Seth always had a rather peculiar taste. But that was normal of talented children. Talented, yes. Sick? Also yes.
The Armenian had been adopted at 3 years old to the McMahon-Helmsley family and his older brother, Randy, never let him forget it. But it didn't matter, because even though he wasn't blood he was the pride of the family. At only 7 years old he mastered several string instruments, from the guitar to the cello, could solve the most complex of equations, read at a doctoral level at 9, could sing centuries old Italian operas with perfect pitch at 10, and developed an affinity for realism and architectural design and realistic portraits by 11 that sold for thousands. Did it all while still keeping his manners, answering 'Yes, ma'am,' and 'No, sir' like a good boy.
The latter stuck with him, the former ones he participated in to appease his surrogate family. A family that told him at age 5 that he kept his birth last name, Rollins, because he had to earn his way into this family. He did that and so much more, but they never did bother switching his name over.
Now, at 18, with a 4.0 GPA since he was old enough to attend schools that used that grading scale, Seth was bored. He was ridiculously intelligent, talented, and adopted by a wealthy family. But none of it meant anything, because none of it was thrilling. None of it was what Seth wanted out of life.
In fact the only thing he truly desired to do in life was to hold up in his room, look up gore on the web, listen to glorious deathcore, and paint beauties of blood and bone and sex, paying no mind to the fact he was a kissless virgin.
Now, at 18, Seth is on a senior class trip and wished deep down inside he could hide back within his room. Disneyland is supposed to be a dream come true, but it's a goddamn nightmare. And to make matters worse his school implemented a three-way buddy system for the trip, with Seth being shackled with Summer and Tyler. A pair of bubbly blondes that locked lips every chance they got, despite insisting they weren't dating.
It was none of his business, regardless, and he kept his distance from them the entire trip. There were some cool things, like the Haunted Mansion, and he even bought himself a set of Mickey Mouse ears, peer tradition. The churros were fucking delicious, too. But soon the sun was waning, and the head teacher sent out a group text informing all students to begin making their way back towards the tour bus, where it would take them back to the hotel. Except Tyler was too damn busy taking selfies with Summer to inform Seth, who had left his cell phone back at the Hilton where he stayed.
"Shit, Ty, baby, what are we gonna do?" Summer said, voice dramatic as per usual. Seth couldn't stop his eye roll if he tried.
"We could just walk back." Seth shrugged nonchalantly, nasally voice an edge of tiredness and irritation.
"And how are we going to find our way back, genius?" Tyler scuffed, peering at him through shoulder length locks.
"Got a phone, don't you? Just turn on your GPS."
"Oh, yeah." The blondes replied.
God, sometimes he swore the two combined still didn't have an IQ of a 100. Seth continued to trail ahead of them despite Tyler being the one with directions, falling lost into his own world as he did sometimes. The world he hid it paintings and landscapes far from preying eyes. That's why he doesn't register the horrified screams and gasps of the blond teens, swiveling around when he hears a deep rasp of a voice address him.
"Against the fuckin' wall, kid. Do I gotta spell it out for ya stupid ass?" Tall, so tall, with a ratty hoodie and leather jacket on, dirty jeans, converse that have to be nearly as old as Seth, and a black and white checked scarf covering everything about his face that hood didn't, save for wild, grey blue eyes. After taking in the person, Seth noticed the gun in his hand. Strong, rough hands that had seen better days. The teen doesn't even attempt to ignore the excited thrill thrumming up his spine. A real fucking gun.
He joined Summer and Tyler against the alley the strange man had motioned them towards. The two were shivering messes, spit and tears falling copiously down and Summer sobbed loudly, causing their assailant to twitch slightly, steadily angling the gun flat at her forehead. Seemed like the only thing that was stable about this guy was his grip. Because his pupils were blown, his voice a snarl of anger and desperation.
"Shut the fuck up, lil' bitch…swear to god." The man looms over them both, the gun mere centimeters away from her.
"Please, please…" Seth was shocked at Tyler's boldness, taking the blond to be a larger sissy than Summer. "…we have money. Not a lot but we have it…you can take it, just…please." Seth remained silent, observing the trembling form of his classmates with a stoic expression.
"Don't want no fuckin' money, you lil' snot…" He growled. Seth fell in love with that voice, impeccably aware of the shiver it sent down his spine that was firmly plastered against dirty brick. "…if I wanted ya goddamn money I woulda took it already…" The gun is retracted for a moment and Seth's heart hammered in his chest. What would this man do to them? What could he want? Was he going to take advantage of Summer? Or did he have something even more sinister in mind?
