Mr. Insanity|Andy Biersack Fanfic

*Also on Wattpad & Quotev*

"I'll see you dead, Andrew."

"I'm sure you will, Charlotte, my dear." He smirks, "Just not today."
Two serial killer psychos loose. A detective hellbent on revenge. Secrets yet to be discovered. It doesn't get any more twisted than this.


8. Psychos (Don't) Love Too

A/N: Chapter song Scream by New Years Day


*Present day*

(Cat's POV)

Quickly I ball my fist and try to punch him. Try being the operative word. He grabs me around my wrists, he holds it tightly, making me feel weak against him. I bring my head back, and before he can do anything, I slam my forehead into his nose and mouth. He lets go of me, my head pounds painfully with dull aches caused by my headbutting him. Blood starts to run from his nose and a small amount also runs from a small split in his lower lip.

Taking his thumb he wipes some of the blood from his nose to examine it. He looks at it for a moment, then a devilish smirk fills his lips, "Naughty, naughty," he wags his finger as if scolding a child. He reaches for me and I strike out at him with my knife making a deep cut along his sharp cheekbone. He stands defiantly, a smug look still crowning his bleeding face. "Do you even know who I am?" He says challengingly, his voice ringing off the empty walls.

I look at him while twiddling with the end of my hair with one hand, I grasp the knife, now dripping with his blood, in the other. I look at him, a perplexed look founded firmly on my face. "A son of a bitch?"

That was it. As far as he was concerned that was the head shrinker that broke the psycho's back. He charged at me full speed, his glowering look became a look of utter hatred.

"Oh, fuck shit!" I exclaim as his body hits into mine with enough force to knock me off my feet. I roll over onto my stomach in an attempt to scurry away from him. He kicks the large knife from my hand, he climbs over my back. He grabs ahold of one side of my ponytails (Or bunches) and yanks it roughly. I don't make a sound, which is not what he expected and it displeases him. He wraps my hair around his hand and wrist to get better leverage, then while having one knee dug into my spine he rips it back with what feels like nearly all his strength. This time I cry out, as I do so, he, still having a tight grip on my hair, slams my face into the hard floor.

"You should learn some respect pretty girl." He whispers into my ear, "And while you're at it, take some soap to that toilet you call a mouth." Pulling my head up off the floor slightly he runs his tongue alongside my cheek, "Well, this is fun."

"Oh, is it?!" I gasp. I feel him rip the back of my shirt open. The rush of cold air over my newly exposed flesh makes my back tingle. "Oh, yes" he breathes in his usual deep voice. I can tell by his tone he's wearing that smirk of his. He rolls me over and finishes removing my torn shirt. "Umm, umm." His smirk grows wider, "Damn baby girl, why didn't you tell me what you were hiding under that shirt?"

I hit at him furiously as he straddles my waist. He grabs my wrists, "Now stop that you little bitch! Don't even make me have to stop you," he warns.

I don't listen. He backhands me across my mouth. I feel warm blood pool by my lip before running down the side of my face. "No," I try to push him off with little result, "You can't have me. I won't let you."

He grips me roughly around my throat, "Baby girl, since when do you think I need permission. I take what I want. And by doing so, I always get what I want." He leans his face closer to mine as I gasp for air, "Always," he repeats. He loosens his grip just enough to allow me to breathe, I feel his other hand traveling down my side. Then down my outer thigh and across to a more "personal" area. I squirm under him, hating his sickening touch. Hating his smell. Hating his domination. Hating him.

My hands now free I reach for a fallen lamp near me. I feel his fervent kisses across my chest and then I feel his hand start to undo my bra. That's it. I've had it with this piece of shit! I grasp the lamp tightly in my fist before he has a chance to finish unfastening my bra, I slam the lamp into the side of his head. He saw it coming too, he just wasn't able to stop it from smacking into him. He goes to grasp the lamp so I thwack it into his head again. Before he has a chance to react this time, I send it crashing across his head two more times.

He falls off me. I quickly stand, I hear him groan so I throw the lamp down square in his back. "What's that son of a bitch? I can't fucking hear you." I kick him in his side several times, yelling "son of a bitch" between each blow. Out of breath and panting, I sit down on the floor next to him. "How'd you like that son of a bitch? Did that shit turn you on?" I taunt.

