#yandere serial killer | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

ozzgin · 2 months

Note

A nice character with a yandere split persona. The Yandere persona was born out of the abandonment of the character by a loved one, maybe mom. Did he kill her just so she could stay? Maybe. Only the Yandere persona knows, the character is oblivious, he just knows his mom left him. But he oddly feels ok about it as though the situation has been reconciled... which is weird to him.

Now he meets and falls in love with yn. She must not leave. It's f around and find out

Btw I love you ❤️❤️❤️ The Yokai series is my fave

Oooh, I’ve been thinking of a context for your idea and I somehow got stuck on a serial killer who is unaware of it most of the time. Since you mentioned abandonment and obsession, my mind wandered to some of the typical habits, such as collecting trophies. I’ve also been wanting to try my hand at writing a serial killer, so hopefully it turns out to your liking. (Sending back the love, always a pleasure to see your comments ❤)

Although let me include a little disclaimer, because I am aware many things in the sphere of true crime are problematic: this in no way glorifies or romanticizes serial killers. Just a reminder that this is a work of fiction and all behaviors displayed are for the sake of an interesting story, not to be admired in real life.

Yandere! Serial Killer x Reader

You're temporarily staying with a kind, quiet man renting out a room in the house he inherited. It's just the two of you, and a locked bedroom he claims to be vacant. Yet as night falls, you hear the whispered arguing of a voice you don't recognize. Is anyone else there?

Content/TW: female reader, mentions of murder, obsessive behavior, horror

You must break the pattern today, or the loop with repeat tomorrow

He stares at the locked drawer of the bureau. The clock ticking in the background fades into an irritating buzz, drumming against his ears at irregular intervals like a swarm of insects. Once again, he cannot remember where the key is. Yet he does not feel compelled to search for it. It cannot be anything of significance, he tells himself. Forgotten knick-knacks, perhaps. Despite the apparent lack of curiosity, he is drawn here every morning. He wakes up, carefully folds the sheets, and goes to sit in the office. Tick-tock. Tick-tock. Until, at last, the noon hour strikes, and the hallways are flooded with ghastly chimes.

Lately, however, other sounds have taken over the usual silence that envelops the house. The main door rattles faintly before opening with a creak.

“They were out of our bread rolls. I got a baguette instead.”

It’s you.

He stands up, as if startled from deep slumber, and hurries downstairs to greet you. He takes the grocery bags from your hands, flashing a smile of gratitude. Somehow, the idea of another person living here is still foreign to him. He’s gotten so used to the solitude, the quietness of the house. Time stands still when there’s no one else to remind you of it.

You glance up at the tall man, noticing his slight frown.

“Another brain fog?” You ask, worried.

“Don’t mind me. It’s a morning routine at this point”, he jokes. “More importantly, what would you like for breakfast?”

He always cooks for both of you. Initially, you were rather hesitant to go for his offer. You’d been looking for temporary accommodation and stumbled upon his advertisement. A cozy, vintage house the man had inherited from his lamentably departed mother, with one too many spare rooms. He had no need for all the space, he said in his description. You paid him a visit and were taken aback by his appearance. A massive, muscular frame that did not fit the rest of his mannerisms and features. He was soft-spoken, polite, and terribly shy. His eyes reflected the kind of gloom to be expected from anyone in his situation.

A sweet, gentle soul looking for company. On top of that, if you are to be technical, he’s a housemate difficult to compete against. Well-kept, mannered, organized, and thoughtful. He keeps to himself. You’d learned, soon after moving in, that he suffers from the occasional brain fog and memory loss. He goes for walks at odd hours to clear his mind. Enjoys reading in his office, although you’ve caught him just staring into space many times. Terribly inconvenient for the poor lad, you imagine.

The house itself is also not a bad deal by any means. Old fashioned, littered with trinkets and paintings. “My mother liked to collect many things”, he’d told you. It certainly has personality, to put it mildly. Some belongings are more bizarre than others: portraits of faceless people, with features smudged or distorted, doll heads in pompous, feathered collars hanging in clusters across the musty walls. Peculiar, but manageable.

Only at night does it become unsettling.

“Going for a walk?”

You’re curled in one of the armchairs, flipping through a magazine you found. It’s been hours since your little breakfast together and now the sun is beginning to set. The man is buttoning up his coat, standing in the doorframe and gazing at you with a smile.

“Yeah. I’m starting to detach a little. Maybe some fresh air will help.”

It’s nice, he thinks, having you here. He didn’t expect much when he ventured to rent out a room. He just wanted to hear the murmur of life again. Ever since his mother has passed…when did it happen, again? Better yet, how did it happen? Christ, he can’t remember. The last memory he has of her is not something to cherish. She was angrily shoving him out of the way, visibly annoyed by his cries and pleading. “Please don’t leave me”, he kept croaking in a pathetic tone, dragging his knees like a beggar. Then it’s all black. Black, like the cover they kept over her body at the morgue, to hide the mutilated remains. Black, like the tie he struggled to knot before her funeral. At that time, the sheets of her bed were still scattered, as if she never left. He could almost see her there, reflected onto the mirror’s surface – rather dirty as a matter of fact, he should wipe it soon – sitting melancholically on the edge of the mattress.

To think he’d be hearing footsteps again. A soothing voice. Even if it’s temporary, your presence in the house has been a blessing. Even if you must leave eventually. His lips purse involuntarily.

You hear the door close, followed by the key twisting inside the lock. You’re alone now.

With haste, you get up and sprint upstairs. You pull out a hairpin from your pocket and discreetly insert it in the cylinder. Today you find out if the spare bedroom truly is as vacant as your housemate claims.

When you first viewed the house, he mentioned that only this room will remain locked. It was his mother’s and he’d rather not look at it, he said. Let it gather dust, for all he cares.

Only at night, you’ve been hearing someone else’s voice. It didn’t happen immediately. Weeks after you’d moved in, you woke up thirsty and tiptoed on your way to the kitchen for a glass of water. On your return, you were surprised to see dim light coming from underneath the door of the forbidden bedroom. Visitors of your housemate? You hurried back into your bed, not wanting to intrude. But the following night you jolted up from the same mumbled voice. Strange that he’d invite someone over this late - twice in a row! - without saying a word to you. Even more, they were arguing like this. Curiosity got the better of you, so you snuck out and placed your cupped ear against the wall.

“No, no, no, no. I’m telling you, it’s different. She’s different from the others.” A deep, ragged voice retorted angrily.

Suddenly, there was a loud thud, a fist smashing against something, then glass shattering over exasperated, shouted curses. You ran back to your room, baffled. Who on Earth was there? You could feel your heart throbbing inside your chest.

Morning couldn’t come quick enough. You marched over to your housemate, demanding to know who this stranger was. He stared at you, wide eyed and incredulous. “There’s no one else here, dear. Just you and me.” Nonsense. You knew what you heard. You’d been wide awake! He gently placed the back of his hand against your forehead. “Could it be that you’re sick? Weather has been dreadful lately.” You scanned his face with hitched breath. Was he mocking you? Yet his features betrayed no such intent. The man seemed genuinely worried; face twisted in a caring frown.

Then what? A ghost? An intruder that fancied having a chat in a dead woman’s bedroom?

You fiddle with the pin until you hear the click. Finally. Surely whoever has been frequenting the place must’ve left some clues behind. You carefully open the door and peek inside. A broken mirror and some furniture covered in webs. There’s a lingering rusty smell that tickles your nostrils, and soon enough you find the source. Next to the old bed lays a cloth splattered red. On top of it, a leather folder from which scalpels and other surgical tools fell out haphazardly. Blood? Your mouth curls in disgust. You crouch to the floor to inspect the odd items and notice a jar glistening from underneath the bed. You pull it towards you and give it a rattle. Nothing heavy. You lift the jar into the light for a better look and gasp.

Fingernails.

“Oh, I forgot to put those away.”

It’s the same deep voice you’ve been hearing at night. Your stomach drops and you turn, slowly, towards the entrance. Horror is swiftly replaced by confusion once you realize it’s none other than your housemate.

“Y-you’re back from your walk?” You blurt out.

“Walk?” He inquires. “Ah, that’s what he told you.” He steps towards you and lowers himself to your level with a grin.

“Have you come to say hello?” He points towards the tall, shattered mirror. “This is (Y/N), mother. See, I told you she’s stunning. You didn’t believe me.”

He ruffles your hair with a boldness completely unfamiliar.

Nausea overwhelms you and your ears ring in panic. Whatever is happening right now is beyond your understanding.

“I’d like to go to my room now.”

“I recognize that speech all too well. You want to run away.”

Within seconds, he grabs one of the scalpels and points it towards your throat, poking your skin with its cold tip.

