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MIGHT DIE FOR YOU pt.2
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WARNING: BLOOD, VIOLENCE, GORE
Y/N'S POV
The smell of blood.
Warm, fresh blood.
You could almost feel it slicked your skin in a thin, hot film, clinging between your knuckles and under your nails.
Instead of disgust, the sensation thrummed in your veins like a second heartbeat, familiar, intoxicating, almost too intimate if you dare say.
You looked around, the street was already in chaos, cars skewed sideways, smoke curling from fractured hoods, the air buzzing with Mimzy’s stinkin’ creditors.
You and Alastor stepped into the open together, framed in the broken glow of a street lamp like a pair of actors hitting a stage cue.
The loan sharks paused, confused.
“…Who the hell are these two?” one muttered.
“Bellhops?” another guessed. “The chick’s dressed too nice for a fight.”
“Nah, the guy’s some kinda busker—look, he’s got a mic on his hand, and next to him, ehh...this chick..”
“Then she’s his backup dancer?”
You hear Alastor's microphone suddenly crackled as his grin widened into something sharp.
Chuckling he stated, “My, my… bellhops and dancers? How unimaginative and unobservant. Though…” his gaze slid over you, voice lowering to a dangerous purr, “I admit, you would make a breathtaking partner on a proper stage.”
You just flexed your claws and paused, turning to answer him with a cheeky grin, replying, “I shall graciously take that complement..”
You saw the thugs were even more confused and one just shrugged and simply stated, “Whatever. Just take ’em both.”
Alastor’s eyes met yours for the briefest heartbeat, your private cue.
You moved first.
And Alastor? He only kept leisurely walking forwards. Seeing that he didn't have any plans of defending himself, you immediately overtook him.
The first thug met you with a machete raised, spit flying, with a fierce—ugly face, to be honest. And you heard him spittle, “Gonna cut that pretty face of yours!”
You answered by angling aside, claws slipping between the fourth and fifth ribs on his left side. The sharpened tips tore through the intercostal muscles and nicked the left pulmonary vein, letting you slide upward into the ascending aorta. You felt the pulse stutter under your fingertips before his knees buckled.
“Oh-ho! Right into the thoracic cavity—piercing the aorta for that instant drop! You do have a taste for the classics, my dear.”
You stopped for a split second after hearing Alastor's signature radio commentary and had no choice but to crudely swipe your claws at another thug's face, instantly killing him.
YOU ARE READING
PSYCHOPATHIC || ALASTOR x FEM READER
FanfictionYou were pretty hopeless as you lay on the dark green grass, as you see your own blood probably pooling beneath your body.. Pretty much deserved all of this, since you just tried to mimic that one TV show character you were so onto about and got sec...
