#psychocentric

Dave was furious, and he seemed blinded by rage. “You called me crazy?!” he yelled, his soothing voice before wasn’t even existent with this Dave. This was a different Dave. Once he was triggered like this, he went… mad. He grabbed John by the hair, tugging him to be face to face with him. “I’m NOT!” he hissed before releasing his hair. “No… I’m not..” he shook his head and looked instead at the wall across the room, but his voice quieted down a bit as he retreated off of him, sitting beside him on the bed. He sat criss-cross, bringing his hands up to his head as he shook his head again. “No, n-no..”

John was shaking, tears falling from his eyes. "You're not right.... Y-You need help... J-Just let me go.... P-Please.... I want to go home..." His voice was fearful, and his slim hand came up to wipe his cheeks. "Please.... My dad.... H-He can get you the help you need.... I just wanna go home...." He choked a bit, sobbing. He was so terrified, scared to mess up and make the other hurt him. He was so horrified. What if he was killed? He had to get out. To escape. He had to. The raven-haired boy looked up, sniffling. His normally bright blue eyes were dull and pained. It was obvious he was uncomfortable. Dave didn’t seem to hear him as he sat there, shaking his head with his eyes locked on the bed beneath him. He didn’t respond to him, the only words coming from his mouth being the occasional mutter of ‘no’ and ‘I’m not crazy’. After a little bit, the young, dark-haired male leaned back a bit, against the wall. His eyes stayed on Dave, a few loose tears on his glasses. He moved to stand up, looking at him. "C-Can you even hear me?"

Dave’s eyes slowly were directed to John, and he looked at him blankly. He didn’t respond, only stared. John looked at him for a moment, then glanced at the door. Maybe he could escape. It was a brief thought. He could run... If Dave was this unstable, maybe he could get out. He had to.

Dave’s eyes watched him, his eyes were fixed on John like he was the only thing to look at. His face was void of any expression and his mumbling had stopped. It was so silent you could hear a pin drop, not even Dave’s breathing was audible. John kept his eyes on the still blonde male now for a moment, until he made a split second decision. He ran toward the door as fast as he could. He was getting out. Home. To his father. The teen made it to and out the door, then looked around for a moment before locating the front door and running there too.

Bro heard the footsteps and immediately knew what it was. He was in front of the door in a split second, and he wasted no time in shoving John to the floor, a foot on his chest. “And where to you think you’re going?” John cried out, hands going to the foot pressing him to the ground.

"G-Get off... I want to go home... P-Please..." He struggled under him a little, trying hard to get the large foot off of him.

As soon as John began waking up, he made a soft noise. It was groan-like and quiet, and as soon as his eyes opened he startled to the point that he was wide awake nearly immediately. This made him a little dizzy at first, but he soon regained his vision and blinked, then looked at Dave with a terrified expression and let out a confused, scared whimper. "W-Where am I...?" He managed to choke out softly. Dave gave a soft smile as he held him in his arms, where John squirmed in fear.

“You’re home.” he replied almost soothingly, but it sounded so out of place in such a chilling environment. Dave held him in his lap, petting his disheveled bedhead of hair, looking at him. “What’s your name?” he asked, his voice still soft.

John looked so scared and so confused, and he shook his head. The young man tried to pull away from the blonde, trembling a bit. "N-no... No I'm not home... I... I want to go back.. Please... P-Please let me go home...." His voice sounded a little broken, and he pulled a bit, trying to get out of his arms.

Dave still hugged him to his chest, not budging. “Just tell me your name.” he said, a bit more stern this time. “I don’t want to have to discipline you already.” he sighed slightly, rocking him back and forth in a half-hearted attempt to calm him down. It was true, to some extent, that he didn’t want to have to hurt him already. To at least revel in his panic and disorientation for a little while.

John whined softly when his captor said that, and he shook his head again. "M... M-My name....?" He muttered softly, looking down and still struggling and wiggling in his arms a bit. "W-Why? Why can't you just let me go home...?" He whispered, tears in his eyes. "I.. I don't need to be here... I-I need to go h-home..."

  --

  “No, you’re here, and you’re here to stay. Now, tell. Me. Your. Name. I’m going to find out one way or another, might as well save yourself the pain and just tell me.” he threatened, his index finger moving to tilt John’s face toward his own, a faint grin on his lips.

John shook his head. "N-no... No, I'm not... I'm not going to tell you... M-My dad is going to f-find me and you're gonna get arrested.... J-Just..." He choked a bit, squirming more. "Let me go...!"

“No one is going to find you. Being arrested? Child’s play. I’m not scared... and you shouldn't be either, I just want to know your name.” he said, now moving to grip his wrists and hold him still, turning to pin him down so he'd stop squirming so much.

John whined loudly, a few tears streaming down his face. "No, stop... Y-You're crazy... H-He's going to be looking for me... I'm... I'm not going to tell you.. You don't d-deserve to know my name...." He said, still wiggling a little bit as he spoke.

--

Dave froze. John had no idea just how badly he fucked up just then by saying that one word. He looked down at him still, his red eyes going dark behind his shades. “I’m… What?” he growled, his voice wasn’t calm and soothing any more. His grip turned dangerously tight on John’s wrists as he held him there, glaring down at him. “What did you just call me?!”