“Now, don’t embarrass me in front of her like that. Do you know how hard it is to convince this bitch of anything? I told her you’re not like them, (Y/N). Don’t prove me wrong.”

“Them?” You whisper, lungs devoid of air.

“Come, let’s put this with the others first.” He pockets the scalpel and lifts you up by the hand, tenderly kissing your fingers in the process. “Then we can talk.”

You follow him into the office, and he unlocks one of the desk drawers. Against your better judgment, you stretch over his shoulder and glance inside. ID cards of various women, jewelry, lipsticks. Teeth. Fingernails.

You want to cry.

He nonchalantly dumps the contents of the jar into the drawer and slams it back shut, then throws himself in the chair and pats his thigh, eyeing you. With a sob, you clumsily climb onto his lap.

“Back to our matters. What were you planning on doing?”

“I just wanted to lay in bed.”

He takes out the scalpel and draws a line across your cheek. It stings.

“Don’t lie, (Y/N). You have nothing to gain from being naughty with me.” He coos, placing a kiss over the fresh wound.

“I wanted to run away.” You confess, petrified.

“Good. Do you now understand what happens if you try to run away?”

You briefly look at the drawer and nod.

“I knew you would. You’re so smart.” He strokes your hair fondly. “Not an easy decision to make, mind you. I love you more than anything in this world. Who’d enjoy killing their one and only?”

The man ponders his next words with a hum.

“Don’t count on getting away while he’s awake, either.” He taps his temple and chuckles. “He has no idea and won’t stop you, but I can easily find you again.”

The eggs sizzle in the pan as you stare at your plate, background sounds melting into shapeless static. After a couple more minutes, the man turns off the stove and places the food on the table with a cheerful whistle.

“Eat up!” He encourages you.

You hold onto your fork with faintly trembling hands.

“This might be the last breakfast I cook for you, after all. You’re leaving tomorrow, aren’t you?” His last sentence trails off and he smiles, dejected.

“Actually, I was wondering if I could…stay here instead.”

He gazes at you in disbelief.

“Truly? I-…That’d be fantastic.” He laughs awkwardly and scratches the back of his head, a deep red blush spreading over his cheeks. “Do excuse my rudeness. To be honest with you, I’ve grown quite fond of our arrangement. I really do like having you here.”

You return the smile without responding.

“Most exciting news. I’ll get the documents from the office after we eat, so we can draft a new lease.”

“That’d be lovely”, you answer curtly.

“Say, have you by any chance stumbled upon a small key around the house? I wanted to finally unlock the drawer upstairs, but I can’t remember where I could’ve left it.”

The knot in your stomach tightens.

“Not at all.”

“Don’t sweat it. I’m sure it’s nothing important, anyways. Old memorabilia, most likely.”

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x darling #yandere x you #yandere fic #yandere imagines #yandere imagine #yandere scenarios #yandere male #yandere killer #yandere male x reader #yandere oc #yandere oc x reader #yandere serial killer #yandere original character #horror #split personality #tw yandere

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oct0bra1ns · 2 months

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Yandere killer offering cannibal y/n his victims?

Delicious Prey

pairing: Yandere serial killer x cannibal reader TW: gore, cannibalism, yanderes, violence against others, against self (from the yandere's side ) notes : My brain is so fried from physics i had to come out for my hiatus to breath, also, can you tell i was kind of inspired by dead plate? LOL Please let me know if you want me to add anymore tw to the tags please.<3

reblogs and comments are appreciated!

♡ Yandere Serial killer who's had his eyes on you for a very long time, who memorised your entire routine, waiting for the chance to strike, only for him to see you drag a body in from the back into the place you work.

♡ Yandere Serial killer who breaks in at night, curious to see what you did with the body, only to find it stuffed inside a freezer. It didn't take a genius to figure out you were making meals of the victims.

♡ Yandere Serial killer who applied to your restaurant, just so he could spend more time with you, he doesn't care what work you assign him, he'll gladly do it as long as he gets to hear your monotone 'Good job' or 'well done'.

♡ Yandere Serial killer plans a way to catch you in the act, to find something to hold over you so you can stay with him.

♡ Yandere Serial killer who's surprised when his plans quickly backfire on him when you pull out evidence of his crimes, threatening to leak it if he doesn't shut up and go back to work.

♡ Yandere Serial killer who makes a deal with you. He'll do all the dirty work and you can enjoy your passion of cooking. He'll bring you anyone however and whenever you like.

♡ Yandere Serial killer who presents everyone to criticises your dishes or restaurant as ingredients to use in your next dish.

♡ Yandere Serial killer who gets jealous when you eat someone in front of his. It's agitating to hear how well they cooked or how it's nice to chew on.

♡ Yandere Serial killer who presents a part of him as a meal during your anniversary, I mean, since he's become a part of you, the two of you are bound for life.

♡ Yandere Serial killer who flushes when he comes home covered in blood and you kiss the blood of, making a comment on how it tastes before tending to him.

♡ Yandere Serial killer who although is used to seeing you eat people, it not used to it himself, so when you first offer him a part of yourself, he's beyond honoured but at the same time, almost emptied his stomach the first time.

♡ Yandere Serial killer who learn your favourite dish and makes it for you on the daily, even if it meals he has to start getting risky with his victims. An offhand comment of imaginings how someone will taste end up with him bring them to you.

#octo answers #yandere x darling #tw yandere #yandere x reader #octo writes #yandere scenarios #yandere #yandere imagines #yandere oc #yandere x willing reader #yandere x you #yandere x y/n #yandere serial killer #tw cannibalism #tw blood

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bunny-yan · 10 months

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Masterlist

Total written works: 58 not sure if i'm going to add the imagines or leave them as little treats for those who find themselves bored and decide to scroll through ;) Bully Friends Cyborg Warmth

Delinquent ~ Sax Savior Chase Headshot Fight Duke Different Second Son Fae ~ Aereon Runaway Headshot Names Gently

Fan ~ Harper Number One Secret Bedroom

Giant Heart Privacy Needs Storytime

Hacker & AI ~ ? & Eve Blocked Greetings First Meeting(?)

Hero ~ Tasman Selfish Dreams Fears Silent Treatment Fool Propose Desert Fix You

Incubus ~ Ambrose Sleep Stamina Wet Fever

King ~ Idris His Possession Fears Sane Sorry Your Highness Stockholm Positive Fiancéed

Priest Faith Picnic Prayer

Serial Killer ~ Ellis Saw Hugs Monster

Soldier ~ Winter Kidnapped Captive Headshot Notice

Stalker ~ Valentino Valentine's Day Headshot Careless Popular Greetings Mask

Telepath Ex

Sharing is Caring ~ Series Fears (Hero & King) Greetings (Hacker, AI & Stalker)

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yandere-writer-momo · 3 months

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Tooth Fairy?! LOL! What they gonna do?! Sucker punch everyone in the face for us, and leave a bag of teeth under our pillows for us to cash in and pay off our debt?!

Imagine if each tooth was only worth a dollar or a quarter, and when we opened our residence front door, teeth just start flooding out everywhere like some sick utube prank!

I say this all with love I think your character idea is fantabulous!

It’s a gothic serial killer who collects teeth of you from people you either complimented or people who have upset you in some way, shape, or form 🖤

We love Zahn, that goth boy with macabre interests

#Yandere of #yandere original character #goth Yandere #Yandere serial killer #Yandere killer

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yanderemommabean · 4 months

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See my needy ass kicking down the door to Dr Lee's torture room demanding he take a break bc it's 'head pats o'clock' and I want attention

He just freezes, the drill in his hand still whirring as he looks over to see what was the matter. You, with your cute little pout and demanding expression stomp over and tap on your phone screen, that was currently showing the time.

“It’s been three hours. I made snacks and everything and watches two whole episodes without you!”

Lee just gasps, dropping the tool as it lands right into the eye of the person on the table. He’d gotten so lost in playing with his toys he completely forgot to come back up and have his sacred time with you! Oh dearest butterfly don’t be upset!

“How could I?! Oh love, how can I make this up to you? It wasn’t on purpose I promise!” He exclaims while taking your hands and pulling you towards him, his lips coming to kiss your forehead as your fingers interlock. “You know me. I obsess over the smallest details sometimes that I can’t quite escape until someone shakes me loose”

“Oh I’m aware” you say dryly, but don’t fully turn away. Admittedly you liked being a bit of a spoiled brat, what’s the harm if Lee seemed to like to play into it too? “I can’t believe you left up alone and worried all this time because your more interested in someone dying”

Lee clicks his tongue, forcing you to look at him as he holds your face between his fingers. “Ah ah ah. Don’t even joke about that, you know damn well that isn’t true. I’d sooner pull my own tongue out than think anyone else is worth more of my time than you”.

You knew he was serious. You couldn’t help the smile on your face hearing that, knowing he wouldn’t ever truly leave you high and dry. You weren’t even really upset, you’re just a cuddly little tyrant sometimes is all!

