Slaughter •a 5SOS story• (MATURE)

(4)

"Ashton, do you know that Luke has disappeared?"

Ashton's eyes met Father Atchinson's and he smirked slightly. "That's probably my fault, Father," he said, nonchalantly. "I told him if I got caught, I would make sure he didn't live to tell what happened."

"And yet," he continued, "here you are, telling me everything that happened. Doesn't your threat to Mr. Hemmings cancel itself out in that way?"

"The whole point was for him to die, Father," Ashton said, squinting his eyes slightly. "Even for the second biggest hit crew in Michigan, one-point-five million dollars was a lot to cough up, regardless of the circumstances. I can tell what happened because this is my shame. This is my punishment. I was caught. I couldn't care less what happened to that kid."

Atchinson nodded once again before situating his rosary around his neck. "Let's get back to talking about what happened the night you found Luke Hemmings. The night you abducted him."

The killer smiled as he rethought those night's events. "He was wearing this nice little bomber jacket over a white shirt and dark, hip hugging skinny jeans," he said, his teeth showing as he smiled. "He looked so innocent and unaware that his life was about to be in jeopardy. It was absolutely breathtaking."

* *~~* *

Between the way he smiled and swayed his hips to the music that was playing in this old retro club, anyone could tell that Luke was a free spirit; unaware that the evil that roamed the world was seated right across from where he stood in the middle of the dance floor. His Converse squeaked against the linoleum floor, his dark green bomber jacket long forgotten as he danced to the beat of the old rock song coming from the jukebox with his friends.

At some point, one of the girls he was with pointed over to Ashton not-so-subtly and when their eyes met, Luke blushed heavily and smiled before turning back to his friends. Fucking teenagers, thinking that the world isn't out to get them when, in reality, that's exactly what they should be afraid of.

The next time Ashton looked up, Luke was walking toward me with his hands shoved in his front pockets, his suave facade not making its way past him as he made his way over to the booth.

He sat down and smiled at him, showing off a row of perfect fucking teeth that looked like they should've been fake with how flawless they were. Ashton didn't have time to marvel much more at his features because he opened his mouth and began speaking.

"I couldn't help but notice you've been watching me," he said smoothly, his voice coming out like smoke and dancing in the air around us. "See something you like?"

Ashton smirked lightly, thinking to himself how easy this was going to be. "I may see a few things," he said nonchalantly, leaning back against my seat. "Ashton," he said, nodding his head at him.

"Luke Hemmings," he said quietly, biting his lip as he eyed the man across from him closely. "What's a pretty boy doing in a place like this by yourself?"

"I could ask you the same thing," Ashton said, looking at my fingernails. "You practically reek of virgin, and this is a place crawling with people who are looking for quick fucks and fake feelings."

Luke was blushing hard now, his persona completely changing as his eyes cast down to look at his own nails.

"But," Ashton said softly, sliding around the oval-shaped booth so that he was shoulder to shoulder with him, "let me guess, princess." He leaned in to where his lips were just barely brushing the shell of Luke's ear and his arm was around the backrest of the booth behind them. "You're here because that's exactly what you want," he breathed against his ear, causing him to groan softly. "You want some random stranger to pop your cherry and never speak to them again because you're trying to piss someone off, right? Your father, I'm guessing. But you're too innocent and reserved to find someone yourself and ask them, so you either wait for one of your friends to persuade you or you wait for someone to approach you. How warm am I?"

At this point, Ashton's hand had slid forward, ghosting over the obvious bulge in the young man's jeans and gently squeezing what he could grab. He was completely putty in his hands, as the only thing he answered with was a slight nod and an even softer grunt. Ashton smirked as he leaned forward and took his earlobe between his teeth.

"Then what do you say we get out of here?"

Thirty minutes later the two were lip-locked in the killer's hallway, his hands sliding Luke's shirt off his body and tossing it to the ground along with his own. He then hitched his legs up and wrapped them around his waist, effortlessly carrying him upstairs to the bedroom and tossing him on the bed. Bite marks and soft, purple bruises were left in his wake as he trailed up his body, and stopped just as he got the base of his neck.

"I'm going to make us some drinks," he breathed out heavily, "and then we can continue this, yeah?"

Luke nodded vigorously, and the older man nearly jumped off of him and made his way downstairs to the kitchen. He pulled down two brandy glasses and put ice and whiskey in both, before pulling out his bottle of Triazolam from the cabinet and breaking one down in Luke's glass. He smirked to himself before taking the glasses back upstairs and pushing the door open slightly, smiling sweetly at Luke who was stripped down to his boxers and sitting cross legged on the bed.

"You're a saint," he said as the glass was passed to him.

Ashton scoffed slightly as he clinked their glasses together as some soft, unspoken toast. "I'm far from it, baby."

He laughed gently before taking the whiskey to his lips and taking a very impressive gulp of the amber liquid, setting the glass on the nightstand and turning back to the older man. It took another few moments of lazy making out before he pulled away from Ashton slowly and completely.

"M-My head feels funny," he said softly before leaning back against the mattress.

"Maybe you had too much to drink," Ashton said in a condescending tone, a sadistic smile slipping past his lips as Luke's eyes locked with his in horror.

"W-What did you d-do!?"

"My job, princess," he said in a cold tone just before Luke passed out completely.

Ashton sighed softly before pulling his phone from his jean pocket and dialing Andrew's number. "Bring the car," he said as soon as the man picked up. "I got the kid."

* *~~* *

"You drugged him," Atchinson said, his voice laced with apprehension as he stared at the man across from him.

"That I did," Ashton replied, eyes on his nails again. "You should really start listening so you don't have to repeat things I've already said."

Atchinson breathed in heavily before taking off his glasses and pinching the bridge of his nose. "It must be easy for you," he said softly. "A charming man like yourself going after naive teenagers who are none the wiser to who you are."

"Or what I'm capable of," he added proudly. "Believe me, Father, I've got way more tricks up my sleeve than anyone will ever know."

He nodded and slipped his glasses back on his face. "So it was that easy, then? To abduct this poor boy and no one even knew?"

"Trust me," Ashton said with a hard look on his face, "I did him a favor. A perfect boy with a Kingpin father, there was no telling who would've come after him before we did."

"So, what," he challenged, his eyes locked with Ashton's hazel ones, "you consider yourself his guardian angel?"

Ashton smirked at him once more. "I'm the Angel of Death, Father. I strike when necessary. I've killed more people than have been martyrs for your bullshit ideology, and have spared more lives than your enemies. I might as well be a god."

He leaned across the table with a devilish look in his eyes that caused Atchinson to back away from him slightly.

"And you don't want to test me."