Call Me | American Psycho Reader Insert

Chapter 3

The next morning, Y/N woke up early, the first rays of sunlight cutting through the blinds and piercing his eyes. He slipped out of bed, careful not to wake Evelyn, and dressed in his usual meticulous fashion. He headed to the gym, his mind racing with the previous night's events. The repetitive motions of his workout usually brought him a sense of calm, but today, they only served to fuel his obsession with the task at hand.

After his workout, he went through his morning routine with precision, the scent of his designer cologne a stark contrast to the sweat and blood of his nocturnal fantasies. He couldn't shake the feeling that he'd missed his chance, that he'd allowed his emotions to get the better of him. But as he studied his reflection in the bathroom mirror, the gleaming blade of his straight razor glinting in the light, he knew there would be more opportunities.

At the office, Y/N's eyes searched for Paul, his heart pounding in his chest. The sight of him, sipping his coffee and scrolling through his emails, was almost more than he could bear. He forced a smile and nodded a curt greeting, the weight of his secret heavy between them. The tension was palpable, a silent acknowledgment of the power dynamics at play.

The day dragged on, a tedious blur of numbers and spreadsheets. Each time Y/N glanced at Paul, he imagined the look of terror that would soon replace the smug smirk. The anticipation grew stronger, his thoughts consumed by the various scenarios that could play out. He knew he had to be patient, to wait for the perfect moment.

Finally, it was time to leave the office. Y/N gathered his things, his eyes lingering on the stainless steel letter opener on his desk. It was a mundane object, but in the right hands, it could be a weapon of unspeakable horror. He slipped it into his pocket, the cool metal a comforting presence against his thigh.

The elevator ride down was a silent battle of wills, the air thick with unspoken tension. Y/N knew he had to be careful, not to give anything away. He couldn't let his guard down, not even for a second. The doors opened, and they stepped into the lobby, the echo of their footsteps the only sound in the vast, marble expanse.

Paul looked at him, a hint of curiosity in his eyes. "You okay, man?" he asked, sipping his coffee.

Y/N forced a smile, his hand tightening around the letter opener in his pocket. "Just tired," he replied, his voice smooth as silk. "Long night."

Paul chuckled, oblivious to the impending danger. "Yeah, me too. Evelyn had me out at some charity thing." He rolled his eyes, and Y/N felt a flicker of annoyance. How dare he speak her name so casually?

"I'll see you tomorrow," Y/N said, his tone cold.

Paul nodded, a hint of confusion flitting across his face. "Yeah, see ya."

Y/N watched as he walked away, the letter opener in his pocket a silent promise of what was to come. The lobby was bustling with people, the sound of their shoes against the marble a cacophony of ambition and greed. He took a deep breath, his heart racing with excitement. The game was on.

He waited until Paul was out of sight before making his move. He knew the alleyways around the office like the back of his hand, the perfect place for a little "accident." He stepped out into the night, the cool air a stark contrast to the stifling heat of the day. The rain had stopped, leaving the city gleaming with the promise of a new start. Or a new end.

The streets were relatively empty, the city that never sleeps taking a moment to catch its breath. The neon lights reflected off the puddles, casting a kaleidoscope of colors across the pavement. Y/N took a deep breath, savoring the moment before the hunt. He slipped into the shadows, the letter opener a comforting weight in his pocket.

As he approached the alley, he heard the unmistakable sound of a man's laughter echoing off the wet brick walls. It was a laugh he knew all too well, the same laugh that had grated on his nerves for years. The rage boiled up inside him again, but this time, he didn't fight it. He embraced it, letting it fuel his actions.

He turned the corner, the letter opener in hand, and there was Paul, leaning against a dumpster, talking on his phone. He looked so...ordinary, so unsuspecting. Y/N felt a thrill of excitement as he moved closer, his heart racing with the thrill of the impending confrontation.

Paul looked up, surprise flitting across his face as he saw Y/N approaching. He quickly ended his call, straightening up. "Hey, what's up?" he asked, his voice a little too casual.

Y/N's smile was cold, his eyes dead. "Just wanted to talk," he said, his voice low and measured. "You know, about the dress code."

Paul's eyes narrowed. "Yeah, I know. I'll keep it in mind."

Y/N took another step closer, the letter opener now visible in his hand. "I don't think you do," he said, his voice a cold whisper. "I think you enjoy flaunting the rules, making a mockery of the system we all live by."

Paul's expression shifted from confusion to fear as he took in the weapon. His eyes darted around the alley, searching for an escape. But there was none. "Look, man, I didn't mean to piss you off. It was just a shirt."

Y/N's smile grew colder. "It's not just about the shirt, Paul. It's about respect. It's about understanding that there's a pecking order here, and you're not at the top."

Paul's eyes widened, his hands slowly rising in a feeble attempt to placate the madness in front of him. "Okay, okay. I get it. I'm sorry."

Y/N's smile didn't waver. "Sorry isn't good enough," he said, taking another step closer. "You need to learn a lesson."

Paul's back was against the wall now, his breath coming in quick, shallow gasps. "What do you want from me?"

"I want you to understand the consequences of your actions," Y/N murmured, raising the letter opener. "I want you to feel what it's like to be at the mercy of someone who doesn't care about your excuses."

The fear in Paul's eyes was a delicious sight, a reminder of the power that Y/N held. He knew that in this moment, he could do anything, say anything, and Paul would believe him. The thrill of it all was intoxicating, a rush of adrenaline that made him feel alive.

With a swift, precise movement, Y/N brought the letter opener down, slicing through the fabric of Paul's shirt. Paul yelped, his eyes widening with shock and pain as the cold steel bit into his flesh. Y/N felt a sense of satisfaction, a primal thrill at the sight of blood welling up from the shallow wound.

"You see, Paul," he said, his voice calm and measured. "This is what happens when you don't play by the rules." He twisted the letter opener, the sound of fabric tearing sending a shiver down Paul's spine. "This is just the beginning."

Paul's eyes searched for a way out, his mind racing with thoughts of survival. But Y/N was faster, more determined. He grabbed Paul by the collar, pinning him against the dumpster. The stench of garbage mingled with the scent of fear, a potent cocktail that only served to heighten Y/N's excitement.

"You're pathetic," Y/N spat, his grip tightening. "You think you can just waltz in here, flaunting your Hawaiian shirt and think you're above it all?" He brought the letter opener to Paul's throat, the tip pressing lightly against the skin. "You're nothing, do you understand?"

Paul's voice was shaky, his eyes pleading. "I-I understand," he stammered. "Please, don't do this."

Y/N leaned in, his breath hot against Paul's ear. "But I'm going to," he whispered, his voice a low growl. "Because that's what people like you do. You push until you're pushed back."

He took a step back, releasing his grip slightly. Paul's eyes darted to the side, searching for an escape. But Y/N was ready for this. He slammed him back against the dumpster, the letter opener now pressing harder against his throat. "Look at me," he snarled. "Look into the eyes of the man who's going to make you pay."

Paul's eyes met his, the fear in them a stark contrast to the cold determination in Y/N's gaze. He knew he had him now, knew that the power had shifted irrevocably. He brought the letter opener closer, the tip now drawing a thin line of blood. "This is your last chance," he said, his voice a harsh whisper. "Learn your place, or I'll show you what real fear is."

Paul's eyes grew wide, his mouth opening to form a silent plea. But before he could utter a word, the sound of footsteps echoed through the alley, the sharp clack of high heels on the wet pavement. Y/N's head snapped up, his heart racing. He hadn't anticipated company. He glanced around, searching for a way out, but the alley was a dead end.