Pyscho {Newtmas AU} (on hold)

Chapter 1

*bang* *crash*

Newt was on the run again, this time because he just killed his sister's ex boyfriend. He had no particular (good) reason to, but the feeling of his hand wrapped around the cold cold gun as his fingers danced over the trigger gave him an adrenaline rush.

He didn't exactly have a pattern as to who he kills, but usually it's someone that did something to him or his family. In this case, Newt's sister's ex boyfriend had cheated on her, and Newt was determined to set the record straight.

Newt was very protective over his family, and would stop at nothing to kill those who did them wrong. The way the life left the victims' eyes would always spark something inside Newt, and he craved killing even more. He believed what he did was fun, good, and exhilarating, but others would disagree. There's a word to describe people like Newt, people who kill or torture others because they consider it fun.

Psychopath.

The word gave Newt a tingly feeling in his stomach. He loved being called a psychopath, as if it was an excuse to allow him to continue his rampage.

He was now running to his next destination, and victim as one would say. The girl who his sister's now dead ex had cheated on her with. She lived not too far from where Newt is running now, and he would be there in a number of minutes. His breathing was growing ragged and uneven from his excitement and constant sprinting.

He could hear sirens in the distance coming from behind him, and he knew his little adventure would be cut short if he was caught, so he ducked into an alleyway, the darkness enveloping him so that he couldn't be seen. He was grateful for that.

He decided to walk along the dark tunnel, listening to water drip from cracks within the old and crumbling walls. Small puddles began to form as the water continued to drip.

*plop* *plop* *plop*

The sound was almost hypnotic for Newt, and his mind began to wander. He started thinking about the people he's killed, pictures of their pleading cries being cut short flew across his mind. Their faces becoming lifeless and pale as they crumpled to the ground. They were vivid and detailed, and Newt watched himself pull the trigger to end each person's life.

He let out a low chuckle as he remembered he was to do that again, experience those same feelings for what seemed to be the millionth time. However, this feeling never grew old, instead making him crave it more each time, as if it was drug he was addicted to.

He still had his gun tightly gripped in his hand, his knuckles almost white from the amount of pressure he was applying. He kept walking further into the alley, the darkness surrounding him on all sides.

Suddenly, he saw a shadow scurry in front him in a hurry. It was vague and fairly small, indicating that the figure was far away, but still very much there. Newt raised his gun and pointed it in the general direction of the shadow.

"Who's there?" he called, his voice calm yet stern. He wasn't afraid, he would be more than glad to shoot anything standing in front of him. No reply came, an the wind around him started to pick up, causing Newt's dusty blonde hair to whip against his face. He could barely see, and quickly tried to move his hair away from his face.

Footsteps shuffling towards him snapped him out of whatever he was doing, and he quickly raised his gun again, his finger hovering over the trigger. He called out again. "Who's. There." It was more of a command rather than a question, and the short boy was surprised to see a taller figure emerge from the shadows. His face was barely visible, but Newt could make out the silhouette of a boy, perhaps his age.

He noticed that the taller had brown hair as well, and his clothes were ragged and barely torn, almost as if he had been running for a while before tripping on the cobblestone of the alleyway. The boy would have been more intimidating to Newt if it weren't for the terrified expression on his face. The stranger before him had a gun, and could shoot him down at any second, of course he was scared. But that wasn't the only reason he was afraid.

Newt lowered the gun, his scowl wiped away and replaced with clearly visible smirk. "What's a pretty boy like you doing out here all alone?" Both boys were taken aback by Newt's sudden outburst, but the taller then spoke. "P-Parents f-fighting...I-I ran away." The boy was almost crying, his body trembling as he stuttered his reasoning.

Newt's curiosity peaked, and he wished to know more of the troubled boy's story, but the wailing sirens of the nearing police cars signaled to him that he had to leave. "What's your name, greenie?" Newt asked before he could stop himself. Greenie? He never calls anyone that except his family. It's his way of showing interest, which he guessed is the reason he called the boy that. He was interested in him greatly after hearing his trembling voice and choice of words.

"Thomas." the distraught boy replied, clearly unfazed by the name he was called previously. Newt nodded, and both boys heard the sound of doors slamming and voices mixing together. The cops had found him. Newt quickly pushed past Thomas and took off in a sprint down the dark and empty alleyway.

"Wait! What's your name?!" Thomas called out. The blonde skidded to a halt and turned around. With a smirk plastered on his face he replied, "Name's Newt, greenie." and sprinted out of sight.

Hey guys! I decided to restart on Newtmas writing and my friend helped come up with this one! I hope you guys like it and feedback is always appreciated! xoxo