
Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/2501810.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Graphic_Depictions_Of_Violence, Major_Character_Death, Rape/Non-Con,
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Total_Drama
  Relationship:
      Chris_Mclean/Topher
  Character:
      Chris_McLean, Topher_(Total_Drama)
  Additional Tags:
      Rape, noncon, Violence, Snuff, Chris_dies, gross_snuff_porn, Murder, Gore
  Stats:
      Published: 2014-10-23 Words: 3176
****** Signing Off ******
by Slim_Shady_(NoraPenblood)
Summary
     It was so, so dark and he couldn't help but hear the thrumming of
     blood in his ears, so loud, like the applause he craved so much.
Notes
     For Ali, but also for myself.
     Still 1 of the best gross snuff things I ever wrote, and also the
     edgiest.
     Might rewrite it...some day...
See the end of the work for more notes
It was dark. It was so, so dark and he couldn't help but hear the thrumming of
blood in his ears, so loud, like the applause he craved so much. He was Chris
McLean. He was rich and famous and he knew it - god, did he know it. He ran his
thin fingers through his hair, fixing it just so. He was young and perfect and
charming and he knew that too.
He had at first thought that it would be a bad idea to film it, but as he
continued to consider it, as he let himself play over the fantasy in his head -
hand moving below the sheets at a steady pace, working himself into a sweaty,
excited frenzy - he became more aware of the fact that he needed it to be
filmed. He needed to see the fear in those perfect eyes as he shattered him. He
needed to chronicle his masterpiece.
And now, here he was. The excitement was palpable as he shifted the bag on his
shoulder and licked his lips. He'd learned their schedule over the weeks he'd
spent watching them - hiding outside near their trailer and following them as
they set up for the upcoming season of the show. It had been so, so easy and
he'd had so many perfect opportunities to see the man he idolized. He'd gotten
to know him so well! He knew more about Chris than he ever could've learned
from the fan websites. He was getting the chance of a lifetime.
Chef was certainly out helping the crew clean up and striking a healthy amount
of fear into the hearts of interns, now. He always stayed out later than Chris,
the other man deciding he was far too tired to carry on watching everyone else
do menial labor after an hour or two every day. It was exhausting and Topher
could absolutely sympathize. And here he was, tonight, going to cure Chris of
that boredom once and for all. He let out a little laugh, muffling it with his
hand. Everything was going perfectly and he couldn't help the grin that pulled
at his lips.
He was so close, now - he could taste victory like pennies in his mouth as he
shimmied open the kitchen window and swung his legs inside. His sneakers almost
slipped on the damp counter-top, his eyes going wide for a moment as he stopped
to regain his balance. He held his breath, waiting until he was sure no one had
heard before he finally climbed down to the kitchen floor. He was going to win
and he'd have everything he wanted. Everything.
It was just so perfect, his obsession finally coming to fruition. He padded
quietly down the nearest hallway, where he could see a sliver of light coming
from under a door. He'd been in here once or twice, scoping out the building
and learning where he would be best able to hide if need-be. As he got closer,
he could hear the telltale sound of a shower running, along with the sound of
Chris's voice, singing something that Topher couldn't quite make out through
the door.
He paused there for a few minutes, savoring the brief moment of suspense as he
pulled a knife and his camera out of the bag over his shoulder. It wouldn't be
exactly easy to take Chris down, but god, it would be more than worth it. Not
to mention, he was younger and undoubtedly stronger. He would win. He had to.
He licked his lips and closed his eyes, taking a deep breath before he grabbed
the knob and twisted, sauntering into the bathroom like he owned the place.
"Hey there, old man."
Chris wheeled around so fast he very nearly slipped on the wet tile floor, eyes
wide and bewildered as they settled on the kid in his doorway. His heart had
very nearly jumped into his throat, assuming the worst when he heard the door
hit the wall. He wasn't wrong, he just didn't realize it yet. "Jesus Christ,
kid! What the hell are you doing here?" He took a step back and put one hand
over his more vulnerable bits, trying to make himself partially decent. "You
scared the shit out of me, dude. Get out." Soap ran in lazy rivulets down the
back of his neck and his shoulders, washing down the drain in a lazy spiral.
