(Title: Old Friend)
(Fluff?)
(Murderer reader)
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(M/n) did get sick of doing this.

No, not the killing; that was what he loved to do.

The thrill, the chase.

No, he hated having to move so much because of it.

But hey, why don't explain a little bit of what went down.

It started in year six.

He had been the attractive person everyone had a crush on.

They didn't know just how crazy he was,

He had feelings no one would understand.

He was bloodthirsty.

So he took it out on his school.

He moved after.

His parents knew, they knew and didn't care.

(M/n) did have one friend before, his name was Jason Dean.

They both knew what the other did.

That was how they...'bonded'

But, (M/n) had moved so suddenly.

What's going to happen now?

Well, Destiny is.

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(M/n) walked over to his new school, Westerburg High. As soon as he walked through those doors, most of the eyes were on him. They caught his amazing leather jacket, that white tee, the black jeans, the black sneakers. Everything about him was so...so...interesting.

"My, my, who is this?" Went a blond wearing almost all red; a color he saw oh so often. "What a cutie~" She purred, walking over to him, as two girls, one in all yellow, and one in all green, followed her.

She drawled her hand up his chest, making (M/n) purse his lips, and swat her hand perfectly manicured hand away. "I don't have time for sluts." He said in his monotone voice, before walking over to where his locker was said to be from his tour before.

He could hear the bitch scoff, and rumbling come from around began.

"He turned down, Heather One?"

"Oh my god, that's crazy!"

"Insane."

(M/n) ignored it, and quickly put his stuff away. But a sudden hand was put on his shoulder. "Hey." Went someone in the stereotypical dumb jock voice. He was ignored.

"I said hey!" They shouted again, trying to get (M/n) to look at him.

This received a punch to the face.

He clutched his bleeding nose and scrambled back. "Screw off." (M/n) told him, a cold venom that would make the devil shiver in his tone. Everyone was fearful of the new kid now. Everyone, except another certain black clad murderer.

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The cold night carried on silently as he made his way over and onto an ever so lovely house. Veronica he think it belonged to. But why did he go?

Well he had seen a rather familiar boy gone over there.

The boy was ready to enter through the window, but was suddenly stopped by a hand. He whipped back, ready to attack, but stopped as he saw the familiar face.

"(M/n)?" Jason asked.

"We have a lot to catch up on, Jason."