Psychotic (boyxboy)

Chapter Twelve

Scott was unnaturally silent, Mitch noticed. 

Mitch would walk by the door every so often, listening for any sign of movement. At first, he heard quiet hiccups of well-contained sobs, but after an hour of that, the blond man had fallen silent. Mitch wasn't worried; well, he thought he wasn't worried. He had even moved the bookcase away from the door and unlocked it, curious to see if Scott was going to run out.

Nothing happened. 

Mitch pursed his lips and placed a hand on his hip, glaring at the door. He didn't even do anything bad! His hand snaked up into his hair and he grabbed a fistful of violet locks, rolling his eyes. With a sigh, he sauntered up to the door and threw it open. "Scott."

His eyes fell on the lump in the corner and he made a face. "Ugh, you better not be dead," He sighed as he took in the shards of glass. "I want to be the one to kill you." Mitch stepped carefully (his feet were bare), and nudged Scott's shoulder with his foot. 

Scott whimpered quietly and Mitch frowned. What was wrong with him? Did he break him? That was rather fast. He sighed loudly and kicked Scott in the side. "Wakey wakey." He cooed and crouched down beside him, trying to observe his face in the poor lighting. He raised an eyebrow, taking in the dried tear stains running down Scott's cheeks. 

The man met his eyes and whimpered again. Mitch rolled his eyes. "Get up, He grunted, digging a finger into his cheek. Scott flinched away and Mitch sighed loudly. "God, you're such a baby," He complained, "I didn't even do anything to you." 

Scott just shook his head. "Why would you do that?"

"Do what? Make you give me a blowjob? Newsflash, sweetie, those are a part of life." Mitch scoffed, hooking his hand around Scott's forearm and tugging him into a sitting position. 

"B-but, you forced me to..." 

"So? People are forced to do a lot of things, you aren't special." Mitch smiled a smile full of teeth and placed a hand on his hip. "Now, why the fuck are you so quiet?" He demanded to know.

Scott flinched again and Mitch made a loud noise of complaint. He was acting like a kicked puppy, disgusting. "I-I just didn't feel like doing much," he whispered meekly. "No energy for it."

"Well, suck it up, buttercup. We're going out." Mitch smirked slightly. "Can't have you never leaving the house look too suspicious." Scott's eyes snapped up to Mitch's and he gaped in surprise. He's leaving the house? What?

"What?" Apparently he spoke aloud. 

Mitch squinted at him and snorted. "Did I hit your head too hard? We're going out. Duh." He rolled his eyes and examined his nails. "You really smell, so go take a shower." With one last look of distaste, Mitch, turned on his heel and left the room, slamming the door behind him.

Scott stared at the space Mitch just occupied, his mind flying as he tried to process what just happened. Were they really going outside? Around people? He laughed slightly and ran his fingers through his hair. This was it. This was his chance to get away from the psychopath. 

Slowly, he climbed to his feet and went to grab the things he needed to get clean. He shuddered as his mind forced him to relive the earlier events and he hesitated, shifting anxiously. With a final breath, he opened the door, stepped out into the hall, and shuffled briskly towards the bathroom. As soon as he reached the tiny space, he closed the door and locked it, his heart thumping hard in his chest as he stared at the knob. 

Take that.

Scott wiggled slightly, feeling proud over the small victory of being able to lock the door. He hovered by the door for a few moments, waiting to see if Mitch would try to break in and sighed shakily. He was safe. 

For now.

Mitch listened to the shower run with a small smirk. The tall blond really thought that a locked door would keep him out? He scoffed, feeling offended and sympathetic. His Scottie really was an idiot. 

He decided not to go into the bathroom, not wanting to deal with a dead body when Scott slipped and broke his neck from fright. He snorted, fantasizing about the way Scott's body would fall, broken and lifeless. Beautiful. He moaned under his breath and allowed his head to drop back against the wall. He really needed to get laid. 

Soon after, Mitch heard the water shut off and he smirked, tilting his head as he listened to Scott's heavy footsteps sound down the hall. He pushed away from the wall and started walking to the bedroom. He managed to get there before Scott, so he sat on the bed, folding his legs daintily and smiling mockingly towards the door. 

Scott entered the room, his eyes focused on his feet. He glanced up and jumped backwards, his hand flying to his chest. "Fuck!" He hissed, his hand clutching the towel around his waist. He eyed Mitch warily, and Mitch chuckled as his eyes darted back in the direction of the bathroom. 

"Don't even think about it. Get dressed." Mitch nodded towards the closet and leaned back against the headboard, shifting until it was comfortable. He squinted at Scott, refusing to close his eyes. Scott continued to stand there, biting his lip. "Get. Dressed." He hissed. The barbed words sent Scott into a flurry of emotion and he rushed to the closet.

Mitch rolled his eyes as Scott stepped in and closed the door. "Nothing I haven't seen before." He called out tauntingly, allowing one eye to shut. He hummed, his body twitching from pent up energy. He hasn't done anything in so long. What was it? Twelve hours? He grunted and sat up, glaring at the door. He didn't want to have to kill Scott, he really like him, but he was so bored. 

So what could he do? Mitch tilted his head, going through the options in his mind. 

A game sounded nice. He giggled and slipped off the bed. Now, he just had to figure out how to get Scottie to play. His thoughts flashed to the young couple that came earlier and he smiled slightly. 

Perfect. 

Just as Scott tugged on the last piece of clothing, Mitch ripped the closet door open, grinning maliciously. "We're going to play a game outside, how does that sound?" He ran a finger down Scott's chest and Scott shuddered in revulsion. With a small shrug, he stepped back and looked at his feet. 

"Sounds fine." The tall man breathed. 

Mitch purred and hooked his finger under Scott's collar. "Perfect. If you win, you get a treat. If I win, I get a treat." He murmured, his nose tickling the bottom of Scott's jaw. The serial killer moaned at the delicious feeling of the stubble against his skin. Scott was never going to be allowed to shave, not while Mitch was around. 

Scott flamed in humiliation, trying to take a step back. Mitch simply tugged him forward and out of the closet. (a/n: LMAO)

"Now, I won't put you on a leash, because that's suspicious." Why, he wouldn't know. Mitch scanned the room for his sunglasses and smirked, reaching down to pluck them off the ground. "But, if you run, or decide to call for 'help'," he rolled his eyes, "I will hunt down that pretty little couple that came here... what were their names, Kristy and Jerome?" Mitch knew what their names were, but Scott's reactions were always hilarious. 

"It's Kirstie and Jeremy." Scott corrected shyly. Mitch narrowed his eyes and put on the sunglasses. That was boring. He exaggerated a yawn and looked up at Scott. 

"I'll still kill them, are we clear?" 

Scott bit his lip and nodded. "What's the game anyways?" 

"Well, Scottie-boy," Mitch beamed. "We're going on a date." 

I MAY UPDATE TWICE TODAY BECAUSE I'M EXCITED FOR THE NEXT CHAPTER LOL. 

It's short but suck my fuck. 

:)

-Jai