American Psycho: Redux ((Axwell x Trovale))

[Axwell]

It was as if there existed an OFF-ON switch in him; one that had laid dormant in its place at the OFF position for twenty five years, had suddenly flicked to ON.

There were no symptoms to outwardly tell the change: no tremors, no eye twitches, no abnormal quirks. It was almost as if his brain had cracked in half, spilling cerebral fluid into the most important and sane parts of his brain and drowning out his ability to be content with a mediocre life.

So Wes sat now at the corner booth of the Creegan's Pub and Restaurant, drumming his fingers at the end of the table and wiping the blonde hair from his sweaty brow every now and then. His legs were spread and bent beneath the squat tables. An unfortunate consequence of being six foot two and crammed in a single's table. The dinner before him- medium steak strips paired with eggs- was untouched.

He wasn't there to eat, he was there to watch.

A bell at the entrance chimed. Two girls, a blonde and a redhead entered but one glance (a near indiscernible flick of his baby blues) was enough to know they weren't ones he was going for. And besides, he wasn't interested in taking two – he wasn't even sure he was capable of kidnapping two girls. So he sliced into the rubbery cold eggs and kept waiting.

 

[Trovale]

Lynn walked into the Bar and Pub, scanning the place for any familiar faces. Seeing none, she walked up to a bar stool and took a seat. She hadn't originally felt like having a drink, but after breaking up with her first long time boyfriend, she decided she earned to let loose, even for a moment. While signaling for a beer, she simultaneously pulled her long blonde hair to the side and secured it with an elastic.

Eventually a beer was passed to Lynn and she paid for it. She sat, nursing her drink and gazing at the grain of the wood.

 

[Axwell]

Cling cling.

At the sound of the bell, he responded like a Pavlov dog and looked up. The bite of runny egg had only just slid past his back molars and down his throat before it wedged itself. Blonde hair, angelic face, slender body that would thrash like a crazed tempest beneath his palms.

Perfection.

Wes choked and swallowed hard, his adam's apple rising and dipping, before setting his fork neatly by the side of his plate. Now was his chance. His face blanched momentarily as he hoped he wouldn't screw up. Taking a sip of water, he stood and brushed the wrinkles from his gray t-shirt.

He crossed over to where the girl sat - the third swinging bar seat from the left. His face was set in a smile, the kind of smile reserved usually for bosses and parents of a girl you're dating-then tilted his head and spoke to her.

"Mind if I take this seat?"

 

[Trovale]

Lynn noted the guy's smile while taking a swig from her drink.

"Go ahead." She responded dryly. "I don't own the place." She wasn't sure what he wanted. Chances were, he'd try to hit on her. Lynn glanced at the man next to her from the corners of her almost grey eyes. He was pretty attractive, just her type. She pulled down her shirt a little, without thinking about it, exposing the tops of her breasts.

"What's your name?" She asked, turning to the man.

 

[Axwell]

Even without the invitation, he would have made himself at home. As it was, Wes just nodded and sunk his weight on the creaking stool beside her before giving the bartender an order for a whiskey neat. It was in his hand before he could take his eyes off her and he took a slow gulp, never breaking eye contact.

"We- Trent," he covered quickly. Trent was his buddy's name, and he probably wouldn't mind. Not unless they found the girl's body in a trash can and somehow the bartender remembered his name.

He mentally waved the thought away. "Meeting someone? A girl as pretty as you couldn't be alone."

 

[Trovale]

"Nice to meet you Trent." she said. "I'm Lynn." she offered back, noticing how the man seemed to stare. Lynn didn't mind it though. It had been a while since a man had paid any sort of attention to her.

Lynn downed the rest of her drink when Trent reminded her why she was here.

"No, I'm not waiting for anyone." She said quietly, motioning to the bartender for another beer. "And I'm really not that pretty." Lynn said, putting herself down like most women tend to do. She sat, avoiding eye contact with Trent by looking at her pink colored nails that she had painted just last night.

When the bartender finally brought her another drink, she popped the top of and took a sip before turning to Trent. "What about you? Are you waiting for someone?"

 

[Axwell]

"Lynn," he smiled wolfishly, letting the name caress his tongue. It was attractive in its simplicity - his collection of ex's had very ordinary names: Sally, Jane, Hannah, and he could admit he had gotten easily bored of saying them in bed.

Speaking of beds, he could vividly see her in his. His right hand itched to circle the base of her blond ponytail, yank it back and up as he teased the head of his cock along her wet slit.

