Protective Killer ❃ lashton

preparings and praying

T H I R D  P E R S O N

 

One thing ran through Ashton’s head, ‘he had heard everything.’

               Ashton slammed his knee into Luke’s chin, making the younger male fall down the steps and slam into the metal table. Luke felt broken already, laying there. He was bleeding severely already. Ashton growled and grabbed his blades once he made it downstairs. He picked Luke up and slammed his body onto the table.

“A-Ash?”

“Shut up!” Ashton screamed.

               Luke had never seen Ashton this angry. He wiggled and whimpered under Ashton’s grip. He knew once Ashton victims came down here, they didn’t come back up. He was a victim of Ashton’s, right? Ashton stripped Luke down to his boxers, smirking as his place traced over the pale skin. Luke was too weak to fight back, his eyes were lazy, barely worried anymore. He knew this day would come and to be honest, he was so ready to be with his mum again and hug her.

“Why aren’t you freaking out Luke? Why?!” Ashton was so upset, he could stab him repeatedly right now, if he wanted.

“A-Ashton… why’d you kiss Michael?”

Ashton slashed down his thigh, “I ask the questions.”

“Not anymore, answer mine and I’ll answer yours.”

Ashton glared as he tore more into Luke’s thigh, cutting deep. Luke let out a scream of pain, trying to move away but he knew that only encouraged Ashton more.

“Because I want to die! I’d rather die than be with you!”

“I kissed Michael because he’s fu cking hot, Luke.”

“Why did you kill your mum?”

               Ashton rolled his eyes, licking over his lips, not letting Luke get to him like Michael had,

“Because, she was an annoying fu ck, like yourself.”

Luke let out a laugh, which caused Ashton to move to his other leg, “You were crying upstairs when Michael held you down and told the story, you insane little prick.”

Ashton stabbed his blade down in Luke’s stomach, his eyes prickling again, “Shut up, you fu cking who re.”

“I’m the whore? You forced me to have se x with you when I was fifteen, you sick fu cking bastatrd!”

“I wanted you to feel loved.”

“And I felt loved by being fu cked into the mattress?”

Ashton’s voice softened, “No.”

“You’re sick, don’t you know that?”

“Yes.”

               Ashton backed away, tossing his blade to the ground. His eyes flickered to the floor,

“I’m so sorry Luke.” He whispered, starting to clean Luke’s blood up.

               Luke squeezed his eyes shut at the burning in his gashes and cuts; he knew Ashton wasn’t going to kill him now. He started to cry, he hated his life so much. He hated Ashton so much, with a passion. He fisted his hair, tugging at it.

“Stop that, sweetie, don’t cry.”  Ashton wiped his eyes with the rag.

“Please, just let me sleep.” Luke pleaded.

               Ashton picked him up, bringing him upstairs and to the bedroom, laying him down on the bed. He tucked him in and laid beside him, kissing his forehead and shh’ing him to sleep. He brushed the hair out of his forehead.

“my poor baby.”

               Luke fell asleep, his mind running wild about Ashton, praying he wouldn’t wake. And Ashton praying that he could somehow, try to be better for Luke.