You gently kiss the palm of his hand as he cradled your face, looking up from under your lashes. “So you’re almost done then?”

“I’m finished darling, I’ll head up there with you right away. This one is more or less comatose anyway, they shouldn’t be a problem for a while”. He gently kisses your head again, taking your hand to lead you up the stairs as he shuts the heavy metal door. “You know, since I was so naughty, you could think of a way to punish me” he flirts, smirk on his features.

“Yeah, I could. And I am” you say as you two get comfortable on the couch, his hand coming to rest on yours. “Oh? Do tell me then, I love when my little minx is demanding”

The smile on your face only brightens when you see the light leave his eyes at your next statement. “I invited Jasper over for game night tomorrow. Hope you like suffering with his favorite board games”

((This was fun and silly, I hope you beans like it! -Mommabean ))

#doctor Lee my oc #Dr Lee my oc #my ocs #mommabean #yandere serial killer #yandere imagines #yandere scenarios #yandere doctor #yandere fluff #yandere male

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lovelyyandereaddictionpoint · 2 years

Note

Oc! Oc! Oc!

Some yan oc hc with a cute chub GN reader

Yandere Serial Killer

Everyone was on edge. The amount of murders that occurred in your part of town amped up to a debilitating degree; to the point that the general public no longer walked outside. If the lack of people outside was bad enough, your buddy system was failing. Your roommate who worked at the same place used to walk with you from place to place only for them to recently have to move away due to family issues.

Now you are on your own.

To work. To school. To the store. You had to move as fast as you could.

No more than 30…that's what you told yourself

30 minutes to do whatever you had to do before leaving. You couldn’t keep it together any longer. Suffering from the collective paranoia of the entire town you kept to yourself, no friends, no family, you were on your own. Even the people you know that you buy things from no matter how many times they smiled at you or offered their help. They couldn’t be trusted. No one could.

“Oh (Y/n), how are you today? Everything okay on your walk over?”

It was Penn, the owner of the grocery store that was within 30 minutes. Smiley and bright before the events of the serial killer he was a known favorite. Even so you couldn’t bring yourself to say anything but the typical response.

“I’m fine.”

“How’s your jogging routine going? Are you still doing that?”

You huffed as you continued putting your items on the belt pretending to not hear the question as the same person that subjugated you to it in the first place. Before Mo you were fine with yourself exercising when you wanted and doing as you liked when you liked. But with a person like Mo there was no getting around it. Mo was your landlord, a nutty fellow that had an outward appearance of being a lovely parent over the tenants. In truth they were a crummy old person that liked to practice their helicopter parenting on everyone and her latest victim was you.

Forcing you to run ‘to fix that weight of yours’ many times you had tried to inform them about the fact this was simply your body shape but she refused to listen. Promising to lock you out of your apartment if you should ignore their ‘advice’ again; you tested them one time and ended up sleeping outside your door before they woke up.

You saw Penn make a face before ringing up the rest of your items.

“H-heym you’re looking for a roommate…”

Your head snapped up as you were finishing your payment, as you cautiously asked.

“How do you know that?”

He was blushing in embarrassment as he shuffled his feet.

“Your roommate suggested I ask you…I’m looking for a place.” Seeing the disbelief on your face he put his hands up in defense.”I-i have the money with me in cash if you want it right away.”

He seemed desperate and for as long as you’d known him never once did you question his character. Was it really okay to break your rule?

______________________________________________________________________

“Thanks so much for inviting me to take a look around (Y/n)! I really appreciate it!”

Against your better judgement you let him come over and like a puppy he dashed around taking in every bit of the apartment.

You shook your head as his eyes darted around the vacant room. A smile started to creep on your face as you thought of the possibilities…maybe he could be your new buddy. It’d be a shame if someone deprived you of that in these dangerous times.

Knock

“Hey (Y/n)! Who’s in there with you?!”

Your door unlocked and in came Mo smelling as if they dunked themselves in the worst smelling

Perfume they could find. Trudging past you they came to look at Penn who was now also looking surprised at the gremlin who let themselves in.

“Ohh my goodness is that you Penn? What are you doing here? I doubt they actually took the time to go ahead and invite you over.”

He laughed awkwardly as he sent a worried look over to you before centering back on the fast approaching landlord.

“A-actually they did. They let me come over to see the room I’ll be getting if they let me be their roommate.”

“Oh please, if you need a room I can do that and more for even half the price!”

Was your landlord really trying to hit on and steal your potential roommate? You just rolled your eyes as you leaned yourself on the nearby wall just waiting for Mo to get tired enough to show herself out. Unfortunately she didn’t plan to do that; and ended up attempting to flirt with him for nearly the whole afternoon. Looking outside it was getting dark out and you began to worry about Penn and against your better judgment you intervened.

“Uhm Mo, hey I think you should be letting Penn leave seeing as it's getting late and a serial killer is at large.”

“Oh you're such a worrywart (Y/n)! Penn’s a strong man; he'll handle himself. But if you want I can offer my room! It’s a suite–!”

“I-uh actually would rather not..if I was going to stay I definitely wouldn’t be staying with you.”

“What?! And you’d stay with this chubby kid?”

You were going to blow it off, another statement to ignore but Penn apparently wasn’t having it. The man you’d never see so much as scrunch his eyebrows in anger held your landlord by their shoulders holding them at arm's length with a shadow on his face. Amazed and slightly worried for Mo you stepped in putting a hand on his lower back. Immediately he snapped out of it looking at you and his arms in surprise before releasing your landlord who grunted and angrily stpmped out of your door. You both sat in the silence of relief before you broke it.

“I-if you do want to stay with me for the night, I don’t mind. And if you wanted to move in that’d be cool too, that is if she still lets you.”

“Ha-ha, thanks and if it's cool I’ll totally move in. But I can get home okay,” he headed for the door before turning with one last smile towards you. “I really appreciate it. I'll text you when I get home.”

“Sure, okay bye.”

You leaned against the door before leaning a bit as you imagined him being your roommate.

Having someone around that defends you didn’t sound so bad. You shook your head as you went off to complete your chores. After all, you had to do some cleaning before your new roommate may start moving things in.

____________________________________________________________

“Hah~hah (Y/n)--(Y/n)--(Y/n)-ergh!

Disheveled and breathing heavily, Penn was sitting with his pants down in the hallway just outside your door. He tried to catch his breath while still replaying the euphoria that he felt just three minutes and 40 seconds before. Not only did he get to see your living space with the lights on but he even got to feel the plush warmth of your hand on his back. Penn growled silently as he thought of why you did but nonetheless it reminded him of his future plans for that night.

He grinned as he sent the text to you before pocketing his phone and knocking on your landlord’s door. When it opened Penn batted his eyes and puckered his lips like he’d done so many times before.

“Oh Mo, I didn’t mean to be so aggressive earlier! I was just playing with you, I do want to spend the night and I want to do it at your place.”

“Were ya? Well I’ll be, make yourself at home handsome while I freshen up.”

Penn smiled, pulling back his hair and putting on his beloved latex gloves.

“Take your time dear,” he spotted the decorative knife block on display in the kitchen.

“Take your time…”

#yandere x y/n #yandere x you #yanderexrea #lovelyyandereaddictionpoint #yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x oc #yandere x darling #yandere serial killer #yandere clerk #yandere bnha #serial killer oc #yandere oc #chubby reader #chub reader #yandere fanfiction #yandere asks

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heavensent-or-scum · 2 months

Text

ONE WAY OR ANOTHER

yandere serial killer x gender-neutral reader CONCEPT

content warning: not proofread, mentions of death in non-traditional and violent ways, nothing explicitly yandere so don't come in expecting a lot (yet)

Set in 1979, Daniel "Danny" Burnett is a 36 year old, living in a trailer hooked up to a dusty green Chevrolet truck. Just on the outskirts of a rundown, rinky-dink small town in the Northwest, deep into the thick bush, you'll find it. The trailer carpet is rotted in the corners, the curtains remain shut, tattered from insects chewing on them over the years. On rare occasions you'll see him drive down to buy groceries, maybe working the night shift as a janitor. Standing at 5'10", his build is nothing to scoff at. He's usually seen in a white, long-sleeved, camp-collared shirt that's been undone by a button, an olive green V-neck sweater pulled over it, covering his bulky arms. To accompany it, his dark blue, saggy jeans, and black penny loafers give him quite a formal appearance, that is if you ignore the overgrown stubble on his face, as his copper hair looks like he slashed the sides diagonally, yet nearly completely gave up on the back. Choppy, uneven, bangs divide his face, not reaching past his nose before they're pushed back to reveal his green eyes. A thick chain with a cross dangling off the end of it completes his look. During his youth, he majored in film at community college, believing he'd make it big. He never did, yet his trailer is still packed to the brim with VHS tapes, and his camcorder is always close by. In the surrounding, more populated suburbs, more and more people are being found mutilated, all in different ways. The only common denominator is the generic power tools that are used in each one, and that all the jewelry the identified victims were last seen in has been taken. There have been eight in total in the past year, the latest being a young individual, who died by strangulation, bruises exhibiting handprints left on his neck. The individual's hands were still tied with red rope when they were discovered. Recently, they were identified as ████ ████ by a local samaritan. And you, well, you're lost. Stuck on the side of the road, the golden light is waning away into twilight. You're sitting on the ground, a cardboard sign gripped between your fingers, reading 'TO L.A. CALIFORNIA'. It's no time to be stuck out here. Winds keep biting at your arms, the blue jeans you're wearing are the only thing keeping you warm, and a sheer tank top was not your best choice during late Autumn. It would be great for auditions though, and that's the one thing on your mind. Your last ride dropped you off miles down, muttering something about wishing you luck. It must've been hours before you finally see the road illuminating, shadows of the trees crawling across it. The silhouette of the truck stops in front of you, lighting you up like the sun. You squint your eyes, only able to hear the sound of the door opening. And of course, you scramble into shotgun. He was supposed to have been more scared of you than you were of him.