But Wes gave nothing away of his thoughts away and listened to her voice, noting how melodic it was before frowning at her self deprecating comment. Why did women do that? Kill a compliment; was it supposedly an act of humility? Or self doubt? Known for his eyes never missing a thing, he followed her sight to her hands, realizing that must be it: a lack of self confidence.

"My friend just bailed on me," he shrugged. His mind moved quickly, brain cogs spinning at mach five: what would be a harmless way to get her alone? "I have two free passes to see a movie if you'd like to accompany me? It's at a theater on the next block."

Wes smiled and nearly wanted to hug himself for his quick improvisation. A movie – genius. Often, victims will think about how packed a theater is and be comforted by the small possibility of anything happening with such a large crowd as witness. They willingly ignore the vulnerable process it takes to get from point A (bar) to point B (theater).

You had to love that about humanity – the want to trust anybody in the case of loneliness.

 

[Trovale]

Lynn chuckled. "I bet he ditched you for some lonely girl he found sitting at the bar, right?" She glanced over to Trent. She was glad for the company, and attractive company at that.

When he asked her to go see a movie, Lynn was pleasantly surprised. Most men would have tried to get her tipsy before asking her to their home. Instead, Trent asked her to a movie. 'Perhaps not all men are so terrible' Lynn thought to herself.

And the theatre was a public place, so there was no forseeable danger.

"Fine. I'll go with you. But you'll have to drive. I've had too much to drink to legally drive." She smiled at him and slid off of the barstool. Grabbing her purse, she pulled out enough cash to throw on the bar to pay for her drink.

"And do you think you could drop me off near my place afterwards?"

 

[Axwell]

The nervous sweat on the nape of his neck was starting to cool. This might just be easier than he expected. Wes was sure he'd have to get another drink or two in her, maybe pull through a conversation of something irrelevant or another before she'd even consider going anywhere with him, but no. Her body rose gracefully from the worn cushion and he was pretty surprised about her daring.

“Of course,” he replied courteously to his having to drive.

Before she left, his mother had made it a grave sin for a girl to drive him around and it stuck in his head. He wouldn't have it any other way. By reflex, he slid her bills from the counter and handed it back to her, saying, “It's on me.”

Retrieving two bills from his wallet, he dropped them on the counter and paused, staring down at the money. What was he doing? Treating a girl that he was planning to kidnap like it was a date? Wes's eyes fell shut and he ground his teeth together; a part of him wanted to take her on the date he promised, movie and popcorn and laughing while getting to know each other, but another part (a terrifying part) knew that those things just weren't enough for him.

But he pressed a smile back into his face and turned to Lynn. “Ready?”

He led her out the door and guided her down the street. He planned to turn her down a deserted side street, but he needed to check that there wasn't anyone around first. “So where are you from?” he asked, looking around and trying to set her mind at ease.

 

[Trovale]

Lynn took back her bills with a slight blush. Obviously, this man was more of a gentleman than the usual men who frequented bars.

She had met her last boyfriend at a bar, and he hadn't offered to pay for her drinks. Perhaps all of her heartache could have been avoided, she thought, if she had taken note of these things.

But no matter how kind he acted now, this man was probably only trying to get in her pants, she mused. Lynn kept reminding herself of this as she walked out the door and down the street with Trent. She would just catch a free movie with a handsome stranger to help forget her old boyfriend.

Just as she was thinking this, he asked her where she was from.

"Me? I'm just from the next town over." She replied. "I figured I'd try out a new crowd, new bar. You from around here?"

 

[Axwell]

To tell the truth, Wes wasn't from around here at all. He lived exactly 23.677 miles away in the small and mundane town of Warren. The distance was important – it was harder for someone to track him if he didn't frequent the town a lot. Nothing really happened in Warren: people moved in, raised kids, kids moved out, parents moved out, and the whole cycle began again with new generations of different people. Et cetera, et cetera. If they had been truly trying to get to know each other he doubted he would have told her where he really came from.

They made their way over to his car and he stole a quick glance at the surroundings. There was a couple walking leisurely hand in hand by the corner but they would cross soon.

“Hold on for a second, gotta find my keys,” Wes explained. He began to pat his palms hastily over his pants pockets (knowing full well that they were in the left pocket, under his wallet) just to kill time.

His patience was reaching a delicate state when the couple decided to break from a kiss and finally turn the corner. Wes sighed in frustrated relief. He smiled at Lynn again and took a step toward her, backing her between himself and the car. It would appear to any passerby that he was leaning for a kiss, but she would know better.

