Call Me | American Psycho Reader Insert

Chapter 27

"Officer down!" one of them barked into a radio, his voice tight with urgency. "We need backup immediately!"

The cops swarmed around him, a sea of blue and flashing lights. They looked at him with a mix of shock and disbelief, but the fear in his voice was too real to ignore. He pointed up at the penthouse, his hand shaking. "He's up there. He's got to be stopped!"

One of the officers took charge, his voice crackling through the radio. "All units, we have an active shooter in the building. Repeat, an active shooter in the penthouse. Proceed with caution."

The cops surged forward, weapons drawn, adrenaline pumping through their veins like a river of fire. They burst into the elevator, the doors closing with a finality that seemed to suck the air from the corridor.

Y/N watched them go, his heart racing, the thrill of the chase like a potent drug in his system. He knew he had mere moments to act, to slip away from the jaws of justice that were closing around him. He had planned for this, of course. Contingencies were his specialty.

With the ease of a man who had practiced the art of escape countless times, he slipped into one of the cop cars parked outside, the scent of fear and sweat lingering in the leather seats. The engine roared to life, the vibrations rumbling through his body as he threw the car into gear and sped away from the chaos he had left behind.

The rain had remained, a sheet of water that obscured the windshield and the world beyond. The wipers swiped back and forth in a frantic dance, but he barely noticed, his eyes fixed on the road ahead, his mind racing with the thrill of the chase. The sirens grew fainter, the lights of the cruisers fading into the distance like taillights on a dark highway to hell.

Y/N parked the stolen car a few blocks from Evelyn's apartment, the engine ticking as it cooled. He stepped out into the rain, the cold droplets a refreshing contrast to the heat of his fevered skin. The chainsaw, stolen from a nearby construction site, was heavy in his arms, the rumble of its idle a comforting purr.

The chainsaw roared to life as he approached her building, the sound a declaration of war against the quiet night. The rain sliced through the air like a million tiny knives, the droplets glinting in the light from the street lamps. The sleepy doorman looked up, his eyes widening in horror as he recognized the Wall Street executive turned monster.

"Mr. Bateman, what are you..." his words trailed off as Y/N revved the chainsaw, a feral smile playing on his lips. The doorman stumbled back, his hand reaching for the phone to alert the authorities, but it was too late. Y/N leaped forward, the blade biting into the wood of the door with a screech that drowned out the man's screams.

Splinters flew as he carved through the barrier, his eyes never leaving the prize: Evelyn's apartment. The door gave away with a final, resounding crack, the hinges groaning in protest. The hallway beyond laid open, a mouth ready to swallow him into the dark depths of his own making.

He stepped over the ruins of the entrance, the chainsaw still purring in his hands, his eyes scanning the walls for any sign of his prey. The lights flickered overhead, casting jagged shadows that danced across the floor like a twisted ballet of fate.

Evelyn's apartment door stood before him, a bastion of normalcy in the sea of chaos he had wrought. He took a deep breath, his heart pounding in his chest. The anticipation was almost unbearable.

He knew she was in there, waiting, her fear palpable even through the thick, reinforced wood. He could almost taste it, the sweetness of her terror mingling with the iron tang of the blood that still coated his mouth. He took a moment to appreciate the moment, the thrill of the hunt, before bringing the chainsaw to bear.

The scream of the engine grew louder, the teeth of the blade spinning in a hypnotic blur as he plunged it into the wood. The door splintered and cracked, the metal screaming in protest. He felt alive, invincible, as he tore through the last barrier between them.

And then he was in, the room a tableau of shock and horror. Evelyn cowered in the corner, her eyes wide with fear, her mouth moving in silent screams. The chainsaw's growl filled the small space, a cacophony that seemed to shake the very foundations of the building.

But she was not the helpless victim he had anticipated. With a speed that defied belief, she drew a pistol from beneath the bed, the gleaming metal a contrast to the softness of the sheets. Her hand trembled, but her aim was firm.

The first shot rang out like a thunderclap in the small room, the bullet embedding itself in the wall just beside Y/N's head. The second found its mark, tearing through his shoulder with a burst of searing pain. He stumbled back, the chainsaw slipping from his grasp, the blade gouging a deep furrow in the floor.

Evelyn's hand didn't waver, the pistol a steady extension of her outstretched arm. She squeezed the trigger again and again, her eyes never leaving his face, her expression a mask of cold, unwavering determination. The bullets tore through him, a symphony of pain that sent him reeling. He could feel the warmth of his own blood soaking through his shirt, a crimson blossom that grew with each passing second.

Y/N fell to his knees, looking up at Evelyn in shock. The rain of bullets had pierced the illusion of his invincibility, shattering it into a million bloody shards. He had underestimated her, had thought her too soft, too weak to fight back. But here she was, a Valkyrie in a silk negligée, raining judgment upon him with a weapon she had never wielded before.