A/N: sorry... sorry.. cliche i know.. but... i dunno... been watching a lot of horror and i needed to write this concept blurb of the character and the beginning concept for the reader.

Quotev link

#tw yandere #yandere #yandere male #yandere x reader #male yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere oc #yandere scenarios #yandere imagines #gender neutral reader #yandere x gn reader #yandere serial killer #yandere x y/n

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cold-kitty · 26 days

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can I maybe request a willing (and maybe really affectionate) reader with the serial killer yandere? I love your writing!

Of course! Thank you by the way!

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Contains: Fluff, Stockholm Syndrome

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Yan!Murderer/Serial Killer who expected you to be scared, pissed, just upset in general, so he made sure that he held you close while you were still unconscious so that he could savor what he thought would be the last moments of closeness with you.

Yan!Murderer/Serial Killer who isn't surprised when you're scared, he expected it.

Yan!Murderer/Serial Killer who tries to make himself the least threatening as possible, nervously handing you a cute little teddy bear he found with shaking hands. and, to his surprise, you take it.

Yan!Murderer/Serial Killer who watches as you take hold of it with your own shaking hands, nervous for your reaction.

Yan!Murderer/Serial Killer who watches you accept it, a shaky attempt at a smile twitching on your lips. he's relieved, to say the least.

Yan!Murderer/Serial Killer who keeps getting you small gifts, happy that you're quickly becoming comfortable with him.

Yan!Murderer/Serial Killer who decides to risk it all one night.

Yan!Murderer/Serial Killer who waits until a stormy night, one with lightning and thunder and all that, and he comes into your room. his voice shakes in fear as he asks you the million dollar question. "can I sleep with you tonight? I have a phobia of storms..."

Yan!Murderer/Serial Killer who almost lunges at you when you say he can, but he forces himself to stay calm and slowly climb into your bed.

Yan!Murderer/Serial Killer who itches to snuggle up to you, fingers twitching with the want- the need -to hold you.

Yan!Murderer/Serial Killer who jumps out of his skin when you say that he can get as close as he wants, how did you know!?

Yan!Murderer/Serial Killer who latches onto you like a baby monkey, spooning you as gently as he lets himself.*

Yan!Murderer/Serial Killer who notices how nonchalantly you act around him, and soon you're living with him as if he hadn't kidnapped you.

(BONUS: he doesn't care about spooning positions. you want to be the big spoon? hell yes. you want to be the little spoon? hell yes.)

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He is such a sweetheart <3 (he has committed ATROCITIES)

#yandere x reader #yandere x male darling #yandere x you #yandere #🐈‍⬛ answers #yandere murderer #yandere serial killer

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ozzgin · 2 months

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Ok no ima need another part to that split persona fic that's such a interesting concept and u wrote it so damn good I need a part two 😭

Thank you! I’m happy you liked it! 💕 I have to say, I’m rather fond of the idea myself. I wanted a homely feeling that is tainted by something not being quite right. Something is off all the time, and I found the thought unsettling. Now, I’ll have to see if I can come up with a continuation without ruining the atmosphere, but if you’re more interested in the character, someone has requested headcanons featuring our serial killer and I’ll work on those soon.

By the way, the little quote at the beginning and the descriptions of the house were inspired by this TikTok below! I’ve had it in my favorites for the longest time, it’s fantastic really. I love it.

#yandere serial killer

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obsessivevoidkitten · 8 months

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Have His Cake And Eat It Too

Male Serial Killer Yandere x Gender Neutral Immortal Reader (CW: Noncon, blood, violence, murder, death, cannibalism and reader forced into cannibalism, kidnapping, general yandere behavior, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, cursed immortal reader) Word Count: 500 (This is really bloody and dark compared to what I normally write, but it is also a drabble and does not contain the usual level of detail my other fics do, if you have played boyfriend to death and its sequel you may recognize some similarities between those characters and my Serial Killer Yandere, he is a bit of a mix between Strade, Ren, and Lawrence, though I still feel he is unique.)

Imagine there is a serial killer loose in your area. He finds people that meet his criteria, the specific personality and aesthetic that he desires in a partner, and he falls head over heels in love with them. He kidnaps them, doting on them, feeding them, clothing them, bathing them. But his love for them grows and grows. Serial Killer Yandere rapes them, forcing himself inside so he can feel them surround his cock. Serial Killer Yandere starts to cut them more and more, enjoying the sight of beautiful red blood on their otherwise flawless skin. But Serial Killer Yandere needs them to be a part of them. Serial Killer Yandere needs to be closer to them. Serial Killer Yandere really can’t help it, his love is just so strong. Serial Killer Yandere cuts them open and grips their heart, feeling it beat in his hand as they slowly bleed out. He consumes it, he held their very life in his hands and made it a part of him. But now he is alone again and needs a new darling. Serial Killer Yandere meets you for a date. You are exactly what he wants, even better than the ones that came before you. He kidnaps you like all the others after drugging your drink. You wake up with a chain on your ankle, dressed in delicate clothing. He dotes on you. He bathes you. He feeds you. He soothes you. He fucks you so hard just to see those beautiful tears stream down your face, the prettiest tears he has ever seen. Serial Killer Yandere loves you more and more, very quickly. Serial Killer Yandere can’t help himself, he knows he will miss you but he must be closer. His hand is in your chest, gripping your heart. Your blood leaves you as everything fades. You die. While you are dying he has never felt more in love, but once you are gone the familiar emptiness is quick to fill him. But you are not like the others. You don’t stay dead. In the morning when he comes to take care of your corpse and appreciate your beauty one last time before burying you with all the rest of his loves he sees that you are fine. You aren’t human. Not anymore. You were cursed to never be allowed to die hundreds of years ago. Serial Killer Yandere is shocked. He thinks he is losing it. Serial Killer Yandere kills you over and over, taking your heart for himself each time. You’re always back the next morning. Serial Killer Yandere becomes thrilled. Serial Killer Yandere force feeds you your own heart and shares it with you sometimes the day after he has killed you again. The curse transfers to him, and he discovers after dying due to an accident one day that he is unable to die. Now Serial Killer Yandere can have his cake and eat it too~ Forever <3

#yandere x reader #violent yandere #yandere boyfriend #gender neutral reader #male yandere x reader #My OCs #My OC Serial Killer Yandere #yandere imagine #yandere imagines #yandere drabble

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scremogirl · 6 months

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☾✧꥟ 𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐒 ✧✰☀︎︎

𝐍𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐡𝐚𝐬 𝐉𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐁𝐞𝐠𝐮𝐧

Yandere! Serial Killer x Reader

Mentions of blood! Mentions of Death! Mentions of mutilation! Mentions of Murder, GN! Reader, NReader/Diolouge uses a lot of black colloquialisms/AAVE *slightlyyyy black coded but only for the speaking bits. NO APPERANCE MENTIONED!* READ THE NOTE AT THE END PLZ! (●’◡’●)ﾉ Part 2 here Part 3 here

Halloween.

The day where people grasp the fact that the summer's over and the seasons have finally changed. Corny decorations on front porches, masks in windows to scare unaware customers, and people dressed as slutty cartoon characters.

You loved the last one. You’ve always worked hard on your costumes; from a small cameo in the school yearbook to entering contests and pageants. You loved fashion, everything about it. The different fabrics, colors, patterns; you cherished it all. So, it’s no wonder that’s what you’ve chosen as your destined career path. You somehow managed to get into the third most prestigious fashion school. I say third because the first one you applied for, was full of egotistical French exchange students who do nothing but compare their lives at home to their lives in America. The second… well, you don’t want to talk about it. Regardless, you’re so grateful your talents have been recognized.

