Categories > Celebrities > Fall Out Boy > ... A Little More Kill Him
Feel better?” A mocking voice sounded behind him.
Pete turned, frowning; his eyes not even trying to disguise the contempt with which he held the owner.
“It won't last, you know… and, you do know, don't you, Wentz?”
“Fuck you, Spencer,” Pete pushed him back out of the way while he looked around to get his bearings. “I'm not interested in your opinion.”
Spencer laughed as Pete headed for the patrol car, checking it over quickly to see if it was still functional.
“It's not an opinion and you know it,” he replied flatly.
Brushing the broken glass off the driver's seat and forcing out what remained of the windshield, Pete climbed inside only to sigh in irritation as he glanced to his right as he noticed Spencer already sitting alongside him in the passenger seat - uninvited and unwelcome.
“Get out!” he yelled harshly, extending his arm to shove at the older vampire.
“I'm not going anywhere,” Spencer snapped back, batting away Pete's arm with surprising ease. “You're not the only one who has a score to settle with Beckett, you know!”
Pete pulled sharply out into traffic, not even bothering to look. Even despite the late hour, he heard the screech of brakes behind him as he took to the road, smirking to himself that nobody dared sound their horn at a patrol car - certainly not in this town, not if they valued their lives. Setting off at almost twice the speed allowable by the limit, he headed to the office district.
“Just stay out of my way,” he finally growled at Spencer as he pulled the seatbelt across his body, fastening it carefully.
“Stay out of your way!” Spencer replied with a sinister chuckle. “Listen to me, Wentz, the only reason you have a problem with Beckett is because of your pathetic sense of melodrama!” Changing his voice to a higher pitched whine, he continued: “Poor you! Turned into a vampire against your will.” Dropping his voice several tones back to his normal voice, he took on a harsher, angry edge. “Well, boo hoo! Do you think anyone jumps up and down and shouts `Hey! Bite me! Bite me!'? But you know what? Most of us… no, strike that… everyone except you simply accepts it, embraces it, enjoys it. We don't walk around whining and crying! You have no reason for revenge! Beckett made you strong with his special treatment of you, you should be thanking him!”
As Spencer continued his tirade, Pete's fingers curled tighter and tighter around the steering wheel. His knuckles white, jaw tightly clenched and his dark eyes glowering with fury. If there was one thing of which he was certain, it was that he did not appreciate Spencer's lecture.
“Me?” Spencer continued. “I was left for dead, condemned to an eternity without blood, unable to move, unable to do anything but think and eventually go mad with hunger. Beckett tried to destroy me and now, I want the same for him, but I'm going to make sure no one can ever rescue him. You! The only reason you're still rejecting what you are is your continued pathetic refusal to drink human blood, but that's all changing now isn't it?” he turned a sly glance towards Pete, now rigid and reddening with anger. “You're addicted now,” he laughed again. “There's no going back, it's only a matter of time before you lose yourself completely.”
Without a hint of a warning, Pete slammed both feet hard on the brake, bringing the car to a screeching and skidding halt bumping up onto the sidewalk and almost turning over as it hit. Thrown forward, despite being prepared for the sudden stop, Pete suffered a minor burn from the seatbelt, but it paled into insignificance as his mouth curled up in vengeful delight as he watched Spencer propelled at great speed through the missing windshield. Relishing watching him bounce and roll down the centre of the road into oncoming traffic, Pete threw the car into reverse, before rejoining the road and continuing his journey.
“I feel better now I've lost you completely,” he muttered to himself angrily, resisting the temptation to contact Patrick in case Beckett had regained control of his thoughts. The very last thing he wanted was to give away his approach.
*
“Wait!” Andy shouted as he pulled up outside the Mayor's office and Joe was already outside the car and heading for the door.
“Wait for what?” Joe turned on his friend. “Wait for what, Andy?” he snapped.
“Me,” came the quiet reply.
“Oh!” Joe felt foolish and mean. “Sorry.”
“Yeah.” Andy sighed heavily. “S'ok, I actually do understand, you know. Come on, let's find her, but carefully, yeah?”
*
“Master,” Mike addressed Beckett as he wiped the blood from his mouth with the back of his hand. “The hunters are nearby.”
Beckett mused thoughtfully over his words before finally nodding, his decision made.
“Brendon,” he paused briefly, “I don't want them realising, at least for the moment, that we live here. Move the girl somewhere they'll find her easily enough.”
“William?” Brendon frowned.
It felt deeply wrong to question his master, but more so again to free the human. But one glance at Beckett's cruel smirk told him that he had never intended for it to be so simple a job for them.
“I sense your concern, my dear, Brendon and you needn't be so worried. Before you leave the girl, I want you to drain her within an inch of her life.”
Brendon remained frowning. “You don't want her dead?”
