That's Fucked Up

Lungs

The clock just hit 3am when Patrick suck out of his flat, passing Pete asleep on his couch. Pete was supposed to watch Patrick, to make sure he didn't get into any trouble.

"I'm sorry Pete." Pat said, quietly clicking the door into place.

He's at it again, and this time, one pair won't do. Patrick tries a house not far from a high school, knowing a weak teenager would be inside, fast asleep. He easily opens a window in the front, climbing though quickly ans swiftly. Swifter than Taylor Swift.

Inside, were these awful burgundy color walls and two similar looking teens. What Patrick didn't expect was for them to be awake. Alarmed by the stranger in their room, the shorter girl grabs a bat from under her pillow.

'Since when do teens have weapons?' Patrick thinks, underestimating how much resistance he would have. The other girl flips on the light next to her bed, and everyone can see clearly, and both girls freeze.

"OHMYGODOHMYGODOHMYGOD!" The girl with the bat said, her words rushed together.

"YOU'RE PATRICK STUMP!" The other sister finished.

Oh no, this is gonna make my job 10x harder. Time to put in the charm.

"Hey guys," Patrick smiles easy."You guys have won the contest!"

Both sisters know they didn't enter any contest, but when Patrick Stump is in your home, you don't question it.

"OHMYGOD I HAVE SO MANY QUESTIONS! FIRST OFF, YOU'RE AN AMAZING VOCALIST, HOW DO YOU SING LIKE THAT?" The girl has now dropped her bat, but Patrick is still on edge.

He needs to diffuse the situation. 'Think, think think' he chants to himself.

"Hey, could you guys cover your eyes so I me and the band, they're waiting outside, can put on a surprise mini concert?"

"Sure, anything else? Want me to get you something to drink? Somewhere to sit? Need a footstool, use Rahma." The taller girls said, gesturing to her sister.

"No thanks, I'm fine. Now cover your eyes, please." 'Quick and easy. Dumb girls.' Patrick thinks as he gets his blades out.

Regular blades would get too messy, too much of a hassel, so Patrick has little daggers special made for this process. He takes both of them and simultaneously runs them down the side of each girl, near their ribs. It would seem like a strenuous process, but it's actually pretty easy.

Slice, yank, store. Slice the person, yank their lungs out, and store them in his jacket pocket to be inserted later.

Now that's a long process. Both girls fall to the floor with a thud. Slice, yank, store. And Patrick does just that before he's off to the next house.

The next house, which is still in the vicinity of the high school (Patrick prefers younger lungs) has a back door, which is thankfully open.

'They're practically giving me their lungs.' He thinks as he slipped in, even swifter than last time. Swifter than a coarsing river.

Moving silently, he opened the first door he came to, which had a girl in it. 'This should be easy' If only she was the only one in the room.

Making his way over to the bed where the girl sleeps soundly, Patrick stepped on something.

"Fuck!" Make that someone.

"Kaiya?" The person on the floor asks, and the girl on the bed stirs.

Shit shit shit.

"Calvin? You okay?" She mumbled still half asleep.

"I told you, my parents won't care, you should sleep on the bed."

"No, I think there's someone in here." The boy, Calvin, said.

Shit, shit, SHIT.

Patrick panics, and he's not even at a disco. Without thinking, he stabbed Calvin in the eye.

"Agh, my fucking eye!" He shouted. 'No no no. I can't risk it, I gotta get out of here.'

So with that thought, Patrick makes a run for the door, then out the back, and he doesn't stop until he's back to his flat building, but waiting outside was Pete and...no... he wouldn't do that, would he? Standing next to Pete was an LAPD officer, holding handcuffs.

Patrick can safely assume they're not gonna be used for anything kinky either.

"'Trick.. you left me with no choice. When I woke up and you weren't there, I-I got so scared." Pete said, his voice trembling.

"Pete, you don't understand-"

"'Trick," Pete says sounding worn out. "you need help. This isn't healthy. I care about you, and I want the best for you, so please, please, just go with my friend here, and I'll make sure nothing happens to you. I promise."

With that much concern and care in his eyes, it's hard for Patrick to decline Pete.

"I trust you Pete." Was the last thing Patrick said to Pete before getting into the police car. 'I'm trusting you.' Patrick though the whole way down to the station.