Psycho Killer (Zak Bagans) (Ghost Adventures) *COMPLETED*

Chapter One

Y/N

Tonight was a sad night, a bunch of us had gathered at our local pub to mourn the loss of a good friend Coach Andrews, who had run our softball team as kids. Playing softball was an escape, and no matter how shit I was feeling that day coach always knew how to make us laugh and feel good about ourselves. His murder was a violent one, the 6th victim of an alleged serial killer who had been stalking our streets of Las Vegas for the past couple of months evading Police capture.

This serial killer so far had only killed middle-aged men, all of whom there were no connections or links, making the killing spree appear random. The press had given him the nickname 'Happy Snapper' because on all the bodies were several polaroids showcasing the different stages of torture right the way up to the final killing blow. They were pretty graphic so no one had leaked them to the press.

The local government was considering putting a curfew in place until the person was caught, but Police argued that could make the killer leave town and start killing somewhere else. If they were targeting middle-aged men then the curfew should just be for them, a thought shared by many people my age and younger. Why should we be punished if we're not the targets?

After a few drinks, the rest of the group hit the dance floor leaving me on my own at the end of the bar nursing my third vodka orange. I liked alone time, but it was interrupted by some heavily drunk guy who was starting to sprout grey hairs sitting down next to me and placing his hand on my thigh. The way this guys eyes raked over my body made me feel uncomfortable.

'Err can you get off me please?' I ask, almost in a whisper not wanting any confrontation.

'What's a beautiful thing like yourself doing sitting alone, spend your night with me,' he slurs.

I roll my eyes and go to slap his hand away which now had a death grip on my thigh when a hand comes down firmly on the drunk's shoulder.

'I think he told you to get your filthy hand off of her,' an unfamiliar but somewhat familiar male voice growls.

I dare a glance up only to lock eyes with a guy who looked older than me but younger than the drunk. There was something cold and calculating behind his eyes, like a man on a mission. His brown hair looked like it had been slicked back making him appear intimidating, along with the long sleeve black button-down that screamed 'don't fuck with me. the drunk removes his hand visibly shaken, while I hated to admit that I was slightly turned on. Then it dawned on me that it was Zak Bagans coming to my aid, the host of Ghost Adventures of my favourite tv shows. What was he doing in a place like this?

'Thank you, Zak,' I murmur under my breath scared to lock eyes with him again because if looks could kill I'd be dead on the floor.

Zak manages to get the drunk to his feet and leans over to roughly capture my chin with his free hand forcing me to look up at him, 'God you're perfect,' he states matter of factly.

He chuckles darkly and releases my chin, and I watch as he and the drunk disappear into the crowd. I pout and lean my hands on the bar, this had to be some alcohol-induced fever dream because what just happened couldn't be real.

I signal the bartender and owner Sam who I was good friends with, 'I'm going for a breather out back.'

Sam gives me the thumbs up and I get off the stool suddenly craving fresh air after my encounter to coll myself down. They didn't like us smoking out front because it put off some customers, but a select few of us were allowed out back behind the bar to smoke though I didn't smoke myself, I simply liked the company because I hated the thought of being alone. I didn't see any of my friends but I assumed Sam would tell them where I'd gone.

Pushing through the crowds of people I come to the emergency exit which led into the back alley, surprised to see it slightly ajar. Maybe my friends were outside smoking and hadn't bothered to tell me. I slip out of the small crack and pout not seeing my friends anywhere.

Despite the stench of garbage and piss, I take a deep breath when further down the alley I hear what appears to be a scrap between two guys. Fights were commonplace in the alley, with drunks brawling each other each night for no real reason. I should have gone back inside and told Sam but curiosity got the better of me.

Sneaking further into the alley I try to conceal myself but there weren't many options. I was stunned to see the drunk guy who had tried to hit on me being pinned against the alley wall struggling, by none other than Zak Bagans who had called me perfect. This wouldn't be good for his image.

As if on cue the drunk's eyes find mine pleading for me to get help, but I was glued to the ground unable to move.

'Oh looks like we have a guest,' Zak laughs but never looks my way too focused on the job at hand.

Every instinct in my body screamed at me to run back to the bar and get some help for this poor guy, but I still couldn't move. I was transfixed by what was happening in front of me. No one had ever really beaten a guy up before who'd been hassling me, so this was a first and it made my stomach do flips that a hot famous guy was defending my honour.

The transfixed soon turns to horror as Zak reveals a knife and in one clean motion slits the poor guy's throat. I never wanted anyone to die for me, but now his blood was on my hands even if I wasn't the one holding the knife.