Alright, so this is my first attempt at a fanfic so please be gentle, that being said please don't refrain from commenting. I would love some constructive criticism. This is based on the movie The Final Girland will make no sense unless that is watched first. Alternatively the point in which this splits off is near the end and loosely borrows from concepts such as Suicide Squad, Kingsmen, and Dollhouse. Very loosely. Enjoy and I own none of the characters, but the plot is mine.

Chapter 1

I watch as the tears stream down his face as his eyes dart about widely on some spector behind me. His screams cut through the air and down to my very core. I fight though a twisted sense of satisfaction and make myself acknowledge his humanity, however sparse it may be; they had made it seem so natural, their bloodlust for human misery. It reminded me of what Jameson had said earlier, something about how even though something has to die it did not have to suffer. I wonder if he truly believed that, if the girls that he killed before had not suffered. Or if he believed that they did not have to suffer, but he just wanted them too.

A new tone overtook his panicked cries, true terror cutting deep to my soul. His eyes cried out for release and I saw him try to get away. His feet slip and I hold my breath, giving the moment the solemnity it deserved, the loss of a life, no matter how psychotic.

A gunshot rings out, and the rope that should have snapped Jameson's neck goes slack; he falls to the ground shaking and sobbing. I whirl around, hands at the ready and feet planted solidly in the mud to view the new threat. William stands there seemingly impassively, though I can see the frustration and anger hidden in his eyes.

"Is there a problem?" I inquire, not knowing in the slightest what he could want me to do, I had almost finished the assignment and had done all he asked.

"We have to take him in, he has been labeled a possible asset," he replies. "Take his car and meet me back at the hotel. Do what you have to, but keep him alive."

I stand speechless as his back disappears into the woods. I slowly turn, my new orders sinking in and find Jameson right where I left him, twitching on the ground in a fetal position, hiccups cutting through the sobs occasionally. I mechanically walk forward, fighting the rage and desperation and the little voice in my head that is telling me to just kill him anyway.

His earlier words cut through the fog surrounding my brain, 'Or… we could get married?' How was I supposed to just take him in? He was psychotic. He had killed 20 girls before trying to kill me. I had seen no shred of any semblance of humanity from his this entire time. And now he was labeled an asset? Who in their right mind though he had any use? He was going to be a constantly loose cannon, needing constant supervision. It was going to be a waste of resources and manpower.

Unbidden, the episode of my worst nightmare came to the forefront of my mind.

Knowing what he was experiencing was making me feel sorry for him, but if I was going to survive kidnapping him then I was going to have to be on my toes. Shaking my head, I crept towards him, unsure of what he was seeing. He saw my dirty, bloody feet and flinched away.

"Seems like it's your lucky day," I grind out unwillingly. He looks up at me with glassy eyed confusion. I can't help but to relate. I seem to be quite confused myself, though I'd be crazy if I ever let that show. I grab the collar of his shirt roughly and haul him up, he is compliant enough, for the moment just blissfully still alive probably. How long could that last?

It seems like no time at all and we are back at his car, but I know it has to have been a long time because the hallucinogenic wore off. He looks calculating, curious, but most worrisome of all: satisfied. He looks like he just pulled off the greatest long con in history and its driving me up the figurative wall. I want to push him off a cliff, beat that smirk off his face, castrate him. I want to pump him full of the poison that's in my other hand and watch him look death in the eyes again. I breathe shakily, attempting to control my instinct to disobey and kill this worthless waste of oxygen. He lets out a small chuckle, apparently knowing of my frustration, if not its origins. His smirk slowly pulls into a full-blown traffic-stopping smile and I almost snap.

I push him against the car door and he just stares at me through his eyelashes in that same self-satisfied way that threatens to make me feel like I'm the smallest person on the planet. "Keys," I demand, desperately wishing that my anger and confusion were not making it so hard to play this one cool.

"Of course princess," he teases and his hands slip into his pocket and then into my outstretched hand, far too familiar for someone who tried to kill me only hours ago. I smile serenely back and punch him as hard as I can in his groin. I'm rewarded by his reflexive gasp and doubling over, and finish the job by pulling him by the neck down and kneeing him in between the eyes. His unconscious body drops to the ground next to me and I ask myself for the hundredth time that night why I couldn't just kill him as I load his body into the trunk. I smile as I see duct tape in the corner and go the extra mile, just for my sanity.

Slamming the trunk closed I slide into the driver's seat and make my way back along the road, anger simmering as I think what the agency could want with someone as twisted as Jameson.

Again, this is my first attempt at a fanfic, so please go easy on me. RR please! I want to know if you all want more?