Beckett smiled to himself. For all his brutality and sadistic tendencies, Brendon had a lot to learn about pure cruelty.
“No, my friend,” Beckett shook his head. “Tell me, what is the best way to hurt a human emotionally?”
“Take something they love away,” Brendon replied immediately, his tone filled with absolute certainty.
“No,” Beckett smiled, for the moment happy to be Brendon's teacher again. “You're close, so close. And you're right, that would definitely hurt them, but there is something even crueller.”
“What?” Brendon asked, stepping forward, keen to hear the wisest of words from the master of cruelty and ruthlessness.
Beckett allowed a slow smile to spread across his face.
“Joseph adores Miss Logan, does he not?”
“Yeah… but…”
Beckett held his hand up, instantly silencing Brendon as he went on to explain:
“Joseph wants nothing more than to have his beloved returned to him safe and sound. If he were to find her dead, he would be angry, upset, defiant… in short, he would mourn and vow revenge.”
Brendon stared back; still puzzled and uncertain where all this was leading.
“But what if he finds her at deaths door? What if he has a choice to make? Allow Peter to turn her and risking her turning evil or slowly watching her die?”
Brendon looked up, staring into his master's eyes, filled with the wicked gleam only found when an idea is truly understood and appreciated.
“Whatever decision he makes, he's torn apart!” Brendon stood in awe and appreciation of his master's truly evil intention. By bringing Andrea to the verge of death, whatever outcome could only hurt Joe and whatever he chose, it would be, could only be, his decision.
“Destroy him, Brendon.” Beckett gloated triumphantly. “Make him wish he was dead. Who knows, maybe we'll get our wish?”
“Yes, master!” Brendon replied enthusiastically before setting off back to where they had left her; he himself wishing that he had seen the potential for harm.
“Michael,” Beckett smiled in malicious satisfaction. “We will set out our new administration to bring down the hunters.”
*
“Whatever you do,” Pete advised, “keep your mind on anything except me. I can get you out of here, but not if they come looking.”
Inside the vault, Patrick concentrated hard on trying to find a weakness in the door, to stretch within the confines of the tiny space, to try to contact Pete, to curse Beckett… in fact anything and everything that he had been doing prior to Pete's arrival. It was imperative that Beckett, Brendon and Mike remained in the dark and didn't even suspect that he might be there. It would be too hard to keep the illusion going for more than the few minutes it would take for Beckett to realise he was being tricked. Pete would have to hurry if he were to stand the remotest chance of freeing Patrick.
Pete turned, frowning; his eyes not even trying to disguise the contempt with which he held the owner.
“It won't last, you know… and, you do know, don't you, Wentz?”
“Fuck you, Spencer,” Pete pushed him back out of the way while he looked around to get his bearings. “I'm not interested in your opinion.”
Spencer laughed as Pete headed for the patrol car, checking it over quickly to see if it was still functional.
“It's not an opinion and you know it,” he replied flatly.
Brushing the broken glass off the driver's seat and forcing out what remained of the windshield, Pete climbed inside only to sigh in irritation as he glanced to his right as he noticed Spencer already sitting alongside him in the passenger seat - uninvited and unwelcome.
“Get out!” he yelled harshly, extending his arm to shove at the older vampire.
“I'm not going anywhere,” Spencer snapped back, batting away Pete's arm with surprising ease. “You're not the only one who has a score to settle with Beckett, you know!”
Pete pulled sharply out into traffic, not even bothering to look. Even despite the late hour, he heard the screech of brakes behind him as he took to the road, smirking to himself that nobody dared sound their horn at a patrol car - certainly not in this town, not if they valued their lives. Setting off at almost twice the speed allowable by the limit, he headed to the office district.
“Just stay out of my way,” he finally growled at Spencer as he pulled the seatbelt across his body, fastening it carefully.
“Stay out of your way!” Spencer replied with a sinister chuckle. “Listen to me, Wentz, the only reason you have a problem with Beckett is because of your pathetic sense of melodrama!” Changing his voice to a higher pitched whine, he continued: “Poor you! Turned into a vampire against your will.” Dropping his voice several tones back to his normal voice, he took on a harsher, angry edge. “Well, boo hoo! Do you think anyone jumps up and down and shouts `Hey! Bite me! Bite me!'? But you know what? Most of us… no, strike that… everyone except you simply accepts it, embraces it, enjoys it. We don't walk around whining and crying! You have no reason for revenge! Beckett made you strong with his special treatment of you, you should be thanking him!”
As Spencer continued his tirade, Pete's fingers curled tighter and tighter around the steering wheel. His knuckles white, jaw tightly clenched and his dark eyes glowering with fury. If there was one thing of which he was certain, it was that he did not appreciate Spencer's lecture.