His hand rose and brushed her blonde hair from her face - a sweet gesture. Then the thin edge of a switchblade held in the opposite hand was pressed to the curve of her neck. His head was angled to set it in shadow, his face barely an inch from her's. “You're going to do everything I say.” He whispered in a soft, almost seductive tone. “Or I'll slice right through your carotid. Understand?”

 

[Trovale]

The smile on Lynn's face dropped a little when Trent trapped her between himself and the vehicle, and completely disappeared when he pulled out the weapon. 'Gentleman, her ass.' Lynn thought to herself. She tried to recoil away from the cold steel in her throat, but of course she was stuck between a hard place and a... Person.

"what do you want?" she asked, not even bothering to answer him. "If it's money you're after, you've targeted the wrong person. I haven't got more than twenty dollars on me." Lynn stared him down, glaring into his bright blue eyes. She wouldn't let herself get pushed around because some guy tricked her. She could deal with a little pain. He could just try to break her and see where that got him.

 

[Axwell]

The second her eyes caught the blade, she began to fidget, shaking like mad, trying desperately to escape the radius of the weapon, but he held her fast. Wes shook his head and the emptiness behind his blue eyes became more apparent.

“If I wanted money, I would have robbed a bank.” He laughed, and the sound came out like a hyena's, high pitched and chilling.

“So what could you possibly have that I want?” he asked rhetorically, the hysteria in his voice winding faster and faster. “What does a woman have that a man doesn't?”

To answer, he slammed her head back on the car and her skull made a dull thunk. She slid against his driver door and crouching, Wes caught her, balancing her over his shoulder before he stood upright. The alarm on his sedan began to whine but he withdrew his keys quickly and clicked it off. A quick scan of the street confirmed its emptiness and he had to shake his head.

Were most crimes this easy?

He began to laugh at himself as he loaded the unconscious girl in his passenger seat and sunk into the driver's side. The rock station began to blast when he started the car up and glanced at her sleeping form wondering if he could really do this – kidnap someone. Her death was inevitable because there was no way she wouldn't run to the cops if he took her back to his place.

Wes shook his head and reversed. He put the car into drive, pulling away from the town and speeding onto the highway ramp back home before he could change his mind.

<< >>

Time: 10:00 PM
Location: Wes's basement, 88 Eldridge St, Warren

He ticked off his mental list: the ropes around her wrist was tight enough (years being an eagle scout insured that); she was more than six feet away from the nearest window; the windows were all boarded up from the inside and blacked out to prevent nosy neighbors from getting into his business; he had the girl.

Wes paced the floor before dropping to his haunches and sitting indian-style before Lynn. She was propped against the wall and looked pretty comfortable, with the exception of the carpet steadily being stained under her from her head wound. He smiled pleasantly at her and his head leaned to the side, “I think this is better than a movie.”

 

[Trovale]

The sound of his high pitched laugh grated on Lynn's frightened ears. She didn't know what to do. There was no reason to scream. Nobody was within sight, and the chance of getting her throat slit seemed awfully high to risk that.

And when he began to tell her what he wanted from her, she began to panic. He didnt want money... Her mind instantly jumped to conclusions. Rape, murder, some sick fetishes. Lynn began to get light headed and her vision faded a bit from the sheer amount of stress her body was under. But then, as Trent finally told her what he wanted- that which a man does not have- he slammed her head into the door, knocking her out cold.

<<>>

Lynn laid on what felt like a carpeted floor as she listened to someone- Trent probably- walk around. When she first had woken up, she remembered Immediatly what had occured. But already Lynn felt that trying to escape was futile, she could feel ropes tied tight around her wrists. She had nothing else to do but open he eyes.

When she did, she was met with the cool blue eyes of her captor.

"Is your name even Trent?" Lynn asked.

 

[Axwell]

Her logic against leaving somewhere with a stranger was off, but her common sense to the situation seemed to be working well. “No, it isn't. But what does that matter?”

And what did it matter really? She wasn't going to live to see the day, not after he was done using her for what he wanted, so what did it matter if she knew his real name or not? He leaned toward her. A regret that he didn't clean up her head wound did pester him – it was unattractive and drew away from her beauty.

His hand reached into his back pocket again to retrieve the switch blade. Then he stood and yanked her up with him before walking around to face her back. Wes brought the knife up, tracing the edge of her chin with the blade. “If you move, I will cut your face from your skull,” he whispered, “understand?”

