Blood covered Eric Schrader's hands and a good portion of his shirt. He was pissed. That was one of his favorite band shirts. A sigh escaped his mouth as he wiped his forehead with the back of his hand. He sighed again in defeat, there was now blood on his forehead from his hand. There was no winning this night.

"Sloppy, sloppy, sloppy." He sighed, "If I were any more messy, I'd be caught in a matter of days."

The body of a blonde man laid dead on the floor in front of him. Eric was smart enough to pull a Patrick Bateman and covered the entire floor with plastic tarps. A few splashes of blood found their way onto the wall. Any more and there'd be a chance he'd get caught by someone. He already had seven bodies taken care of with no one catching him. The police had been digging into to the disappearances of the previous people. Soon they'd start putting two and two together and he was in risk of getting caught.

The news had already been talking about a potential serial killer afoot. The next Ted Bundy. A real life Patrick Bateman. Modern day Jack the Ripper. He was gaining popularity quicker and quicker. So far, Eric hadn't heard a nickname he enjoyed. There was Mormon Murderer, and Salt Lake Killer. Both of which he hated to no end. He was pondering finishing off the ones who even came up with those names.

"Time to get to work." Eric cracked his blood stained hands and went to work.

First, he went into the kitchen to wash the blood off his hands before cleaning the apartment. After his hands were cleaned up as best as possible, he took off his shirt and set it in the sink to soak out the blood. Once that was sitting in the sink, he bent down and got the bucket of cleaning supplies from the under cabinet.

Before he could get to work on cleaning, a knock was heard at the door. Eric stiffened up. He was fucked, he had to be. Slowly, he began to walk to the door, walking over the bloody tarp on the floor. Before he went to the door, he had picked up the knife from the previous kill just in case. Eric looked through the peep hole to the mysterious person knocking.

"Hello? Oliver? Eric?" the person asked through the door.

Eric opened up the door slightly, standing in the doorway hiding the crime scene behind him. The knife in his hand was held behind his back, out of view.

"Hey. What's up, Kyle?" he asked, trying to keep as calm as possible. He was no Patrick Bateman, so there was no way he could handle getting caught.

"I heard some strange noises coming from in here and wanted to make sure you guys were okay."

"Uh, yeah, yeah, everything's fine."

"Is Oliver around?" Kyle pondered.

"No, he's still at work."

"Oh, I thought I heard another guy in here or something."

Eric's heart jumped into his throat. He knows something…

Kyle gave him a strange look, getting a closer look at the smear on his forehead, "Is… Is that blood on your forehead? Are you alright?"

Eric made a face and opened the door enough to pull his neighbor into the room and half threw him on the floor. Kyle stumbled and tried to catch himself, before tripping on one of the tarps. Eric locked the door behind him as he turned around, still hiding the knife in his hand. Kyle had to be taken care of for he had seen far too much.

Kyle felt something warm and wet under him, and dared to look. The tarp he was sitting on was coated in blood. He then looked from the blood on the tarp, to the blonde man dead a few feet away from him, and finally to Eric. Kyle's eyes widened in horror. He knew right there and then he wasn't getting out of that apartment alive.

"Y-you're that serial killer the news has been talking about!" he stammered out, now feeling his heart pounding against his chest.

Eric merely shrugged, "I suppose you caught me."

"You won't get away with this!" he exclaimed.

"Wow, really? Could you be anymore cliche right now?" Eric asked, making a gesture towards him, revealing the knife from behind his back. "'I won't get away with this'? Out of all the things you could say, that's what you stammer out? Haven't heard that one before." Eric bent down to become eye level with his neighbor, "News flash, Kyle. I've been getting away with this."

"H-how?"

"How what? How I've been getting away with all of this? Eh, it's been pretty easy really."

"What about Oliver?" Kyle exclaimed.

"What about Oliver?" Eric repeated, "He doesn't know a damn thing and I'm gonna keep it that way."

"You're a dangerous man," Kyle just talked to keep him distracted from him ending his life.

"I am indeed. I am also smarter than I come across. You don't want to get on my bad side," he smiled innocently to him.

"What are you going to do to me?"

"Uh, kill you. You've seen too much."

"But how?"

"Stop trying to put off me killing you. You're improperly fucked so it doesn't really matter. You ain't seeing the light of day again."

"But how are you going to kill me?" he kept trying his best to prolong the killing.

"I'm going to stab you a few times and slit your neck," he answered. "Wanna stop putzing around? I got shit to clean up and I wasn't planning on a two kill night."

Kyle tried to stand up and run to the nearest exit, but he slipped on the bloody tarp and fell onto the floor. Eric nodded approvingly and drove the knife into the new victims' hand. A yell escaped Kyle's mouth which made Eric roll his eyes.

"Mind keeping it down a bit?" he asked as he removed the knife from his hand and drove it deep into his shoulder. "I'm not in the mood for a three kill night."

Eric removed the knife from his shoulder and picked up the man, holding him awkwardly against his body. With a bored expression, Eric took the neck and slowly slid it across his neighbors neck. He didn't even take enjoyment from killing anymore. He needed to clean up before Oliver got home.

To Eric's horror, he heard the front door unlock. Oliver was home early. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuuuuck… Oliver took two steps into the door and saw the sight in front of him. His boyfriend, shirtless and covered in blood, sliding a knife against their neighbor's neck. A few feet he saw a strange blonde man lying dead. Oliver nodded a few times, silent.

