Justin Bieber/Jason McCann Imagines | Book One

Blood Splatters

This one is a little bit more descriptive, I guess, than the other two. Is there still a need for a warning? I'm not sure. The majority of this piece is based on a scene from the movie American Psycho which, of course, this whole series is based on. I'll put a link at the end. Enjoy!💗

Sweat falls down my face and tickles my cheek but I continue to push myself off of the ground before lowering myself once more. Looking down at the ground, I can see the drops of sweat forming a tiny puddle.

My push ups are getting faster and faster while I'm listening to the screams coming from the TV to help drive me. I've forgotten what horror movie it is, but it's a scene that's fairly gruesome and I'm suddenly glad I stumbled upon it and recorded it the previous night.

I get faster while the screams get louder, I can hear a chainsaw in the background and I have to force myself to keep working out and not watch the screen.

I'm thankful for the fan in the corner of the room, brushing cool air across my back and keeping me from suffocating in the heat. I push to fourty and then fifty, all the way up to one hundred. Afterwards, with a stammering heart and a thick layer of sweat, I collapse to the floor. The screaming has quietened down but it's still there. I finally let myself watch from the floor.

There's blood and I stiffen, even after only just relaxing. Although, I've come to notice that blood in most horror movies looks nothing like it should. There's a knock at the door and I hesitate before getting to my feet with shaking limbs.

The door handle is cold and there's a speck of red splashed against the gold shine of it. I twist and pull, grateful for the cool air coming through the door.

"Good morning." A man stands in front of me, he looks around the same age as me, although I look better. "I wasn't sure if anyone actually lived here."

"Well, my car's right outside," I smile in a patronising way. "What can I do for you?"

"Actually, it's what I can do for you," he smirks and it irritates me. I muster up the strength to smile when I can feel a grimace poking through. "D'you mind if I take a look around? What you might-"

"That won't be necessary," I interrupt and rapidly close the door only slightly when I notice him walking forward.

He looks unsure but manages to continue smiling. ".. As I was saying, what you might not know is, there could be many reoccurring problems with your plumbing and with your gutters. It's a nice place you've got here, how much did you pay for it?"

"Well, that's none of your business and my plumbing is perfectly fine. If you'll excuse me-"

"What about your water? Any leaks? Blockages? Around forty-five per cent of houses had problems with their water last year-"

"Well, I was one of the lucky fifty-five per cent. Would you like to come in for a drink, Mr..?"

"Call me Jack."

I smile and pull the door open wide enough so he can walk inside, he doesn't seem to hesitate and I take a deep breath before closing the door behind him. I lock it and lead him into the kitchen. The movie is still playing on the TV.

"Vodka?" I ask, already pulling the bottle out of the cupboard. He watches me carefully as I grab two glasses and place them on the table in the centre.