Topher stepped forward slowly, his movements measured even though he was nearly
vibrating with barely withheld excitement. He looked Chris up and down, letting
out a low whistle. "You don't look too bad for an old guy, Chris." He dropped
his bag by the door, tilting the knife in his hand so that it caught the light.
"What - what's that for?" Chris's eyes immediately went to the knife in
Topher's grip, still trying to put on an air of nonchalance despite the way his
fingers trembled. Water droplets caught on his eyelashes and he blinked them
away, trying to keep his vision clear as fear started welling up inside of him.
Topher smiled at him cockily as he pulled the bathroom door shut behind himself
and turned the lock. "What, this? Oh, it's just a prop, Chris..." He laughed
again, soft and dangerous, as he pressed the record button on the camera,
aiming it directly at the rather vulnerable TV host.
"A wh... A prop?" He laughed nervously, his voice quickly growing panicked. He
was glancing around the room, searching for an out. Topher was standing in
front of the door and the only thing he might be able to defend himself with
was a bottle of shampoo. It didn't look good. "Why do you need a prop, dude? Is
this some kind of prank or something? Did Chef put you up to this?"
Topher let out another laugh, shaking his head slowly as he continued to
encroach on Chris's personal space. "No, no. Chef doesn't have anything to do
with it." He smirked at him, finally close enough to touch the other man. He
propped the camera between his head and shoulder, reaching out with his now
free hand to wipe a little soap off Chris's chin. "Hm. You really oughta shave
more. Makes you look older than my dad."
Chris scowled, pulling away from his touch and rubbing over his jaw like he'd
been hit. "I ain't old, man." He was confused, completely unsure of what this
kid was up to aside from the clear fact that he was off his rocker.
"Sure you are. You're the older model, is the thing. I'm the newest, I'm the
next big thing." He looks him up and down, biting his lip lightly. "But don't
worry. Your send-off is gonna be great. Consider it a tribute!" Chris tried to
scuttle away from that uncomfortably intense look, but he didn't have anywhere
to go. Topher slid the knife into one of his belt loops and grabbed the camera
once more as he wrapped a hand around his throat.
"Wait, what the fuck-" Chris's hands joined Topher's at his neck, immediately
trying to pry the fingers away and forgetting about trying to keep his dick out
of the camera's sight. In any case, the camera in question was focused on the
panic in his eyes. It was everything Topher had dreamt of, and more.
"Hey now, don't fight me, it makes you look pathetic." He tightened his grip,
pulling him forward slightly before slamming his head back against the tile.
His eyes took on a dazed quality immediately, fingers scrambling weakly for
purchase against the kid's knuckles. "Look at you..." He crooned, nails digging
into his throat. "So weak. You really are almost geriatric, aren't you?" Chris
was scratching up the back of his hand and he laughed as he started to choke.
"You want me to let you breathe? Is that what you want?" He paused, waiting
until Chris's grip started to go lax before releasing him. The other man
slumped back against the wall, sliding down it as his head spun and he gasped
for breath. Topher ignored him briefly as he figured out how to turn off the
water. He didn't want anything to mess up his camera.
He turned the camera on himself briefly, giving the lens a wink and a smirk
before he pulled back one foot and kicked him in the leg. Chris was on a slow
slide to the bottom of the shower, scrabbling at wet tile for purchase, and the
way Topher knocked his leg out from under him made him fall down on his ass.
Topher laughed at him, cocking his head to the side and zooming out so he could
get a shot of Chris crumpled in the bottom of the shower, still gasping for
air.
"See? Pathetic." He murmured, lips so close to the mic that his breathing was
audible. He settled the camera on the little shampoo rack so that it could get
all the action and he'd have both hands to work with. Turning back to Chris, he
put one foot on either side of his hips, taking his time to look over his
naked, vulnerable body. "Atleast you look pretty when you get the shit kicked
out of you. You do have that going for you." He brought the heel of one shoe
down on his left leg, digging it into the muscle. "I bet you bruise really
well. I always assumed you would." He bit his lip, leaning over him and
pressing the knife to his cheek, digging it into the stubbled skin, drawing a
neat little stream of blood.