That leads us to now. At the biggest fright fest of the year. Your professor decided that if everyone got at least a 95% or above on the unit test, he’d take the whole class on a field trip to the annual Freak do Shek Carnival. A free trip and creating a new costume? You’ve never studied harder in your life. You spent days working on your costume; hoping to win the annual costume contest.

“Breaking news! The killer know as the “Mask Maker” is still on the loose and is currently suspected to be in the Witchwood area. It is recommended for all residents to stay indoors travel in groups-,”

Your heart sinks.

No, no, no! Why does it have to be now? Why here? The area you lived in was one of the safest in the city! Police patrolled regularly, security systems were available to all, and most people have been traveling in groups these days. So, why? You look at your friend, Malika, who no doubt received the same alert as you did, judging by her face.

“Well what the hell are we supposed to do now!?” She yells in frustration. You all have arrived at the festival and the bus has already taken its leave. Unless you call an Uber, there’s no way out; but then again, with a killer on the loose, no person would be dumb enough to let any stranger in their car. You tell your teacher your concerns, but does he listen? No.

“We’ll be fine,” , “just travel in groups,” , and “make sure you check in with everyone at least every 15 minutes,” is all he says to shake your worries. Great job by the way. With that, he goes ahead with another one of the chaperones, probably on their way to get drunk on cheap beer and look at young girls. Pig.

“I know I ain’t stayin for damn sure,” you chuckle at Malikas abrasiveness and nod your head in agreement.

“Who’s gonna pick us up though? We all came here on a bus and no Lift driver is stupid enough to let strangers in at this time,” you both sigh and end up agreeing that she’d call her boyfriend to come get you. The only downside is he lives in the next county. That means 3 whole hours plus some that you two have to try and rid your paranoia.

“How ‘bout we go check out the costume display for the upcoming show? Maybe scope out some the competition?”

“You know what Malika, that sounds like a great idea,” she holds out her arm and you take it , laughing your way down the hay covered dirt path wearily dodging scare actors. Unbeknownst to you the glowing eyes of one of the masks are filled with anything but fake intent.

“Hey, Mal? Is he on the way yet?” You two have already viewed the display, concrete knowing you’re gonna knock everyone at the park. So you decided that maybe a little sightseeing wouldn’t be that bad.

“Ugh! He said he’s on his way but knowing him, that means he just got in the shower,” with a deep sigh she puts her phone back in her pocket.

“Look,” she continues

“ How about we go get something to eat and enjoy what we can. I mean, we did wait all year for this,” you’re a little hesitant but you end up caving; fried oreos do sound good right now.

The walk to the concession stands is filled with jump scares from actors, Jack, o lanterns illuminating your path and the laughter of children and adults a like. The environment reminds you of why you came here in the first place, maybe there is nothing to be worried about.

Oof!

“Oh I’m sorry! I wasn’t paying attention to where I was going,” to wrapped up in the scenery and nostalgia, you failed to notice one of the actors scrambling by. You hear the muffled laughter of Malika and try your best not to strangle her to cover up your embarrassment. Fortunately , it was just the water that spilled on them; Unfortunately, your oreos lay spread eagle on the ground. However, even with a soaked costume and powdered sugar all over their boots, they remain in character. Only giving you a tilt of the head, a grunt, and tightening their grip on their axe. The eyes that lay behind the papier-mâché mask boar deep into your soul, the white contacts holding something deep and dark. The feeling of guilt is slowly washed away and replaced with anxiousness. Man, they're getting employee of the month. Still, you feel bad so you grab the napkins from your back pocket and gently wipe their mask, some of the fake blood coming off along with the water. Hmm, these effects are off the chain too.

As you clean them up you can’t help but to think that they’ll join the costume contest, definitely giving you a run for your money. You're snapped out of your thoughts when Malika pulls you along the road, whining about how upset she is because she didn’t get to snag one of your Oreos. Making your leave, you look over your shoulder one last time, only to find those same white eyes trailing your figure.

My god, you're even more beautiful up close.

“Personally, if that happened to me I’d kill myself,” once again, your friends laughter snapped you outta your own mind. You just giggle and brush it off.

“Shut up! It’s not like I did it on purpose! Besides he was kinda fine not gon’ hold you,”

“I know right! the way he titled his, had a tear running down my leg not gon’ lie,”

“Girl… don’t you gotta man? Like… on his way here?”

“Shhhh don’t ruin the fantasy,”

Two hours have officially passed, the same old texts between Malika and her boyfriend, this time however he was actually in the car. She had pressed him to turn on his location for safety, you could never be too sure now can you? He should’ve been here by now but with how crowded the festival is getting, you can’t blame him. Thankfully, the contest is just about to start! Going against your better judgment, you and Malika thought that being apart for about 15-20 mins wouldn’t hurt. She’ll be waiting in the audience while you go change anyways.

Rushing to the changing rooms you fail to notice another contestant coming towards you just as fast. For the second time this night you managed to bump into someone.

“I am so sorry! I didn’t mean I-,”

“Watch where you’re going bitch! Y’know how long it took me to make this thing?” You look to the left and then to the right trying to figure out who the fuck they think they’re talking too.

“Look I didn’t mean it, I’m sorr-,”

“Yea yea whatever, just stay outta my way next time. Besides, it’s not like you're gonna win this thing anyways,” just before you were about to give them a piece of your mind, the manager stepped in and separated you two. Jeez now this is gonna take even longer than you expected. You thought it was only fair to let Malika know shoot her a quick text. “No worries, babe! Gill's location says he’s here already so Imma grab us a quick bite to eat before I look for him and we head to you. See ya soonnn❤︎︎!!!”

Good; that buys you just enough time. After getting changed and checking your reflection for the hundredth time, you step out feeling as confident as ever. Just as you exit the stall, you hear the worst blood curdling scream of your entire life. You look over to your right and see that asshole from early and that guy with the really nice axe murder costume. Your eyes have to be deceiving you! One of their legs is completely severed, blood dripping from the stub left behind. Slash marks, deep and crooked, adorn their arms and remaining leg. They Look as if their limbs could snap off at the slightest breeze. They cry and groan as they reach out to you. Following their eyes the crazed murder shifts his eyes to you. Their weapon of choice freezing in their hands mid swing. Their victim continues to moan in pain and crawl away, begging and pleading for someone to save them. But…you just laugh.

“I see what you're trynna do here, and it ain’t workin’. Your costume is good but it isn’t better than mine. Assholes,” the last part is mumbled under your breath as you walk away. Even though you presented yourself in this prideful manner, you can’t help the feeling of disappointment that bubbles inside you. You tried really hard this year, let’s just hope that everyone else thinks you did too.

CHOP

Finally. Holding up the severed head he smiles, crooked and eerie. The bitch wouldn’t stop screaming, but at least he gets to see the look of fear in their face forever.

“Hey! What the hell’re you doing!?” hm? Turning around he sees the manager from earlier, standing before him with wide eyes filled with shock and anger. He can’t have his plans be ruined by a little slip up! He didn’t mean to act so impulsive but he couldn’t help. Nobody talks to you like that; not if he had something to do about it. Swinging his weapon of choice up on his shoulder, he’s about to take a step before he’s interrupted.

“Didn't I tell you guys to keep all spare props in bags because of the fake blood?! It gets everywhere and I’m the one who has to clean it up!” They shoved him to the side before grabbing a large trash bag from the cart they lugged behind them; simultaneously grabbing a mop and bucket. Continue to grumble about how “they don’t get paid enough for this” and “all the newbies are irresponsible”. But hey, free disposal.

“Sh, sh it’s okay; it was never your fault,” you tried comforting her but to no luck. All she can see is red as the burning hot tears streaming from her eyes ruin the makeup she spent so long on

“Okay?! It’s not okay (Y/N)! He said he was stuck in traffic all the while he was toungin’ down some bitch in a slutty cat costume. Very unoriginal btw!” You try to keep your giggle in for her sake. You kept trying to tell her this idiot wasn’t any good for years but nooo “the dick was too good to let go,” and apparently, someone else thought so too. Her weeping continues before she builds up the courage to speak again.

“All I wanna do is go home; fuck this competition,” you smile seeing her personality shine through her sadness just a little.

“Yea, fuck this competition,”sure you’re sad about to being able to participate this year, but with your best friend in distress and a serial killer on the loose, you can’t help but to think that maybe you could wait until next year. Ordering the Uber, you suggest that before it gets here, you should check in with your teacher first. Of course you don’t have his number and you're sure your other classmates are not worried about their phones unless they’re snapping pics and recording for their stories . You send them a quick text to your classes group chat and look for the exit.

