Spending the Afternoon With a Serial Killer

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Reader's POV

I push away the kit. Giving into the urge, I hug him. The cold-bodied, dark-hearted serial killer that just saved me. Wrap my arms carefully under his, pull him from the wall, and bury my face in his neck. Stiffening at first, he eventually relaxes and hugs back, careful with his shoulder.

"Thank you for saving me." I whisper.

"You're my friend, aren't you? Besides, the boys and I have a bit of a race. And I'm determined to win." He squeezes me tighter.

My face flushes and I know I'm red up to my forehead. Pulling away, I try to glare at him, but I know it's not affective because he's smirking at me. "I thought you weren't going to do that stupid competition." I give up on glaring, instead opting for a pout.

He shrugs. "We're heartless serial killers, but being a killer isn't our only entertainment. Otherwise it gets really boring." He cracks a wide smile, flashing his sharp white teeth.

I nod with mocking understanding. "Yes, because I absolutely understand your murder streaks."

He laughs and rubs my shoulder. "I would hope not. A life like mine isn't a life for someone as beautiful as you."

If my face could get any warmer, it would have. "Natalie and Jane are more beautiful then I am." I mutter, getting up to put away the kit. "Do you want some lunch? I think we have some supplies for sandwiches. Although, we don't have any kidneys." I hear Jack laughing from my room.

"No, I think I'll be fine. I don't need to eat very often." He follows me into the kitchen, regardless. "Besides, if I were hungry, I think you would be dead by now. And those gentlemen on the roof would be missing a few organs."

Anyone else might have heard the joke and thought he was being serious, but I know he isn't. "Maybe. But then, wouldn't you lose the competition?" Glancing back, I smirk back at him.

"How's that?" His head is cocked to the side. Adorable!

"Well, you would have given in to your... Nature. If you let yourself do that, it would prove you don't really care anything about me." Shrugging, I turn back to my cooking.

"I guess that's true. I'll just make sure I don't eat you then." There's smile on his voice when he talks. It's nice to hear.

I finish making lunch and go to sit on the couch. Jack flops down next to me, almost making me spill my food. So, I playfully smack his (uninjured)shoulder. He laughs it off and lays his head on my lap. Snarling, I put my plate on his face and start eating.

"Hey! This is not how a good hostess treats visitors." He groans.

"Good visitors do not mistreat and tempt their hostesses."

The rest of the day we spend lounging around the living room, talking, watching movies and playing the occasional video game, most of which Jack dominates even though he's eyeless. Personally, I think it's completely unfair. After being beat at another round of Mortal Combat, I give up and flop down onto his lap.

"How are you so good at video games? You're not that old!" I whine and complain.

Laughing, he replies with "I've had to play Ben a lot, and believe me, he's a hard kid to beat."

"But isn't he, like, part coding or something? That totally gives him the leeway to cheat without getting caught!"

Jack thinks about this for a moment. "You know what? You're right. That little scumball has been cheating!" This is followed by an incoherent mumbled slew of curses and insults directed at said phantom.

I roll my eyes, glancing at the clock. It's 11:43 PM! Shit! Bolting upright, I grab Jack's arm and drag him back to my room. How had I lost track of time?!

"Woah. What's up?"

"It's almost midnight. My parents will be home soon and I should have been asleep almost two hours ago. You have to leave before they get here." You explain, shoving Jack out the window.

"Wait. My clothes! And your dad's shorts? And my mask."

I shove his jacket and jeans at him. "Keep them. My dad won't notice. I'll fix your mask in the morning and bring it to you at school. Now go." I try to shove him out the window.

"But I need it. The guys are gonna ask questions." He's trying to stall. Bad idea.

"Let them ask questions! Please just go home, Jack!" I'm starting to get scared. If I don't fall asleep in the next fifteen minutes I'm going to get hurt! And I still have to hide Jack's mask somewhere my parents won't look.

I give another shove, but Jack's frozen. He's looking down at me intently, worry and curiosity carving his face. That's when I realise I'm crying. Oh boy.

He bends down until he's at my level and brushes some tears from my cheeks, cupping the side of my face. Concern is heavy on his mouth. "Do they hurt you, (y/n)?" His voice is different. Heavy. Divided.

I shake my head. "Please just go home, Jack. The guys will ask even more questions if you stay the night, and I don't want you here when my parents get home. Just go. Please." Ugh. Why does it have to come to begging? Why couldn't he have just let me lose my pencil and book? What an idiot.

He sighs and nods. "Okay, I'll go. But only if you come to school an hour early and let me check for bruises and cuts." He hugs me before turning and vanishing out of the window.

He's gone. And I'm relieved. But why does it hurt more to have him gone, then to know he will see what happens? Maybe it's because I know he won't actually go home. Maybe he's still watching me. As an extra measure, I lock my window and draw the shades tight. Anything that will keep him from me tonight will be worth the pain. That's for certain.

Then I hear the front door open. They're early. Ten minutes early. And I'm too late.

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