Chris whined loudly at the pain in his leg and then the sharp bite to his
cheek, trying to pull away from Topher. He needed to get out of here. "I- What
the fuck are you... Chef's going to be home soon! He'll kick your skinny ass,
kid! And- And you're so hearing from my lawyers! You'll be in fucking prison!"
He'd completely lost his cool, fingers scraping against the smooth floor for
some kind of purchase, something that was slippery as hell. His eyes were
darting around the room, still desperate for a way out.
"Aw... You think your boyfriend can protect you? He's not here, Chris. And even
if he was, I bet he'd just sit there and watch." He licked his lips again,
letting out a little giggle. "He'd probably say you deserved it."
Chris shook his head, refusing to believe a word Topher was saying. He was just
trying to psyche him out. He wanted Chris to be afraid and hopeless and it was
absolutely not working. Of course it wasn't. He was being very strong,
considering his position, right up until Topher pulled the knife back and
stabbed him in the bicep.
He hadn't expected it at all and the shock more than the pain made him scream
first, his eyes flying open wide and his body jerking violently. He started to
fight in earnest, his good arm flailing for Topher's face. He managed to punch
him in the mouth, causing the younger man to pull back, eyes suddenly narrowed
in anger.
This was not right. He was not supposed to get hurt. He deserved this, he
deserved the sight of hot blood running down the drain beneath his idol, he
deserved the feeling of his flesh giving in beneath his fingers. He spat right
in Chris's face, blood and spit staining his skin alongside the scarlet he'd
already drawn. "You want to speed things up? Fine. Okay." He grinned down at
him, an absolutely cruel expression that had Chris's blood running cold as
Topher wrenched the knife clean from his arm.
The screaming was good. He absolutely loved the way Chris was screaming, but he
didn't want to kill him too soon. He had to get what he really came for, first.
It didn't matter too much if he died once he was inside him, but god, he needed
the look on his face.
Shuffling to the side, Topher left the man reeling in the bottom of the tub as
he grabbed his bag once more. He'd carefully packed and repacked the things he
knew he'd need, wanting this to go off without a hitch. His fingers were
trembling as he pulled out the bottle of lube, so incredibly excited. It was
happening. He was here and he was finally getting the prize he deserved. The
thing he'd been pining after for so incredibly long.
He stepped back over to Chris quickly, dangling the little travel-size bottle
in front of his nose. "I bet you know what this is for, don't you?" He
muttered, dropping to his knees straddling Chris's hips. His own hand was
already wet from the shower and he curled his fingers around Chris's cock,
stroking him slowly as he leaned down, getting right in his face again. He was
breathing against his cheek as Chris squeezed his eyes shut and tilted his head
away from him, disgust evident in his expression. "Oh, stop whining..." He
chuckled, feeling Chris harden in his fist. It was everything he'd wanted. He
was hot and vulnerable and he could practically hear him cracking under his
fingers.
It wasn't long before Chris was hard and squirming, Topher licking the side of
his face where the blood had dried to his skin. "Look at you... Hard from all
this, already. Don't pretend you don't want me, Chris. You know I'm hot. It's
okay, noone's here to see how pathetic you are." He was lying. Of course he was
lying, tomorrow that video would be all over the internet. Everyone would see
the fall of their idol. God, Topher would be so famous, this was all it took.
He sat back on his haunches, licking the corner of his lips as he undid his
jeans and slid them down far enough to pull his cock out. He'd been aching
since the beginning and no doubt Chris had felt it every step of the way, maybe
he'd even been aware of what was going to happen. He kept his eyes on Chris's
face, on the way he blanched at the sound of his zipper, the way his dark eyes
were glued tremulously to Topher's erection.
