Gas Mask ※ A Peterick AU

16| Rope

Pete

As Patrick and I sat on the couch he spoke up, his voice quiet. "Uh, sir?" He asked, making me turn to him. "What?" I responded. "Do you think I'll ever be able to see my friends again?" His voice was quieter this time. I looked down at the table before back up at him, shrugging my shoulders as a reply. "It doesn't matter, you don't need them anymore. I'm your only friend now." I replied before looking back at the screen. "But I don't even know your name, or what you look like." He mumbled. "My names Pete." I said, turning to him. His eyes were wide and mouth slightly agape. "Pete," he said quietly, testing out the name.

I chuckled and turned forward, now staring at the wall. "Pete." I said, frowning. I never liked that name, I actually hated it. I was named after my pathetic excuse of a father. I sighed and stood up, setting my plate on the table. "I have some work to do, so you should go eat in your room." I said, causing him to frown. "Okay." Was all he said before standing up, carrying his plate with him as I followed. He walked into the room, shutting the door behind him. As he did so I twisted the lock on the door, the soft click echoing around.

I walked back down the hallway and to the living room, pulling off my mask. As I set it down on the table I realized I almost let Patrick see my face, something I've never done before. I always kept my mask on when I was around my victims, that way they'd die never knowing who their killer was. But now that I kept Patrick alive I didn't know what to do. The mere thought made me uncomfortable, I didn't like trying new things. But I would have to. If I was going to spend time with Patrick then I had to let him see my face, I couldn't even eat around him because of the mask.

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The next morning I knocked on Patrick's door, holding my laptop in my hands. "Patrick, get up. Now." I said, knocking on the door again. A few seconds later I heard scrambling, then the door being pulled open after I unlocked it. He blinked his tired eyes which looked up at me with a frown. "What?" He grumbled, his voice rough from just waking up. "You need to look at this," I said, walking past him. I set the laptop down on the desk and pointed at the screen, making Patrick's eyes widen. "What, where's he going?" He asked, quickly blinking his eyes as he neared the laptop and looked at it.

Earlier this morning I had gone to the bookmarked page from yesterday, and to my surprise I saw Taylor and his family packing. "I'm not sure, : this means we have to get him here as soon as possible." I said. Patrick nodded, "So tonight?" He asked. "I guess so, but we'll have to plan all day. I can't risk getting caught because you want to torture him so bad." I told him. "Okay," he replied, not taking his eyes away from the screen. "So, what time do you think we're gonna go? And like, what are we going to do about his family?" He asked, glancing at me.

"Well I mean, we might have to go tonight. But I don't know when exactly they're leaving. They could just be packing like a few days in advance." I sighed, crossing my arms. "Well let's just go tonight. You know, just scope out the place, and if it looks good then we can just go in." Patrick suggested. For someone that probably got most of their violent ideas from video games and creepypastas that wasn't that terrible. "Okay, I guess that could work. Do you happen to know anything about their schedule? Like when his parents leave for work?" I asked. Patrick furrowed his eyebrows and looked up at the ceiling, as if the answer would be there. And it must've been because he looked back at me, nodding his head.

"His dad is a cop, he usually works the night shift. I've seen him around midnight while out with my friends a few times." He said, making my heart skip a beat. "He's a fucking cop? You didn't feel the need to mention this earlier?" I snapped, glaring at him, but he couldn't tell. "Sorry, I didn't think it'd really be important." He said quietly, his eyes boring into the wooden floor. "Of course it's ducking important. Pigs usually have top security and fucking German Shepard's trained to attack even the smallest threat." I grumbled, shaking my head. "Sorry," Patrick mumbled again, quieter this time. "Oh fuck off."