“He really is a dick, you don’t need him,”

“Yea, I know. Besides, maybe that axe guy will take care of him for me,” she giggles but you don’t find it funny at all.

“What?”

“Yea, I saw him outta the corner of my eye when I walked in on he who shall not be named about to fuck that other girl,” she rolls her eyes and continues walking but you remain stationary.

“You gotta be joking,“ she turns around and gives you a quizzical look so you continue further.

“He and another dickhead I bumped into put on this whole show to get me to drop outta the contest. Lost limbs, fake blood and everything. I don’t know what his problem is, but he needs to leave me the fuck alone before I get the manager, on some Karen shit”

“Now that I think about it, he has been high-tailing us ever since we’ve got here,” she freezes before looking at you dead on. She wipes away the tear stains and brushes her nose against her sleeve before scanning the area.

“You don’t think it’s Kee-,”

“No! Don’t. It’s not him. It couldn’t be,” she holds up her hands in defense before pulling you along to get the hell up outta here. It goes dead silent, tension filling the air. It couldn't be him! It’s just some rando whos jealous of your skill! But…your mind was just playing tricks on you. That feeling of paranoia started to rise again and the flashbacks felt like they were hitting you in waves. She saw this and decided to speak up before it got worse.

“Hey, I’m sorry for bringing it up. I really didn’t mean to-,” this time it’s your turn to cut her off. You offer her a light smile and hold her hand in yours before squeezing.

“It’s alright. Besides, who needs men anyways. You’re all I need,” she gives you an even brighter one, her usual self returning, before squeezing just as hard, laying her head on your shoulder while you walk.

“Yea, fuck men,” you two laugh in sync before changing the conversation to what you’ll do when you get home; maybe a Horror movie marathon and some junk food will cheer you up. Who cares, the night has just begun for you and there’s no way anything was gonna ruin it.

Watching you walk away a gloved hand slams into a tree. Dammit! You won’t get away so easily. You’re his. Nobody else’s. He’ll make sure of it. Starting with her.

Hello everyone!!!! Hope you enjoyed the first part of my Halloween special. I’m breaking this down into 3 parts because I’m afraid people will think it’s too long if I put the whole thing on tumblr. I will be making an Ao3 and the whole fic will be posted without any split up. When it’s created and up I’ll let you know. Hope you enjoyed Loves!!! ( ˘ ³˘)♥︎.

-Love, Sosa❤️

#Yandere! serial killer #yandere x y/n #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere #✧✩🜚𝐅𝐔𝐋𝐋 𝐅𝐈𝐂 🜸𖤐✰

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merakiui · 28 days

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[viii.] ᵗʰᵉ ᵇᵘᵗᶜʰᵉʳᵉᵈ

serial killer!jade leech x female!reader cw: yandere, unhealthy behaviors/relationship, kidnapping/captivity, descriptions of murder/death, violence, strangulation chapter vii│chapter viii (you are here)│chapter ix

Today’s Thought - As biology would have it, the moray eel is cowardly by nature. Somehow this facet doesn’t apply to a certain someone. What he lacks in cowardice, he makes up for in cruelty.

The three days that follow the first feel like a blurred eternity, and you only know it’s been three because Jade’s explained your daily horoscope thrice now. The first: Do your best and your days will be fortuitous. You’re walking the path to success. The second: You may feel gloomy with the shifting skies. Rainfall may evoke sadness, but the secrets you hide from that important someone will seem even sadder. And the third (today’s prediction): There’s a chance you might find luck in uncertain situations.

These horoscopes might have provided you with a shred of relief if it weren’t for the fact that your slumber has been mostly dreamless ever since that last obscure nightmare, and so you don’t have anything to compare them to. No jellyfish. No strangers sitting at dinner tables. No blue hues for you to contemplate.

You’ve read through A Hiker’s Guide twice in the span of forty-eight hours, committing fungi facts to memory as if they’ll serve any purpose while you remain shackled in captivity. But it keeps you occupied and smothers any morbid thoughts threatening to spill into your skull. Which is what you really need right now—the sweet sense of comfort and contentment.

Jade upheld his end of your bargain yesterday when he poked his head inside the bathroom, presenting the white suit coat Azul had worn the night he faux-proposed. You kept your complaints to yourself, silently scorning him while he draped it across your shoulders. It’s an expensive brand sewn from luxurious fabrics you’d never be able to afford no matter how many extra shifts you pick up at The Devil’s Delight.

Out of habit, you’re attempting to calculate how many times you’d need to sleep with Azul in hopes of convincing him to buy you an outfit of equal grandeur. Your logic tells you multiple times for every pretty button and precise stitch, but your heart tells you it would only take a simple question and a sincere smooch to string him along. He opens his wallet for you as easily as you open your legs for him.

But that’s just part of the agreement, you remind yourself, petting the silky sleeve like it’s a cat. Stop thinking about him. Focus on other things.

You lift your gaze towards the door.

I wonder what Riddle’s up to. We were supposed to meet up on Saturday. He’s probably angry I couldn’t make it. Or maybe he’s worried I’m not showing up to work. Shaking your head, you scoff bitterly. No, he’s not worried. He’s Riddle. He never worries about distractions like me. He has everything laid out so perfectly. You toy with one of the exquisite cuffs on the jacket, twisting it between your fingers. I guess when you’re that meticulous you never have to worry about anything because, no matter what happens, you’re following a familiar schedule. So even if things don’t go to plan, you can just move to the next item on your list.

You slouch against the wall and sigh.

Maybe it’s better to live repetitive days. It’s boring, but it’s safe.

Before you can start weighing the positives and negatives to that thought, a noise from below resounds. You scramble away from the sink, mindful of your bandaged ankle, and force yourself flat like a pancake, your ear pressed against the tiles. The air is still, your breath is hitched, and then there are footsteps. Four in total. You assume he’s taking off his shoes because there’s a disconcerting quiet that follows. Seconds later, you strain to hear the door as it shuts and locks with a click.

And then there is more silence.

Something’s not right, you think, chewing your lip. Anxiety bubbles in your blood, volcanically volatile. He’s not coming upstairs.

You push yourself up onto your arms and retreat to the space between the bathtub and sink.

He always comes upstairs to check on me when he gets home. Right away. So why isn’t he? What’s going on? You shake your head and dig your nails into your arms. Don’t panic. Maybe he’s preparing another meal? But he usually eats before work. At least, that’s what he’s done with me ever since the first day. Maybe he didn’t have work. Maybe he went out to do something. But what? Cover his tracks? Kill someone? Make sure there are no witnesses from that night? Kill someone? Your grip on Azul’s jacket tightens. Relax. Take a breath and think about it logically. He can’t do anything rash. Not when he’s just kidnapped me. Someone must have made a missing report by now, so he has to be careful.

Your eyes slide about the room, inspecting the framed sketches once more. What if it’s the afternoon? He could make up any time he wants and I’d have no choice but to believe him. He could’ve gone out for lunch, or he met up with Azul for the daily walks we usually do. Right. Azul. He has to know something’s up. He has to… Wait.

The realization is glacial, stabbing through your skull mercilessly: He won’t suspect anything because disappearing like this is a routine he’s all too familiar with. In his eyes, I’m just—

Footsteps on the stairs shake you from your theorizing, and you brace yourself for the sight of him. You hope to shrink yourself to a size so small and imperceivable that no one, not even the most keen, cutthroat killer, could find you. You succeed in huddling in on yourself, a ball of tightened nerves just waiting to unfurl at the slightest hint of danger. Sweat beads on your brow and slithers down your spine. The hair on your body stands on end, as if expecting the swift strike of a terrifying tragedy.

Something’s not right.

The knob turns. There he stands in the sliver of space between door and bedroom, backdropped by dim lamplight. He’s dressed plainly in a black hoodie and sweatpants of the same color. It’s arguably the most casual you’ve ever seen him look. And in his arms, held bridal style and slumped like a boneless fish, is a woman.

Your gaze is drawn to the way her shirt stretches tautly over her abdomen—over the rounded dome that is her stomach—and dread crystallizes your blood. Suppressing a shiver, you meet his stare. A smile slowly crawls onto his lips, and then he steps deeper into the bathroom, pulling the shower curtain aside and lowering the woman into the tub. Tape is plastered to her mouth, and her wrists and legs are bound with expert knots. Just looking at her and the state she’s in makes you sick with discomfort.

“Who… W-Who the hell is that?”

“A roommate,” he replies, all too smooth. “It’s only temporary, so you needn’t get so territorial.”

There’s no way. He’s actually planning to…

Bile rises in your throat, and before you can stop yourself you’re leaning over the toilet to retch. Saliva dribbles down your chin, landing in the bowl below in a downpour of gross, acidic rain. A petrifying tremor shudders through your body, and you steady yourself against the toilet, coughing until tears gather in your vision and your throat aches. You smack your hand against the handle to flush the physical manifestations of your horror away. Down it goes, never to be seen again.

