day twenty-two. world; horror
( challenge on infinite earths. pairing; nick/louis)
trigger warnings for blood, horror/gore, major character death, mentions of torture and other ghastly stuff. the world today is horror, and the theme is serial killer.
a/n - basically, i made the louis edit with blood on his face first because i wanted cold, calculating serial killer!louis and then the idea of capturing, torturing and killing the paparazzi due to the death of his long term boyfriend (nick obvs). then, it started to unfold in my head;
basically it’s a hit and run.
louis’ lazy in the mornings and he wants milk on his cereal so he makes nick pop down to the corner stop to get some. a group of paparazzi are waiting outside, some in the bushes, some down the road and tail him for a little bit. it’s all pretty standard until nick’s crossing the road and some paparazzo is checking his phone or his camera and doesn’t see nick and hits him with a god awful thump. he legs it, not wanting to get caught and leaves nick lying in the middle of the word; multiple fractures, but still alive and conscious, until he blacks out from the pain. Other paparazzi see it happen, some have photos and they take more time doing that until someone finally calls an ambulance.
louis doesn’t know what’s happened until he’s getting a phone call from the doctor saying that nick’s in hospital and probably won’t make the night. he goes awol, completely off the charts and buys an old, abandoned mental hospital and kits it up so he can make the paparazzi pay for what they did.
twisted by the grief of the death of his long term boyfriend, nick grimshaw, former one direction star louis tomlinson goes completely off the charts. no one has a clue of his whereabouts, not even the best of the paparazzi, but if they do somehow find out, it’s something they don’t know for long and it’s somewhere no one can hear their screams.
“why are you doing this?” the woman yells, her bloody fists banging against the solid metal wall - they all ask it, as if in some way they don’t think they deserve it. louis is tired of the question.
“the seventeenth of april, thousand and fifteen,” louis says over the loudspeaker, and the colour drains straight out of the paparazzo’s face, she audibly gasps and looks up, her eyes wide and the cut across her lip, split open once more.
“louis tomlinson?” she asks, and then sets her shoulders and squares her jaw, standing up to her full height, “you know, mr grimshaw’s death wasn’t anyone’s fault. it was an accident…” louis flicks the sleeping gas switch on, he’s going to enjoy finishing this one off with this hands.
trigger warnings for blood, horror/gore, major character death, mentions of torture and other ghastly stuff. the world today is horror, and the theme is serial killer.
a/n - basically, i made the louis edit with blood on his face first because i wanted cold, calculating serial killer!louis and then the idea of capturing, torturing and killing the paparazzi due to the death of his long term boyfriend (nick obvs). then, it started to unfold in my head;
basically it’s a hit and run.
louis’ lazy in the mornings and he wants milk on his cereal so he makes nick pop down to the corner stop to get some. a group of paparazzi are waiting outside, some in the bushes, some down the road and tail him for a little bit. it’s all pretty standard until nick’s crossing the road and some paparazzo is checking his phone or his camera and doesn’t see nick and hits him with a god awful thump. he legs it, not wanting to get caught and leaves nick lying in the middle of the word; multiple fractures, but still alive and conscious, until he blacks out from the pain. Other paparazzi see it happen, some have photos and they take more time doing that until someone finally calls an ambulance.
louis doesn’t know what’s happened until he’s getting a phone call from the doctor saying that nick’s in hospital and probably won’t make the night. he goes awol, completely off the charts and buys an old, abandoned mental hospital and kits it up so he can make the paparazzi pay for what they did.
twisted by the grief of the death of his long term boyfriend, nick grimshaw, former one direction star louis tomlinson goes completely off the charts. no one has a clue of his whereabouts, not even the best of the paparazzi, but if they do somehow find out, it’s something they don’t know for long and it’s somewhere no one can hear their screams.
“why are you doing this?” the woman yells, her bloody fists banging against the solid metal wall - they all ask it, as if in some way they don’t think they deserve it. louis is tired of the question.
“the seventeenth of april, thousand and fifteen,” louis says over the loudspeaker, and the colour drains straight out of the paparazzo’s face, she audibly gasps and looks up, her eyes wide and the cut across her lip, split open once more.
“louis tomlinson?” she asks, and then sets her shoulders and squares her jaw, standing up to her full height, “you know, mr grimshaw’s death wasn’t anyone’s fault. it was an accident…” louis flicks the sleeping gas switch on, he’s going to enjoy finishing this one off with this hands.