“Me?” Spencer continued. “I was left for dead, condemned to an eternity without blood, unable to move, unable to do anything but think and eventually go mad with hunger. Beckett tried to destroy me and now, I want the same for him, but I'm going to make sure no one can ever rescue him. You! The only reason you're still rejecting what you are is your continued pathetic refusal to drink human blood, but that's all changing now isn't it?” he turned a sly glance towards Pete, now rigid and reddening with anger. “You're addicted now,” he laughed again. “There's no going back, it's only a matter of time before you lose yourself completely.”
Without a hint of a warning, Pete slammed both feet hard on the brake, bringing the car to a screeching and skidding halt bumping up onto the sidewalk and almost turning over as it hit. Thrown forward, despite being prepared for the sudden stop, Pete suffered a minor burn from the seatbelt, but it paled into insignificance as his mouth curled up in vengeful delight as he watched Spencer propelled at great speed through the missing windshield. Relishing watching him bounce and roll down the centre of the road into oncoming traffic, Pete threw the car into reverse, before rejoining the road and continuing his journey.
“I feel better now I've lost you completely,” he muttered to himself angrily, resisting the temptation to contact Patrick in case Beckett had regained control of his thoughts. The very last thing he wanted was to give away his approach.
*
“Wait!” Andy shouted as he pulled up outside the Mayor's office and Joe was already outside the car and heading for the door.
“Wait for what?” Joe turned on his friend. “Wait for what, Andy?” he snapped.
“Me,” came the quiet reply.
“Oh!” Joe felt foolish and mean. “Sorry.”
“Yeah.” Andy sighed heavily. “S'ok, I actually do understand, you know. Come on, let's find her, but carefully, yeah?”
*
“Master,” Mike addressed Beckett as he wiped the blood from his mouth with the back of his hand. “The hunters are nearby.”
Beckett mused thoughtfully over his words before finally nodding, his decision made.
“Brendon,” he paused briefly, “I don't want them realising, at least for the moment, that we live here. Move the girl somewhere they'll find her easily enough.”
“William?” Brendon frowned.
It felt deeply wrong to question his master, but more so again to free the human. But one glance at Beckett's cruel smirk told him that he had never intended for it to be so simple a job for them.
“I sense your concern, my dear, Brendon and you needn't be so worried. Before you leave the girl, I want you to drain her within an inch of her life.”
Brendon remained frowning. “You don't want her dead?”
Beckett smiled to himself. For all his brutality and sadistic tendencies, Brendon had a lot to learn about pure cruelty.
“No, my friend,” Beckett shook his head. “Tell me, what is the best way to hurt a human emotionally?”
“Take something they love away,” Brendon replied immediately, his tone filled with absolute certainty.
“No,” Beckett smiled, for the moment happy to be Brendon's teacher again. “You're close, so close. And you're right, that would definitely hurt them, but there is something even crueller.”
“What?” Brendon asked, stepping forward, keen to hear the wisest of words from the master of cruelty and ruthlessness.
Beckett allowed a slow smile to spread across his face.
“Joseph adores Miss Logan, does he not?”
“Yeah… but…”
Beckett held his hand up, instantly silencing Brendon as he went on to explain:
“Joseph wants nothing more than to have his beloved returned to him safe and sound. If he were to find her dead, he would be angry, upset, defiant… in short, he would mourn and vow revenge.”
Brendon stared back; still puzzled and uncertain where all this was leading.
“But what if he finds her at deaths door? What if he has a choice to make? Allow Peter to turn her and risking her turning evil or slowly watching her die?”
Brendon looked up, staring into his master's eyes, filled with the wicked gleam only found when an idea is truly understood and appreciated.
“Whatever decision he makes, he's torn apart!” Brendon stood in awe and appreciation of his master's truly evil intention. By bringing Andrea to the verge of death, whatever outcome could only hurt Joe and whatever he chose, it would be, could only be, his decision.
“Destroy him, Brendon.” Beckett gloated triumphantly. “Make him wish he was dead. Who knows, maybe we'll get our wish?”
“Yes, master!” Brendon replied enthusiastically before setting off back to where they had left her; he himself wishing that he had seen the potential for harm.
“Michael,” Beckett smiled in malicious satisfaction. “We will set out our new administration to bring down the hunters.”
*
“Whatever you do,” Pete advised, “keep your mind on anything except me. I can get you out of here, but not if they come looking.”
Inside the vault, Patrick concentrated hard on trying to find a weakness in the door, to stretch within the confines of the tiny space, to try to contact Pete, to curse Beckett… in fact anything and everything that he had been doing prior to Pete's arrival. It was imperative that Beckett, Brendon and Mike remained in the dark and didn't even suspect that he might be there. It would be too hard to keep the illusion going for more than the few minutes it would take for Beckett to realise he was being tricked. Pete would have to hurry if he were to stand the remotest chance of freeing Patrick.
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