John still lay in his bed peacefully asleep, his chest rising and falling slowly. He sniffed softly, then let out a quiet snore and turned over, his back toward Dave. The dark-haired teen mumbled something that couldn't be understood, and he curled up into a semi tight ball under his ghost covered blanket.

  --

  Dave was borderline shaking in excitement, a wide grin plastered on his lips. He pulled a small plastic bag from his pocket, and as he opened it, an ether-like smell wafted through the room. It was typical for him to bring chloroform along when he was hunting for a pet but… this boy wasn’t like the other pets he’d had. John was just so different from the others. He shook his head, having realized he was zoning out. He swiftly turned John onto his back and shoved the rag over his mouth and nose, gazing down at him.

  --

  John jumped awake when he was moved, but it didn't last long. He struggled weakly to get away from the intruder in his room, and a couple of muffled yells came from him. He barely got a decent look at him before he was asleep once more, his blue eyes dull as they slipped shut. John lay limp in his arms once he picked him up, his mouth hanging open just slightly. Only a moment ago, he'd been asleep in bed, then in no time at all he had been woken and terrified, only to be out cold once more. He wouldn't wake for a little while, staying unconscious.

--

  The Strider picked him up, carrying him bridal style out of the room. He looked at his face still. God, he was gorgeous. He decided to pick up the plushie that was at the foot of his bed as well, placing the plushie salamander on his chest as he carried him down the stairs and out of the house, closing the door behind him with his foot. Dave walked down the sidewalk towards a house down the street with a hum, a smile creeping onto his face once more. He couldn’t help but be so excited to have found this beautiful boy, and to have caught him so easily. It was meant to be, he thought. That had to be it.

They soon arrived at the seemingly vacant house, and Dave kicked the door a few times with his foot. There stirring from within the house, and a pause of silence before a man opened the door, his pointed shades glinting in the cold moonlight as he gazed down at his younger brother. “I got him, Bro.” Dave said. “Yeah, I see that.” Bro responded before stepping aside and letting him in. “He’s really pretty.”

John finished his movies, looking at the window out to the darkening sky. He still felt odd, but he brushed it off. He was just being silly, that had to be it. The young man got up and took his bowl to the kitchen, rinsing the slimey butter and salt residue out of it. He put it in the dishwasher to run later, then proceeded to walk back to a back room on the house. The teen smiled a bit and walked over to his piano, silently closing the door as he left the doorway. His thin, pale fingers trailed lightly over the keys of his piano, the black keys contrasting the adjacent white ones beautifully, and the raven-haired boy smiled and sat down, looking at the keys for a moment. He decided to play a song after a while of silently admiring the keys of the grand piano. There was only one window to the room, a window that had opened curtains since he normally came in here during the day on weekends to practice. The sixteen year old paid no mind to the aforementioned window, shaking off the recurring feeling of being watched. He played gracefully, his fingers gliding over the keys with an air of elegance. He smiled a bit and swayed a bit with the tune. It was slow, and it was beautiful. He listened as harmonies intertwined with melodies, and his confident smile never faded from his features. He wasn't normally this confident with everything he did, but now, while he was alone, it was different. He could let go of any and every little insecurity and be himself. He played until the song was over, which lasted a total of about five minutes because he just loved to slow down the more soft parts because of the way the notes rang through the room with such perfect acoustics. He leaned back a bit and sighed happily, letting his fingertips grace over the keys gently enough so that they didn't make any noise. This was the life. Free of care and as relaxed as the melody he'd just played was.

  --

  Dave looked through the window still, watching him as he played. His eyes glimmered with awe as he listened to him play, his gaze locked on the blue-eyed boy on the piano bench. God, he was so gorgeous. The Strider sighed and shut his eyes, moving from the window to lean against the house. The muffled, but still beautiful music ringing in his ears. When the music stopped, he opened his eyes, glancing back through the window. The blonde swiftly retrieved his phone from his pocket, checking the time. Fifteen minutes before he can retrieve John, and finally hold him in his arms for the first time. He grinned, looking back to the window.

--

John sighed softly, glancing over at the window for a moment but again, finding nobody there. He closed the piano and smiled down at it, then moved to leave the room. It was getting kind of late, so he decided it'd be best to start getting ready for bed. The blue-eyed teen walked out of the room and started toward the stairs, then sent into the bathroom. He brushed his teeth, then took his glasses off and looked at his bleary figure in the mirror. He sighed and put the glasses back on, then walked to his room and changed into some comfy pants and a blue T-shirt. He removed his glasses once more and set them on his bedside table, smiling a little as he turned off the lights and laid down in bed, curling up and relaxing.

--

Dave heard his watch beep, and a grin spread slowly across his lips. Finally. He crept from the side of the house to the front, jiggling the handle. Locked. No problem. He slipped a thin pocket knife from his pants and slid it into the lock, ear pressed to the door. He heard it click, and snickered softly. The young hitman was excited, and there was little self control keeping him from sprinting up the stairs and dragging him out right there and then, but he managed to contain himself. Dave slunk towards the stairs, eyes scanning the darkness of the house from over his shades. He moved to climb up the stairs, walking on the edges of each to avoid creaks.