Supernatural Imagines & Preferences ^Completed^

There's Only One (Misha×Reader) {Serial Killer AU}

   Based on the song 'Kill All Your Friends' by My Chemical Romance

   This is a bit graphic so like warnings of blood and gore and weird serial killer thoughts :) This seemed more real than I wanted it to so I'm so so sorry

   The blood clung to the carpet as you scrubbed it out to the best of your ability. The bleach you had gotten was shitty and it took all your might to get the last drop of red out of the white carpet. You let out a sigh of relief when you noticed it was gone, tossing the now-destroyed rag into the tarp and on top of the body. You rolled the blue tarp up, grunting as you picked up the dead woman. You threw her body into the bed of your truck, placing the bed cover over it before slamming it shut. 

   The soft rattling of your old friend in the trunk made you smile a little to yourself, happy that you finally got revenge for what she did to you. The ignoring. The rumor telling. The death threats.There had been many more, her not being the first one you had killed and certainly not your last. High school was living hell because of them, and you vowed to not let them get away with it. The feeling you got when you killed each one of them was one of liberation, you finally being able to let what they did to you go. 

 You drove out to lake on the outskirts of town, finding a patch of grass near it that you could dig up to lay her in. You grabbed your rusty shovel from the back of your truck, shoving it into the ground and flinging the dirt up in the air. After hours of labor, the hole was dug and you tossed the body in. You pulled out a lighter, conjuring a flame and tossing it in right after. The flames latched onto the tarp, causing it to explode into a mixture of red, orange, and yellow. You started throwing the dirt back into the hole, doing your best to disguise any remnants of you. 

   The cops had been on your trail for weeks now, following you string of murders and how the bodies were killed. You knew you had to switch up you routine, but the process of killing your victims so slowly then setting them on fire was appealing and you weren't ready to change it just yet. You also didn't know how to change it. You didn't know what else you could do. You sighed, polishing off the dirt pile and walking back to your truck. You turned around with your shovel up when you thought that you had heard another car, but when you didn't see anything you continued to walk to your truck, sticking the shovel into the bed of it before riding off back home. 

~Misha's POV~

   I stopped my car as soon as I heard another one start up. She almost saw me. I almost blew my cover. But she was in my spot. This was where I buried my bodies, and she could've just discovered all of them. I waited until her pickup truck pulled away and then I pulled into the spot that she was in. I had just bashed my most recent victim's head in, making them unrecognizable. I did that to all of them, so there was no way that the cops could identify them and track them to me. Everyone I killed went to high school with me; everyone I killed was like family to me until 11th grade. 

   They treated me like shit and they deserved to die. I dug a deep hole as I thought about my next victim, hitting something on the way down. I spotted a blue, muddy and burnt tarp and mumbled "shit." That other girl did this. She killed this woman and stuffed her into a hole which was where I stuffed all my other bodies. I jumped into the hole, unwrapping the tarp and spotting a burnt body. 

   "Damn," I mumbled as I rolled the lady around using my shovel. She had stab wounds in her chest, head, and back. It seemed pretty brutal and I was in shock for a few moments, which rarely happened to me. It was really hard to shock me anymore, but apparently that bitch was able to. I'd have to stay here a while, see if she'd come back. I threw the body that I had wrapped in a canvas bag into the hole. I dumped all of the dirt back into it and sat in my car, waiting for her to come back, no matter how long it took.

~Your POV~

   You pulled up in front of Misty's house, sighing as you stuffed the pistol into the back of my pants and the knife into my boots. You scoped out your surroundings, focusing on if she was alone or not. Her husband wasn't home, thank God, so you snuck in through a window in the kitchen. She was talking on the phone in her living room and you hid until she hung it up. As she walked towards the kitchen, you pointed your gun at her and pulled the trigger, hitting her square in the forehead. You sighed in relief, thankful that the death was too quick for her to react and scream loudly and that no huge amounts of blood flew onto the walls. 

   You picked her up, carrying her into the backyard and rummaging through the shed, looking for anything to wrap her up in. You noticed a box full of gardening tools, and dumped them out. You walked the box over to her and stuffed her inside, trying your hardest to ignore the sickening cracks of her bones as you shoved her far enough to close it. You struggled to carry her out to your truck and lift her up into the bed. Once you did, you wiped the sweat off your brow and climbed into the driver's seat of your truck. You sped off, going back to the lake the bury her body. 

   You got there and parked on the opposite side of the lake. You climbed out of the truck, walking around to the bed. You opened it up, climbing in to help pull the box out from the far back.  You grabbed the shovel, walking over to the dirt patch and beginning to dig in the same place you did early. As you got closer to the bottom, you heard somebody cock a gun from behind you. You felt the cold metal pressed against your neck and you dropped your shovel to raise your hands. 

   "Who are you," the rough, deep voice asked from behind you. When you didn't answer you felt your body jerk as the man pulled you around to face him. He pressed the gun to your temple. "Who are you?" 

   "(Y/N)," you said meekly, feeling yourself shake from nervousness as his face contorted into confusion. 

   "Like, (Y/N) (Y/L/N)? The murderer? The one the cops have been tracking for months," he asked as you nodded rapidly. "Well, I guess I'm getting a hefty reward then, huh?" He kept the gun pressed to your head as he pulled out his phone to call the police. 

   "No, no. P-please no," you begged as he jammed the metal farther into your temple. 

   "Hello, police. I'd like to report a murder." His mouth formed into a sadistic smile as you cried and cried. He continued talking for a few moments until he told them your location. He hung up, shrugging his shoulders and lowering his gun, wrapping your arms behind your back. "Sorry, sweetheart. There can only be one."