The blade made its way down her neck toward her clothes and he began to cut through her shirt. Wes closed the fingers of his other hand over her neck, securing her against him. An upward slice and her bra collapsed to her feet. He sighed to see her breasts fall free. “Fuck,” he breathed. Hard since the second he stood behind her, his cock strained against his pants and pushed against her back. The hold on her neck was released as he reached down and caressed her breasts, squeezing one and stroking the base of his thumb over its nipple to make it hard.

The blade began to work at the elastic of her skirt and soon it fell to join her bra and torn shirt. Moving it back and forth, he stroked the blade over his panties as if he was whetting the blade on her cunt. The steel came away damp and he smiled. “Does this turn you on, you little whore?”

 

[Trovale]

Lynn didn't know what to do. Sure, if she were to fight him when he was weaponless, she would have a chance at escaping. But he had that knife, and she was tied up. And she had that wound on her head now... "Trent" was definitely not what she had first expected. He hadn't even bothered to clean that wound that he had created on the back of her head.

When "Trent" yanked her up, Lynn knew what was coming. He had already told her earlier what he wanted from her... And she could feel something poking her from behind. And she didn't want it to happen, but something deep in her yearning for something....

"Trent" cut her bra from her and her breasts fell free. Already she could feel her nipples harden from the cold air. She squirmed against him, but she knew that there was nothing she could do to get away from him or his attentions.

"Let go of me" she growled as he cut away her skirt. But then he roughly played with her nipples.
She bit back a moan as he did that, but was unable to completely hide her slight arousal as he rubbed the blade on her most private of parts.

"What sick freak would like this?" she groaned in response to his question. Of course, she apoeared to be that sick freak. "Let go" she repeated. In response to the blade rubbing her, she accidentally bucked backwards into "Trents" crotch.

 

[Axwell]

His tongue pushed past his lips to receive the blade when he brought it up to taste her juices. He gave one long lick from the base of the blade to its tip. She assaulted his nostrils with a virgin musk and he swallowed, smiling. Her wetness tasted good, sweet in a dulled sense.

The blade traveled down her body again and looped under the strap of her lacy thong. He cut through it as easily as if he were slicing through butter and she was left standing before him, naked and shaking. Wes trailed his fingers through her wet folds and groaned into her hair. Any demands for release fell on deaf ears. Her clit was a rosy bud and he pinched it between two fingers before rolling it slowly. Wes sighed in appreciation. It was hard to take hold of, it was so wet.

Rock hard, his cock strained against denim and threatened to rip his pants. He began to circle his fingers over her swollen clit. She could refused him all she wanted to, but her body so clearly begged for a hard, rough fucking. Without a word, Wes threw her to the ground and she landed on all fours with a hard thud.

He pulled at the top button and undid his jeans. His erection sprung free from its prison and Wes spat onto his hand to lubricate the head. The knife wielding hand rested on her back and he forced her head to the floor so that her round ass was in the air. “So firm,” he murmured aloud, kneading her backside with his free hand.

He pumped his shaft twice and rubbed his swollen head against her wet slit. Lynn was beginning to drip, her juices slid down his aching shaft. Small puddles formed under her pussy. “Look how wet you are, you little slut. You love to be fucked hard by big cocks, don't you?”

 

[Trovale]

Lynn held her breath as the blade was removed from her pussy, hoping he would put away the blade. But he again brought it down to cut off her thong, the measly scrap of cloth that had protect her from him.

"Please, don't. Just... Just let me go!" she begged, as his hand began touching her pussy and he buried his face into her hair. It all felt so good, but she didn't want this to happen, she didn't want him to touch her with his hard penis that she felt poking her from behind. Then the man started to play with and pinch her clit, and Lynn couldn't help the flow of wetness that pooled between her legs.

"Ah! Please, stop!" She didn't want him to think she wanted it, she didn't want it, she thought, despite what her body was saying.

Suddenly the man pushed her and he landed on the ground hard enough to bring tears to her eyes. She stayed there for a moment, stunned, before he forced her head to the ground with his knife wielding hand. She sat there, vulnerable, waiting for his next move, when his began to slide the head of his cock on the lips of her pussy. Lynn had to hold in a moan. Her body wanted him so bad, but she wanted to run away...

Lynn didn't say anything to his taunting. She couldn't say she wasn't wet; they both could see it. And to say that her body didn't love rough fucks was a lie. So she waited, trembling, for him to make his move.