The snapping of metal and plastic causes the teen to tilt his head back, idly brushing back his own dark, long locks to get a better look at the blade now being twirled through nimble fingers before it snaps straight.
"Nah, not in it for the money, baby…" Seth wished that scarf wasn't in the way, wished he could see the grin that was undoubtedly plastered on the stranger's face. He ran the blade down the trembling teen girl's left cheek, denting in just enough for a path of red to follow.
"Stop, stop!" Tyler shouted, grabbing at the adult male's arm, but soon there was a gun against his head and a bang echoed and there's brain matter mere inches from Seth's feet. He gawked, big brown eyes wide as he sees the life drift from Tyler's shocked blues, mouth a gape as if he was still shouting, blood forming a crude halo, turning blond to a dirty pink. It was more thrilling than Seth could ever imagine, holding his arms defensively over his chest as he backed farther away, retreating a few feet deeper through the alley. It was a dead end, but he needed to gather himself and his thoughts, to truly register he just witnessed his first murder. And he loved it.
"No, oh God, oh GOD!" Summer cried, twisting against the towering wiry form as he grabbed a handful of her hair.
"Too loud, too FUCKING LOUD!" As if the headshot hadn't already put Seth into overdrive, the knife was plunged deep into Summer's jugular, blood spurting every which way as he cut a rough hole in her throat, her heels clinking against the pavement as the man's jeans and hoodie became soaked in red.
Then he started whistling, honest to god whistling and Seth is frozen, his expression one of bewilderment and awe and he notices now that he's hard. So achingly hard and this man who's face he can't even fully seen has made him feel more, meant more to him than anyone else has.
"And then there was one, huh?" That tall form loomed over Seth's, leaning in close as he felt the warmth of his breath against his cheek through the thin scarf. "How come this piggy ain't cryin', huh?" A soft coo it was, a blood soaked petting across his tan flesh. "Mmm, pretty piggy, ain't ya?" God, the smell of the fresh, warm iron rich blood and the lull of this man's voice. Intoxicating. "Can ya talk?" His cheeks were squished together then, light stubble and nose now covered in red.
"Before you kill me…can I see your face?" Said so calmly, so cool and relaxed as Seth always was and the man laughs, deep and hardy in his throat before he steps back, eyeing the younger male with a more analytic gaze. It was still wild, but not the rage and blown look of had while he carved into Summer and shot Tyler dead.
Without another word the man pulled his hood down, revealing a messy mop of auburn locks. Seth could picture the contrast of the hair with his own tan skin as he tugged on it, could imagine how soft it must be despite the mess. And then the scarf is tugged down to reveal a small nose, or at least smaller than Seth's, and a thin line of pretty pink, and breath-taking dimples.
"You're…you're beautiful." Seth stammered, long eyelashes fluttering as the man pushed the gun firmly against his temple. "Thank you, for showing me, sir." There's hesitance then, confusion in those gorgeous droopy blues as his eyebrows drawing together tight. Seth slide his eyes shut, heart loud and blood thrumming underneath the surface of his skin, cock hard and heavy as he is ready to accept his fate.
Except suddenly there isn't a body pressed up against him, the gun never goes off, and he's left staring up at this older male. "You hard, kid?" It's an amused snort, but there's something like nervousness in the male's tone.
"Y-Yeah, I…I am…" It's meek and soft and Seth looks down shyly then, the arousal kicking up a notch as he spots a speckle of blood on his right shoe.
"Fuck." The man hissed then, pulling the safety on as before tucking the gun tightly away. "You fucked up a lil, ain't ya? No sense in me killin' you off…leave you to some gangbangers or somethin'…." It doesn't come out as cold or disgusted as it should, but is a rather playful tease and Seth wants to hear that tone more. "Didn't even shed a fuckin' tear for them…"
"I don't care about them." Seth said matter-of-factly, growing in boldness as he took a step towards the stranger. "I care about you, now."
A snort and the older male rubbed at his collarbone idly, Seth wondering how it would taste to lick the blood from those fingertips. "Heh…should kill ya, really, now that you've seen my face. Shouldn't let you get away with it. But you're somethin' special…aren't ya?"
"I won't tell anyone…I…" Fuck it. He's lived life dull enough as it is and this man speaks promise. The promise for what Seth truly desires. "…take me with you."