“Your little parasite doesn’t seem very fond of her,” Jade remarks, standing over you like a patient reaper of death. “There can only be room for one, no?”

You crane your neck to peer at him. “F-Fuck you.”

He smiles thinly, his eyes creasing with manufactured mirth. “It’s just a coincidence.”

“Coincidence, my ass.” With a dark scowl, you wipe the spit from your mouth with a shaky hand. You drag yourself away from the toilet, tasting residual vomit on your tongue. “You can’t hurt her. She… She’s pregnant, Jade. There’s no way you can—”

“She isn’t you. If I recall, I only agreed to keep you alive.” Jade slips his gloves off, drapes them in the basin, and then lathers his hands with soap. His movements are mechanically meticulous, as if these motions have been preprogrammed. Even the way he dries his hands is unnatural. Too prim. Too perfect. “As far as I’m concerned, she’s nothing like you.”

“Why? Because she didn’t kick your ass when you showed up to kidnap her?”

Jade exhales an amused breath. “Of course not.” His eyes frost over when he turns his stare on you. “She never got the chance. Besides, if my ass had been sufficiently kicked, you wouldn’t be here right now.”

“I hope you choke on a fingerbone.”

“That would be most unfortunate. I’ll be sure to eat carefully.”

Peering at himself in the mirror, he smooths his hair down. You didn’t realize it was tousled to begin with. Now that you’re looking, his entire person seems…messy. Even that stray strand falls on the wrong side.

He definitely didn’t go to work, you conclude, studying his features from behind. He’s too casual. It’s hard to imagine Jade in anything other than uniforms. Did he go out with that lady? Maybe not. He seems like the type to dress nicely for dates. So a sweatshirt and sweatpants… They’re both easy to move around in, and he’s wearing dark colors to blend into the night. Did he grab her when she was least expecting it? He said she wasn’t given a chance to fight back, so a struggle was nonexistent.

You shake your head, unsatisfied with your deduction. I’m missing something. His appearance is messy, but he’s always so clean. So why is he messy? This isn’t making sense.

“How’d you find her? You must’ve planned this in advance.”

“I assure you I’m not seeing other women behind your back.”

“Like hell I’m jealous, you creep.”

He chuckles and leans against the sink, his arms folding easily. “A magician never reveals his secrets.” “Magicians and murderers are two different things.”

“Aren’t they skilled in making things vanish? Both captivate their respective audiences as well.”

“Do you not see how vastly different the two are?” Groaning, you rest your head against the wall. “Did you seduce her?”

“Someone’s curious.”

“What’s her name? Do you even know where she’s from or what she’s been through? You’re taking an entire life away, Jade.”

“Two, actually.”

“That’s even worse! Do you hear yourself right now? You’re insane!”

“Has it ever occurred to you that your morals might not have any influence on what I do?”

He’s doing this on purpose. He could’ve brought anyone home, but it just had to be a pregnant lady.

“You’re sick.”

“Do you truly think so?”

“No sane, healthy person would do this.”

Jade feigns a sad pout and wipes nonexistent tears from his eyes. “To hear you say such things… My heart breaks.”

I hope someone chops you up, you lunatic! Then you can know what it’s like!

“So what’s the plan? She’s stuck here like me?”

“Not for long.”

“You’re really going to kill her?”

“Is that not obvious?”

You glance at the tub. I have to do something. But what? You look around the bathroom, eyeing the frames, the sink, the toilet, the walk-in shower, the tiled floor… Can I kill him? Shatter one of the pictures, grab the biggest shard of glass, and then—

Jade bends down to your height. “You needn’t look so pensive. There’s nothing you can do, and if you try anything I’ll be sure to slaughter you in the most gruesome way at the end of these nine months.” He smiles like it’s not the most sinister threat. “And I’ll watch you bleed out slowly while I cut your skin away in delicate slivers. So if you value a quick, painless death, do yourself a favor and keep your hands to yourself.”

You drag your legs into your chest. You sick freak. His eyes crawl down your face to observe your bandaged ankle. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you.

“That should be enough of a reminder.”

“I’m not stupid. I’m not going to do anything. I can’t.”

I want to, though. I have to.

But there’s the shackle and the chain, restricting your movement and trapping you in the bathroom. There’s also the very heartless serial killer, who values your life as much as one does a meal. Voraciously. That’s as far as his sympathy extends. He doesn’t care about you or your nonexistent baby. You’re not even a person.

To him, you’re just supermarket meat plucked from the street. The most dangerous game he’s ever hunted.

“Good to know.” Pleased with your submission, he rises to his usual height and makes for the door. “Does it hurt?”

“A little.”

“Allow me to retrieve some painkillers.”

“If it puts me to sleep—”

“Rest assured. I have no intention of doing that. Too much and you may never wake again. That, and I’d prefer a meal without unnecessary baggage.”

“Then don’t drug me if you want fresh, healthy meat.”

He says nothing, merely smiling in reply, and departs through his bedroom. You listen to his retreating steps and then, after determining he’s made it downstairs, you drag yourself over to the tub. You yank the tarp-turned-curtain aside and peer down at her.

“Excuse me?” You reach in to nudge her arm. “Miss, are you awake? Please wake up.”

She doesn’t stir. Your gaze sweeps over her face. She doesn’t look bruised or battered. In fact, she’s in much nicer shape than you were when Jade took you.

It couldn’t have been a date or any sort of formal event. Not by chance either… So what is it? What am I not seeing?

You stare at her bump and frown. I’m pretending to be in her position, but she’s actually pregnant. If anyone deserves to get out of this alive, it’s her and her baby.

You shake that thought out of your head next, replacing it with something detached. You have to be logical. In tragic situations, it’s everyone for themself. What if your roles were swapped? Would she feel the same? You’d hope so, but maybe she’d be just like you—someone who’d do anything to survive, even if that was at the cost of another’s sacrifice. It’s not fair, but there’s nothing you can do. She’s doomed.

“Fuck,” you mutter, curling your fingers around the lip of the tub.

I can’t watch an innocent woman die. I have to do something.

Footsteps draw near. You scramble to your corner. Jade returns with two tablets and a glass of water. You down the painkillers in one gulp.

If it knocks me out, at least I won’t have to see anything.

You rest your forehead against your knees. “I wish Azul was here.”

Why am I saying that? Do I really want him here? Maybe Cater would be better. Or Riddle. Anyone but Azul.

“My apologies. The withdrawal must make you feel immensely itchy.” He peers at the tub. You realize you forgot to pull the tarp back to its original place. “Consider this the beginning of your detox.”

“You’re selfish, you know that? I have my entire life ahead of me. I have—” you rub the cold sapphire set into the ring on your finger— “I had a wedding to look forward to. Someone I was going to marry. A baby! And you…” Before you can stop yourself, the tears are falling. Weeks of pent-up emotions overflow. You wipe hopelessly at your face, feeling pathetic for crying in front of him when he could care less, but the rivers continue running. “Y-You fucking took that away from me! And I can’t—it’s all so you can feed yourself.”

You dig the heels of your palms into your eyes and weep like a child. The voice in your head soothes you: You have time. You can still get out of this.

When you pull your arms away, you find Jade gazing at you. “If I’m as selfish as you say, what does that make you?” He pulls his sweatshirt up and over his head, and then you see it. The dress shirt.

A pit opens in your stomach. You feel sickness scraping at your throat again, and the sensation persists when he shucks his sweats next.

All this time, he was in formal attire…

“I have no interest in your affair with Azul. Rather, I find the entire thing quite circular. You were loosely attached once, but now you’re engaged. And then what? Are you going to run away when he does something unfavorable? You have the makings of a most atrocious bride.” Casually, as if this is a conversation held over afternoon tea, Jade folds the clothes and sets them on the towel rack. “I suppose that is just the nature of love. You return like the leashed pet you are and you let him love you because you are just as foolishly fond.”

That’s not true. You’re wrong. I don’t love him. I’ve never loved him.

“Ah, but this is just mere speculation based on what I’ve witnessed.”

“Stalker.”

“Not quite. Do you know how many times I’ve helped you—drunk, dazed, vulnerable you—and you never thought otherwise? I put you to bed. I did your laundry. I stayed by your side and cooked breakfast in the wake of your hangover. For so many years, I’ve beheld the (Name) who thinks she’s loved by all because she doesn’t love herself enough.” At your horrified expression, he laughs. “You like to babble when you’re inebriated. It’s very entertaining… What was it you told me a few months ago? That you’re a nothing human with an empty, ugly heart who isn’t worthy of Azul’s boundless generosity. That you pawn it for lust disguised as love because you can’t afford the real thing. That you—”

He sidesteps the glass you throw at him. It hits the floor and shatters with a splash. Glass shards slide across slick tiles. He watches you silently, his countenance unreadable.

