Well AltoPentaholic requested I do a one-shot showing how Scott tried to kill Mitch last chapter so here it is
enjoy :)
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TRIGGER WARNING
Scott smiled, wrapping his arms around the smaller boy and gently kissing his neck. Mitch laughed, gently tugging away and turning around to see a red-eyed Scott. He laughed slightly, slowly backing away. "S-Scott? Why are your e-eyes red? C-color contacts?" he stuttered nervously, laughing weakly. Scott started to advance, his muscles tensing and his eyes darkening. Mitch backed up more, tripping over his cat and falling to the floor. Scott stopped, stared at him for a second, before making a noise like a growl and turning and leaving.
Mitch looked around, confused and scared and worried. Why was Scott acting like that? How did he go from loving boyfriend to red-eyed demon so quickly? And why did he stop?
Mitch eventually reached out and wrapped his fingers on his phone, deciding to call Kirstie. Maybe she'll know what to do. He dialed her number and held it to his ear.
"Hello?"
"Kit, help."
"Mitchie? What's wrong?"
"It's Scott, he's acting weird —" Mitch cut off with a squeak; Scott had re-entered the room, and he was holding a knife.
"Mitch?"
Mitch hurried to start speaking again, still backing away and his eyes focused on the knife. "He's got a knife, Kir, I think he's going to kill me —"
"What?"
"Call the police, Kirst —" And the line went dead.
Kirstie, from her home, panicked. As outrageous and unbelievable the story sounded, she couldn't help but be worried. Mitch had sounded terrified, and it cut off abruptly. She hurriedly called the police and told them Mitch's address, hoping she wasn't too late.
Meanwhile, Scott knocked the phone from Mitch's hands, stomping on it. Mitch squeaked, cursing internally when his back hit the wall. Scott turned back to Mitch, a low growl erupting from his throat. "Why did you call her?" he snarled, but his voice wasn't Scott's. It was deeper, more menacing, and it sent chills down Mitch's spine. "I- I-" Mitch stammered, his heart thumping loudly in his ears. Scott growled again, his grip on his knife tightening. He stalked towards Mitch and roughly grabs him by his hair, pulling him to his chest and holding the knife to his throat. Mitch's eyes watered from the pain in his head and he tried to swallow, the cool blade of the knife digging into his skin.
Scott pressed harder, and small droplets of blood gathered on the blade. Mitch winced, his throat erupting in pain, and he knew that that was it. He was going to be known as Mitch Grassi, the singer from Pentatonix that was killed by his best friend. What a stupid legacy.
Just as the knife was pressing harder still and Mitch was losing consciousness, the door flew open, and there stood Kirstie, with an army of police officers behind her. Her eyes widened as she saw the scene, and the police officers quickly rushed in and took Mitch away from the arms that were once loving and kind but were then dangerous and deadly. They took the knife from Scott and handcuffed his wrists together, but Scott's eyes were fading back to their normal color and he looked desperately confused. Before he could yell for help, he was taken away.
Kirstie rushed to Mitch's side, worry and confusion in her eyes. "Are you okay?" she asked, but Mitch simply collapsed in her arms, his breathing ragged and his eyes filled with tears.
"He tried to kill me, Kirst."
