Pairing: Trevor x Reader
Summary: They leave you alone with the psycho.
Warning Level: ●○○○○ Low
As two of the men left off, your heart dropped a little further down. The creepy one stayed. Of course. By now, there was no doubt to you this was his place. It just fit. In every way. The guy called Trevor was watching his friends leaving, from the window. You barely dared to look up. Just when he turned his back on you, you would risk a glance. What should you do now? Nothing at all, was the best thing you could come up with. The person walking up and down his messy trailer, looked as if he won more then just a few fist fights and shootings. It was hard to imagine he could be intimidated by anyone. You were. It still felt like the worst kind of nightmare and you just couldn’t wake up.
»Alright, down there.« He was waving his hand, telling you to get off the counter.
You snapped out of your thoughts, raising your head. Hesitatingly, you slipped down, finally standing again. Next thing you saw was him, pulling a large hunting knife. Your eyes widened. A strong hand was reaching for your shoulder, turning you around. You were already imagining yourself in a big hole, somewhere between some cactus. What an end.
Then it snapped and the duct tape around your wrists was cut apart. You felt your pulse pumping in your fingers and just noticed how your knees were shaking. Trevor had already walked up to the round table behind the kitchen, stabbing the knife into the wooden plate, yawning loudely.
»Another fucked up day at the office, huh?«
He looked at you, stretching himself.
You answered automatically, quickly regretting it. But he just laughed.
»Everybody needs some action, right…?« He chuckled.
Action? Those last few hours were more action than you needed in your whole life. You almost spoke it out, but this time you controlled yourself. Instead you decided to peel off the remaining duct tape. Not the nicest feeling, but your burning skin reminded you that you weren’t dead yet.
»Ahhrr… I’m… kinda hungry now.« His hand was scratching is belly.
»You must be too.«
Your stomach agreed to that. Though you were too afraid still, to really think about eating. Anyway you nodded, barely looking at him. Trevor clapped his hands once.
»Wonderful. Let’s go.« He made big steps to the door, holding it open for you.
Now you were looking at him, puzzled.
»Come on, Missy.« His hand was gesturing.
»What’s your name anyway…?«
»(y/n).« You shorty replied, while stepping out the door.
As you walked past him, you noticed an indescribable smell, surrounding him. It reminded you of beer, blood, cigarette-smoke, old sweat, food gone bad, roadkill in the sun and a bunch of undefinable other things. Thank god you were able to breathe some fresh air again, finally. It was a perfectly clear night in Sandy Shores and it almost looked pretty. If only the place was build out of anything else but old, rotten trailers and garbage. Trevor pushed you forward impatiently, right to the red pickup truck parked in front of the fence. In a minute, both of you sat in the car, rushing down a small, dirty street through the Senora Desert. Just what the hell was this about now? Was he just going to kill you out there, now that it’s dark enough? Or maybe he was about to eat you. You wouldn’t be surprised anymore. That guy could be any kind of a psychopath. At least one kind. Your imagination started to run wild. You saw yourself in the news. Your body, sliced into tiny pieces, organs missing and a man saying, that your head was not found yet. At that thought you had to smirk a little. You couldn’t fight it.
Trevor was driving like there was no tomorrow. Almost as if he was being chased by some cops or whatever. You wished it was like that. But there was nothing out here. Not even another car. Just darkness and sand and sometimes a cactus.
- End of Chapter 03 -