𝘿𝙖𝙢𝙤𝙣 𝙊𝙣𝙚𝙨𝙝𝙤𝙩𝙨

𝙗𝙖𝙙

「。。。」

Snake.

The King.

Satan himself.

The list goes on.

Real name: Simon Cowell. But don't speak his name, he'll rip you to shreds with his bare hands.

The man got himself in the hell hole with acts unspeakably despicable and twisted. No other could get near him, in the fears of being killed. The bravest and smartest of psychologist hired by Grimaldi's School for Criminals had had no progress on figuring out the puzzling male and his dark past. So like any smart individual, they had gone down the route hiring a 'virgin'. Unprofessional. Inexperienced. Innocent. Cute.

David stood outside the psychopath's room. He'd heard the tales of what he'd done. He knew the danger and sacrifices he would have to make in order to accomplish his goal. He knew he could die. But it was alright, as he was willing to give it all to discover the man.

Put away in a heavily locked room, Satan had been driven insane for the past years by darkness and loneliness. No love. No friends. No light. Or at least thats what a sorry, vanilla David thought as he gently knocked on the iron door of the only room in the floor.

Cowell
001

Getting no answer, he pressed the button on the intercom, "Satan," David cringed at the nickname he was being forced to call him, "May I come in?"

Still no one replied.

David gulped. "I-I'm your new psychologist. I'm here to ask a few ques-"

His words were interrupted by a hard slam against the door, causing the metal to shake. He jerked back in fear at the sudden move from the person inside but refused to give up.

"Sat-Uh, Please just let me in. We'll just talk for an hour-or how much time you wish. It will benefit you. Please." His last word was small, his voice cracking and begging, he couldn't lose this.

For a couple seconds, nothing happened. His head turned back and forth in anxiety, looking down the bare, grey hall. Then, the sudden crash of static filled his ears.
He picked up the intercom.

He waited anxiously for a response, the hairs of his neck standing.

".....you're....cute....begging..." The voice was gruff and dripped with danger, making David's legs rattle in submission. Huh?

Ignoring his confusing thoughts, his mouth opened to ask what the man meant. But before the words could come out, his hand with the keys to the door moved to the lock. His heart picked up and he held his breath.

His eyes reached nothing but the darkness of the room, not able to outline anything with the light from the outside. With a shaky breath, he swiftly moved his long legs to the inside of the room. His sight couldn't get used to the pitch black and his arms reached out to get a hold of anything. The slow and quiet click of the door behind him caused him to almost scream like a little girl.

Instead, his squeaky voice broke the killer silence, "Could you—Is there l-light?"

His ears twitched when a small ruffle came from one side. Then one by one, star shaped light bulbs brightened the room, but not by much.

David's trembling orbs scanned the space: grey walls, a simple desk, and a small bed with a man on-A MAN WAS ON THE BED.

An audible gasp escaped his moist lips. There he was, in all his beauty, the Simon Cowell. His posture was messy but graceful as he sat lazily on the sloppy bed. Ripped black jeans wrapped nicely around his legs, hugging the curves of his thighs and groin deliciously. His white shirt was lifted just slightly, a glistening six-pack hiding underneath.

"Uh-um."

Those eyes- and just like that, the lights were off again. Damn it.

Before he could process it, a hand covered his mouth shut and his arms were held behind his back. His brown eyes widened in shock and alarm.

A warm, wet muscle lightly stroke up his ear and his neck itched at the feel of warm air. A malicious grumble sounded from behind him. All the blood drew from his face when, "I got you."

🖤

a/n: hi
so this was inspired by 'CARAVELLE: School of Psychopaths' by LadyYandereShane.
its not a damon story but its freaking awesome, go check it out
-jissel