict evident in his eyes. He wanted to believe that what he was doing was right, that his love for Way was genuine. 

Suddenly, Pete's face softened, but his grip on the knife didn't waver.With that, Pete stood up and walked out of the room, leaving Way alone. The door clicked shut behind him,

As Pete clicked the door shut, Way sat down on the bed, his body language shifting. He massaged his shoulders, cracking his knuckles and neck, feeling a newfound resolve wash over him.

Way: "He thinks he's a menace, doesn't he?" he muttered, looking at his injured hand. He unwrapped it, examining the partially healed wound. Spotting a glass bottle filled with alchohal on a nearby table, he grabbed it, unscrewing the cap with his mouth and spitting it onto the floor. He poured the contents onto his injured hand, the pain searing through his body. He hissed a little before wrapping his hand again with the same bandage.

Way: "What is he thinking? Sigh... It's a pity I like this guy, or else I wouldn't play the innocent."

Way's demeanor changed entirely as he allowed himself to drop the façade of vulnerability. He stood up, shaking off the remnants of his previous fear and frustration. He had to find a way out of this, and playing along was his only option for now.

Way: "Okay, Pete," he whispered to himself. "Let's see how much you really love me."

He knew he had to be careful, to play the part of the obedient captive while plotting his escape. As his eyes landed on the alcohol bottle in his hand, a sinister smile spread across his face.

Way: "Should I just shove this into him? He would die without a sound," he mused aloud, his voice dripping with malice. "Or should I smash it on his head? It would cause temporary damage but there would be a lot of pain. Hmm... or should I smash it on his face and rearrange his features? That would be funny."

He let out a chilling laugh, a sound that echoed eerily in the small room. "I mean, I should pay him back for being an ass to me and carving his sick love into my skin."

With a final, twisted smile, he set the bottle down carefully, hiding it within easy reach. He lay back on the bed, closing his eyes but remaining alert, his mind filled with dark thoughts 

Way lay back on the bed, staring up at the bare fan spinning slowly overhead. He bit his lip, a mixture of conflicting emotions churning inside him. "Even though he's a psycho," he whispered to himself, "why is he so sexy?" His thoughts twisted as he imagined Pete's strong, imposing figure.

Way: "I really, really want to be deeply fucked by him," he murmured, rolling his lips as the thought of Pete's body invaded his mind. "He has a nice body... really strong as well."

He sighed deeply, a mix of frustration and desire clouding his judgment. "Should I really give up on a psycho like you? Mom was right... she raised a devil indeed."

A sinister and almost lustful smile spread across his face

Way: "Hahaha," his laugh echoed in the room, dark and menacing. "You have no idea what you're dealing with, Pete. Your time will come."

One Year Ago

2 September 2023

Reports emerged of two brutal murders that had shaken the community. The victims were found decapitated, their heads severed with a precision that pointed to a sharp, specialized knife. This brought the count of the suspected serial killer's victims to more than six. Each crime scene bore a chilling message left by the murderer: "If you can find me, I give up killing."

Despite an intensive eight-year investigation, authorities remained baffled. The killer's meticulous methods left no traceable evidence, and the messages taunted law enforcement with their inability to catch him. The Chief of Mutual Investigation had reached out to numerous ace investigators, yet the case remained cold.

Adding to the horror, one of the victims was identified as the killer's stepmother. This personal connection suggested a deeply disturbed individual, further complicating the investigation. The community lived in fear, knowing a ruthless killer was still at large, eluding capture