Not knowing what to do, Eric let the body of their neighbor heave over dead. He attempted to smile to his boyfriend. "Hi, hon. Didn't think you'd be home so soon."

Without a word, Oliver turned around and walked right back out the door. Eric sighed, and dropped everything and ran out the door after him. He called his name as he ran down the hallway.

Oliver had already made it up to the roof by the time his boyfriend began to walk up the stairwell. Too many thoughts at once buzzed around Oliver's head as he paced back and forth on the roof. The man he had chosen to love was a murderer. The Mormon Murderer, the Salt Lake Killer… was his boyfriend. He shook his head and fell onto his knees.

Eric had a feeling his boyfriend was on the roof, one of his favorite spots to clear his head. He took a deep breath and pushed the door open to the roof. The door creaked as Eric pushed it open, causing Oliver to look up quickly.

"Oliver, please, I can explain," Eric began, holding up his hands showing he wasn't going to hurt him.

With a shaky hand, Oliver pointed to his boyfriend, unsure of what to think or say. As he began to slowly stand to his feet, Oliver said the most cliche thing he could think of, "stay back."

"I'm not going to hurt you," Eric reassured in the most cliche thing he could ponder up. It was an all around cliche night for him. "I promise."

"How do I know that for sure?" Oliver asked, slowly backing up away from Eric.

"Cause you know me," Eric made his way towards his boyfriend, moving slower than him. He didn't want to scare him even more.

"Oh do I?" as he spoke, he kept stepping backwards away from him. "Last time I checked, I don't know you. The Eric I know wouldn't be doing this."

"Oliver, please."

"Don't pull that on me."

"Do you honestly think I'd hurt you?"

"I don't know anymore!" Oliver exclaimed.

Oliver couldn't back up any farther without hitting the fire escape. Eric was still coming closer to him. He didn't bother looking where he was going, but kept his eyes on his serial killer boyfriend. One of Oliver's feet hit the wrong spot of the fire escape, and the whole thing creaked from the rust caked onto the structure.

"Let's talk about this," Eric tried.

"What's there to talk about?" Oliver exclaimed. He stepped back another small step and the structure creaked again.

The fire escape shifted dramatically. Oliver was soon regretting his decision. A few feet away, Eric saw at his boyfriend's face change from fear to complete terror. There was no way that thing could hold his weight. Their apartment building was old, without a doubt. It wouldn't be surprising if the fire escape hadn't been checked or maintained since the apartment building was built.

Oliver dared and took another step towards the roof top. Instead of creaking loudly, it began to shift downwards. His eyes were glued onto the bolts that kept the fire escape attached to the roof. The poor man was afraid to even breathe, for any movement could have the whole thing collapse under his weight.

"Oliver, look at me," Eric tried.

He didn't move.

"Please, Oliver. Look at me," he begged.

Slowly, he looked up and met the eyes of his boyfriend. Eric was slowly working his way towards him, still unsure if he was still afraid of him. He didn't blame him at all. All that mattered now was getting Oliver to safety. Without a word, Eric gestured for him to try to take a step to the roof again.

The heart in Oliver's chest seemed to stop. He slowly nodded and went to take the step towards the roof top. A single loud creak escaped the structure before it began to fall. Oliver took a chance and jumped for the roof, catching the edge about a foot away from the roof top. Eric ran to the roof and knelt down and offered his hand to his boyfriend.

"Oliver, come on," Eric begged, "just take my hand."

"How do I know you're not gonna kill me?" Oliver exclaimed.

"Because I love you, that's why. Please, just trust me."

Taking a shot in the dark and hoping for the best, he quickly let go of the edge and grabbed his boyfriend's hand. Eric pulled Oliver up as he attempted to kick up his weight against the wall. Once he was on the roof top, Oliver fell forward and collapsed into Eric's arms. Eric cradled the back of Oliver's neck as he shoved his face deep into the crook of his shoulder.

"It's alright, you're okay," Eric soothed, "I won't let anything happen to you."

"I don't know you anymore…" Oliver's voice was muffled against his neck.

Eric sighed, "I know, I know. I'm sorry you had to find out like that… There is no doubt that I love you and will never hurt you."

"What about you?"

"What about me?"

"Are you going to stop?"

He didn't say anything. Oliver lifted his head and looked Eric in the eyes. His eyes screamed uncertainty. Oliver frowned.

"Eric, I don't want to see you get caught. Anything can happen to you. Go on the run from the police, jail," Oliver swallowed a lump that got caught in his throat, "death."

He let out a sigh, "You're right. You mean too much to me to risk something like that and hurt you."

"Will you stop?"

"Yes. I will." Eric nodded. "Only if you promise to help me clean up," he ended with a smile.

Oliver rolled his eyes, "No."

"Come on!"

"You made the mess, you clean it up."

"Lame."

"Let me know when it's all cleaned up. I don't want to see the state of our apartment right now, at all."

Eric groaned. "Okay, okay."

Oliver cracked a small smile finally. "Good boy. And I will take all of your 'toys' away from you. And as punishment for this, no sex for two weeks."

"You are a horrible person."

"So are you!" he retorted.

"Fair enough. So," Eric paused and gave him a sheepish smile, "forgive?"

Oliver rolled his eyes and smiled. He sighed, "forgive Now, go clean."

Eric nodded and kissed Oliver's forehead. "Okay, okay."

He headed to the door to the stairwell. Eric called behind him, "I love you!"

Oliver smiled, "I love you too."

And he meant it too. They both did. Eric would do anything for his lovely boyfriend.