Disclaimer: I do not own anything or anybody from Big Time Rush. I only own Andrew and the plot.
"We create monsters and then we can't control them."
The Game Called Death
Logan Mitchell ran as fast as he could from whatever was chasing him. His breath was jagged from running so much. He clutched his wounded arm with his good arm, hoping to stop the bleeding with the pressure from his hand.
Turning down an ally, Logan hid on the side of a garbage can, his back pressed hard against the cool, green metal. Logan's eyes adjusted to the dark of the ally while oxygen refilled his lungs. Once his breathing was normal and his brown eyes could see, Logan rolled up the sleeve of his jacket and examined the wound on his arm. It bled quickly and the wound itself was deep. Logan took off his jacket and ripped the sleeve off quickly and as quietly as possible. Then he tied it around his arm and began to think of a plan. He knew his attacker had been chasing after him, but Logan was unsure if he lost him. Logan knew he was in a beat down part of town; there would be no help around here. And he didn't dare pull out his cell phone. The glow it casted every time it was open in the dark was too risky.
Down the ally, Logan heard the slamming of metal and a lock being put into place. He heard a click and footsteps. Logan quickly covered his mouth with his hand, not wanting his breathing to be heard. His heart pounded so loudly in his ears that it was almost drowned out the sound of the footsteps that approached him.
"I know your here Logan. I know you like to play games. So why don't you come out and play with me?
Logan's attacker voice rang out in the empty, dark ally. The way he said Logan's name so coldly sent chills up Logan. Logan squeezed his eyes shut, wishing he could just disappear into the night.
"We can do this the easy way or the hard way. The easy way would be for you to go out right now and I could end your life quickly and painless. Or you can hide in the dark until I find you. Once I find you, I will tear you to shreds. You will be nothing once I'm done with you."
Logan remained in the shadows. He focused on happy thoughts of his friends and family. Where they wondering about him right now? Kendall, James, and Carlos were probably freaking out. He was supposed to be home over an hour ago. They were probably searching for him right now, yelling out his name into the night.
Then a hand shot out and ripped Logan out of the shadows. The hand lifted Logan into the air then slammed him down hard on his side. A bone in Logan's body made a horrible noise that caused Logan to scream out in pain.
Logan's attacker flipped Logan over onto his back. The man then dropped onto his knees, one on each side of Logan's body, and ripped open Logan's shirt, exposing his chest. Then the man pulled out a knife from his back pocket, the silver tip of the blade gleaming in the moonlight.
"You practically begged for the hard way, didn't you? Did you enjoy being stabbed in the arm, Logan? That was baby stuff. Wait till you see what I can really do."
The man took the tip of the knife and made a small little line. Logan winced in pain. The man made more tiny lines, smiling to himself every time Logan winced. The boy's pain was music to his ears. He wrote his name in blood across Logan's stomach. He whistled an old tune to himself as he worked away. Logan struggled, but the man pinned him down every time the brunette attempted to get up.
"Stop it!' Logan yelled into the night.
The man put his finger to Logan's lips and shushed him. He leaned down and put his lips right next to Logan's ear.
"You don't tell Andrew Ford to stop when he's in the middle of his work, got it?"
Logan gulped at the man's name. He heard his name every night on the news. Andrew Ford, a middle age male serial killer. He picked his victims off the street of Los Angles and tortured them on the spot till they begged for death. He had already killed twelve people and still managed to avoid law enforcement.
And Logan was going to be his thirteenth victim.
Logan closed his eyes as Andrew continued to cut Logan's skin. He wanted to disappear, to be swallowed by the shadows. He wanted to be anywhere but here. He bit his lip, not wanting to give Andrew the satisfaction he craved.
Andrew dragged the tip of his knife gently up Logan's chest and neck. Once he reached the base of the brunette's chin, Andrew made a deep cut across his jaw. Logan screamed in agony for what seemed like hours. He screamed again as Andrew moved his knife to his arm and cut down the whole length of his arm. Andrew's cuts became deeper and painfully while Logan's screams became quieter and quieter. Andrew took note of the boy's sudden quietness and began wondering if he killed him already. Tearing his green eyes away from the blood flowing out of the Logan's arm, Andrew looked at Logan's face to see if the light left his eyes.
Andrew sighed. He wanted to try something new with his victims. When he discovered that people can bleed to death, he decided to test it out on little Logan. Logan's breathing had become shallow and his eyes were closed. Andrew began to feel something he hadn't felt since he was a child.
He felt sympathy.
For the past several months, Andrew had played Death with twelve other people. But this boy, who was dying in front of his eyes, was different from his other victims. Andrew made another cut, this time on Logan's knee, hoping to get rid of the feeling of remorse that made his skin crawl. The blood he watched drizzle out of the boy's skin didn't make him feel any better.
Andrew made a long slash down Logan's other leg, wanting the crimson blood that flowed out to comfort him, to remind him what he was. That he was a serial killer, a madman, a monster. That he couldn't control what he did. That Andrew made himself what he was: a killer.
After Andrew dropped the knife covered in Logan's blood, he raised his fist high into the air and smashed it into the dying boy's stomach. Logan's eyes shot open and he gasped for air. Andrew grabbed Logan by the collar of his shirt and pulled him towards him, their faces mere inches apart.
"Why should I keep you alive, boy?" Andrew said roughly.
"Because I'm not done living my life yet." Logan said back, confidence clear in his voice.
Andrew wondered if he should accept Logan's answer for a couple minutes. Logan stared at Andrew the entire time, giving him the death stare.
"Not a good answer." Andrew said, a sinister smile working its way onto his face.
Andrew threw Logan back down to the ground. Andrew raised the knife over Logan's heart, and Logan closed his eyes not wanting the last thing he sees is the silver blade pierce his heart.
Outside the ally, the only thing heard was a blood curdling scream; the signal to many that death had came around to claim another life again.
So this is the first chapter of my new story. Tell me what you think in a review please?