It was so damn poetic and Topher couldn't stand it anymore, slicking himself up
with continuously shaky hands and yanking Chris's thighs apart. It was
hilariously easy to move him and he knew Chris was done fighting. He knew he
wanted this, of course he did. Chris was the sun and the moon and Topher was
here to bring about the end of the universe. He dug his nails into his thighs
and forced his legs back, murmuring softly to Chris as he did so. "Look at
you... I bet you thought about this, haven't you? Thought about having me
inside you, fucking you?" He laughed, slicking up his fingers before shoving
one incautiously into the other man. He loved the way he tensed up, the panic
rising in his voice again as he started to beg him to reconsider.
"C'mon man, no, hey, don't - Shit! Do not do that!" He lifted his hips, trying
to pull away, but Topher dragged him back down so easily. It was all so easy.
He didn't waste an incredibly amount of time getting him ready, only moving his
fingers inside of him until he stopped crying for him to stop. There were tears
on his cheeks and it was all so incredible. It was downright religious. He
shifted forward just a little more, grabbing his ass and spreading him open
luridly. It was so lewd it absolutely killed him as he pressed the head of his
cock against him and took his time pushing inside. It wasn't about love, it
wasn't even really about sex. This was about position. This was about Topher
usurping all the power Chris had ever had. He /was/ Chris McLean. He deserved
everything Chris had and he was taking it from him with each violent thrust,
with each distressed whine.
"Come on, Chris, we both know... you want this. Look at you, getting off on
getting fucked by a... nnh.. a sixteen year old." His voice was breathless,
euphoric as he shoved into him, the knees of his jeans getting soaked as he
continued moving inside of him. Chris had his face buried in the crook of his
arm, making choked noises. He was loving it, there was no denying. Topher knew
it. The whole world would know it soon enough.
He was getting close too fast, the inevitable climax of the whole thing
approaching like a freight train. It was a head rush and Topher grabbed the
camera clumsily, nearly dropping it to the floor in his rush to get Chris's
face in the shot. He curled his other hand around his throat again and
squeezed, pressing his thumb down on his Adam's apple. "Look at me, Chris...
Look at all your adoring fans." He laughed out loud as Chris obeyed him, his
own fingers clutching once more at Topher's wrist, wide eyes bulging and
focused with mounting horror on the lens of the camera. He came to the stark,
cold realization that Topher did not intend to let him go this time. That this
was going to be some kind of horrible denouement to his life.
He tried to choke out a word of protest as his head started to spin, lips
tinged blue and face turning purple. Topher's hips never stopped rocking,
burning him up inside. At least the feelings were becoming more distant, like
he was getting all his senses through some kind of pipeline. His vision
blurred, tunneling until there was nothing left but Topher's face, bobbing back
and forth with that camera propped up beside him. As he finally lost
consciousness, he was aware of a hideous crumpling sound and Topher's voice,
but he couldn't make out what he was saying.
"And now... Ladies and gentlemen..." Topher's voice was low, reverent, "This is
Chris McLean, signing off for the last time." He huffed, breathing heavily as
he tightened his grip, crushing his windpipe like so much paper mache. He felt
Chris go limp beneath him, his hitching attempts at drawing breath finally
faltering and stopping all together. He couldn't take it any more after that,
hips snapping forward as he came deep inside his idol. He shut his eyes and
tipped his head back, jaw lax as he rode out the euphoria. It was perfect.
He turned off the camera with a click, making sure it had been recording the
whole time, and sat back. For a few minutes, he stood over him, looking down at
the man who's life he'd claimed. It felt almost bittersweet as he left, Chris's
body slumped in the bottom of his own shower, covered in blood and sweat and
cum as Topher hiked up his pants, gathered his things, and walked right out the
front door.
End Notes
     Thanks for reading!! If you liked this, my blog is
     striderfvcker.tumblr.com
     My SFW ao3 account is http://archiveofourown.org/users/striderfvcker/
     pseuds/striderfvcker
     and if you feel like buying me a coffee: Buy_Me_a_Coffee
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