Getting onto my knees I roll him onto his back. I look down at him, "Damn son of a bitch! You really are a good looking. Too bad for you I have to kill you." His raven black hair is disheveled, some strains scattered across his handsome face.

I straddle his waist as I pull my black and gold butterfly knife from the waistband of my skirt. I open the knife as I stare at him. Although he's knocked out I don't dare take my eyes off of him, I've come to close to him winning to underestimate him. I run the knife blade along his throat as if I were slitting it. I don't put enough pressure to do anything but nick him a little, just enough to have a few beads of blood on his throat.

I run my free hand across the smooth, ivory flesh of his cheek. I lower my face until my lips are nearly touching his. I've never felt this odd before. I've never hesitating to slit someone's throat before. I've never felt like kissing a man so much before. It's so hot in here. I look away then return my gaze to his face. I've never been so turned on before. It's quite a realization for me. Hot damn! What I'd like to do to him right now!

It's all I can think about. Killing, my one true love, seems to be fading further and further from my mind as I stare at his sleeping face.

I start to kiss him. Was this smart? Fuck no. Was I enjoying it? Fuck yes. I only realize he's awake as I feel his tongue slip into my mouth. I do the same of course and continue kissing him. My heavens, this feels so good. So wickedly good.

I stop when he bites my tongue, fuck that hurt, and he brings my own knife up to my throat. He had gotten it away from me while I was caught up in kissing him, shit!

"I could kill you," he says calmly, almost emotionlessly. "In fact, I'm going to."

"Now, that doesn't make much sense," I reply hoarsely. "Why not?" I smile at him, "Why kill me when you can fuck me?" He presses the blade against my throat a little harder. He smiles, "What if I kill you then fuck you?"

"What if?" I reply, knowing well that's not his style at all. If anything, he'd fuck me then kill me. "If 'IF' was a Skiff, we could go on a boat ride."

He quickly rolls over to where he's on top of me. He keeps the blade pressed against my throat, "Maybe I don't want to fuck you anymore?" He says almost teasingly. "You know, there's not much more of a turn off than a lamp upside the head," his tone more serious this time.

"Well, it's up to you what you want to do." I know he won't refuse me. "You're in charge." I can tell the last sentence strokes his ego as much as I had intended it to. He grips my chin, squeezing it he asks, "What's your name? Your real one?"

At first, I want to lie to him and I almost do, but I give in. "Cat Von Blackheart." He laughs, "I knew you looked familiar." He smiles, "Then you understand what I do better than anyone."

"We're gods, you and I. When we hold someone's life in our hands, when we control their fate, there's no one more powerful. They're our toys until we become bored with them. There's nothing more exciting than that."

His eyes light up, "Watching someone squirm with fear is intoxicating. Their anguish is a drug and their death is the highest high you could possibly ever reach." I touch his cheek, "They call us monsters. They don't, they can't, truly understand us. But, I understand, Andrew."

He grabs my wrist and pulls my hand away from his face, "You were planning to kill me, weren't you?" I smile, "And you were planning to do the same to me."

"We are truly monsters," he says emotionless. I swallow, the cold metal of the blade still against my throat. "You can kill me now if that's what you wish. Or....

He cocks his head to the side. Lordy, he's cute. "Or, what?"

"Or we can be monsters together, you and I. You know no one will ever understand you like I do. No one will ever want you as I do." He falls silent, his eyes focus on me. He's still holding my hand, but he lets me move it back against his cheek. I whisper ever so gently, "Take me. Be my beautiful monster."

A see of flicker of something in his eyes. What exactly I'm not sure. But something. After another moment he presses his lips to mine. I move my hand from his cheek to around his neck. As we kiss I feel the knife being removed from my throat, I hear something hit the floor in the distance and I know it's the knife. He had thrown it.

He bites my earlobe and whispers, "You belong to me, Cat. From now on you're mine, all mine."


A/N: Andy's irresistible to psychiatrists and psychos alike XD

I honestly hope you're enjoying it so far.

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