“Shut up!” Odium darkens your face. You inhale a ragged breath, collecting what’s left of your tattered ego, and add in a shaky voice, “You don’t know me. You’ve never known me.”

“Perhaps not.” Jade leans down to smile at you. He’s close, but he doesn’t touch you. You challenge him with a mean scowl. “But I will soon.”

Before you can question that, a soft groan interrupts your discussion. Your head snaps over in the direction of the tub. Jade does much the same, only he moves slower. There’s a pregnant pause, tension crackling in the air, and then there’s movement. The woman struggles in the bath, her screams muffled against the tape. You wince, understanding her horror.

I know what that’s like.

Jade helps her sit up. She resists, shaking her head desperately and shrinking away from his hands as if they’re something monstrous. They are, technically. Her eyes meet yours then. Even though it’s a wordless exchange, everything you need to know shines on her tear-stained face. Her brows are pinched together in stressed disbelief. She’s trembling.

“If you promise to be quiet, I’ll remove the tape.”

Upon hearing that familiar phrase, you shudder. It seems to have the same effect on the woman. She looks at him and whimpers.

“P-Please listen to him,” you speak up, nodding encouragingly. “Don’t fight. It’ll make it worse.”

She spots your bandaged ankle and gazes at Jade with new terror shining in her brown eyes. They’re very pretty. Big and beautiful, almost like marbles. To think the last things she’ll ever see with such doll-like eyes are a hungry monster and a hapless captive.

Jade peels the tape off slowly and, unlike you, she keeps her mouth shut. A wise decision. You don’t want to think about what he might do to keep her quiet.

“There. That wasn’t so hard, was it?” Jade sets the sliver of tape aside. “Now then, I believe introductions are in order.”

“I… I don’t understand,” she whispers, pressing herself against a corner of the tub. “Why am I here? You told me you’d take me to a doctor. Y-You said you’d help me—”

“He’s a liar.” You fold your arms over your chest and huff. The woman’s expression falls. “It’s not your fault. I thought he was good, too.”

“So then—I’m just—why am I here? W-Why are you here?”

Jade steps in front of you to block your view of the distraught woman. “(Name) is my housemate—”

“Not by choice.”

“Still a housemate nonetheless,” he continues. “You’re here because I’m in need of a meal.”

“You’re…hungry? Is that… You’re serious? Is that really what this is about?” She shifts awkwardly in her restraints. You feel bad for her, even more so when you catch the hope bleeding into her voice. “Then, if that’s the case, I’ll cook something for you and you can let me go!”

Jade shakes his head.

You peer past his legs at her. “He’s going to kill and eat you.”

He frowns at you. “And I was intending to bask in the suspense…”

“You’re the worst. Genuinely.”

“I don’t understand… You’re…” She looks between you and Jade. Her eyes gloss over with fresh tears. “You’re going to kill me…”

“Indeed. Ah, but don’t look so disheartened. So long as you continue being good, I’ll grant you a painless death.”

“N-No way… I… I don’t wanna die. Please. M-My baby—I can’t—”

She breaks off with a choked sob. You watch her crumble without a word. It hurts to see her shoulders shake with every rattling inhale. It hurts even more knowing you’re just as stuck but temporarily spared. You glance at Jade to gauge his reaction. Like always, it’s impossible to read him. He’s always been like that, even before you found yourself trapped here. Smiling so sweetly, as if he isn’t a murderer, he would speak to you like a normal person, tease you like a friend, care for you when Azul couldn’t. You were so certain he was your friend—not just by way of association through Azul either.

He hid it—this massive, life-altering skeleton—like an expert. How did you miss it? What did you fail to catch?

Nothing. Because he never gave any indication of what was locked up behind unassuming closet doors.

Now you know better. So does this woman.

“I won’t tell anyone. I promise I won’t, so please let me go. Please, sir. My baby…”

Jade remains unfazed. “(Name) already tried those lines. Care to guess how well they worked?”

Landed me nine months on death row.

She hangs her head in defeat. “I can’t believe it… I’m actually… This is it.”

You rest your head against the wall and sigh. Jade stares a moment longer before striding to the door.

“I’ll give you time to get acquainted.”

With that, he shuts the door. It’s very obviously a test. He’s probably waiting on the other side, listening in to learn what sort of incriminating information you might share. Not that it matters if she hears it. She’ll take all of this new knowledge to the grave or, in more literal terms, Jade’s stomach.

“I’m sorry you’re caught up in this,” you murmur, tracing invisible circles into the floor. “What’s your name?”

“M-Marisa.”

You glance at her. “It’s beautiful just like you.”

“Oh. Well, t-thank you.” She offers you a shy smile. “My mother named me after the sea. It was her favorite place to visit whenever she needed inspiration. She was an artist, and the sea was her biggest muse.”

“That’s sweet. I wish I knew the lore behind my name.”

“It’s still pretty without the backstory.”

“I guess so.”

I never really put much thought into my name. Does it matter if it’s pretty or ugly?

“Actually… It’s kinda ironic. I don’t like the sea. It scares me, so I stay away from it.”

“The sea itself or what’s in it?”

“Both?” She attempts an awkward shrug. “There are scarier things out there, but there’s something unsettling about the ocean. Maybe I’m silly for thinking that.”

“You’re not. It’s normal to be scared of things we don’t understand.” Like right now. But you keep that part to yourself. “I can’t relate. I love the sea. The lost history, the creatures, the mysteries… It’s all so fascinating.”

“Really? You’re braver than I am!”

“I’m just way too passionate. That’s all.”

Am I? I said I’d be a marine biologist and that’s what I’ve been studying all this time. But…

Marisa sighs. “You’re lucky. I’ve always wanted to find something I could be passionate about.”

“I’m sure you’ll find something one day.” And then you pause. “Or… Um.”

She pastes another hollow smile on her face. “I thought I could be passionate about school, but I couldn’t do it. I dropped out and tried a few jobs. Everyone told me it’d be easier to get married instead of running around like a headless chicken, but that didn’t feel right. I thought I’d be passionate about things like motherhood and babies, but I dunno. I’m already so far along, but I haven’t felt anything yet. No excitement or anxiety. Just emptiness. And I know that’s a terrible thing to feel and think—we’re supposed to love the things we create! I don’t even think I truly love my boyfriend. I’m horrible—I know!”

“You’re not horrible. The truth is—” You stop yourself before the words can slip out. I don’t love Azul. I’m not even pregnant. “I don’t know if you’ll ever figure any of that out, but I know you’re a good person. You obviously care about these things. If you didn’t, you wouldn’t be so worried.”

Marisa sniffles. “Thanks…”

“I can help you find your passion. There’s so much to do in the city. I’m sure something will catch your interest. Oh! Have you ever been to Siren’s Heartache? It’s a karaoke place. My friend and I used to go all the time.”

“I’ve been there once!”

“It’s amazing, isn’t it? My friend would order the craziest stuff off their menu. He hates sweets, but he’d get all kinds of sugary drinks and snacks for the hell of it. Said it didn’t matter because it’d look cute on camera, so no one needed to know if he enjoyed it.”

“He did it for the pictures? That’s it?”

“Yep! He loves photography. He’ll do anything to make sure he gets the best angles and lighting.”

“Wow… I don’t think I could be that dedicated.”

“No? Then what about schedules? My other friend used to be on these super rigid schedules. I’m sure he’s still on them now, but back then it was really suffocating. He’s always been so organized, though. It’s impressive.”

“Isn’t that too restrictive? Doesn’t he have any time for fun?”

“Would that be better? A free life filled with ups and downs or a rigid life you can plan around?”

“Both sound just as bad.”

“Isn’t that just life?”

She breathes a sardonic laugh. “From a pessimist’s perspective, sure.”

“What kind of life would you want?”

“Is it bad to say I want something easy?”

“No fair. You totally stole my answer!”

“Then maybe we’re both bad.”

“Yeah…” You stretch your legs out and flex your toes on your good foot. If that’s bad, then I’m the worst. “I guess we are.”

She giggles. “You’re supposed to disagree!”

“Oh, oops. Sorry.”

“It’s fine. I don’t think it’s so bad to want an easy life. If it were up to me, I’d want it to be like one giant tea party. That way everyone can come together for tea and tiny cakes.”

“And you wouldn’t have to work, so who cares if you’re rich or poor!”

“Exactly! There aren’t any expectations. You can be good or bad. Empty like me or passionate like you. It’s all just conversation at the end of the day.” She gazes at you, and her features relax into a real smile. “I wish we could’ve met sooner. You seem like a fun friend.”

Am I really? I feel like I’ve been nothing but trouble for Riddle and Azul. Even Cater…

You hum your acknowledgement before nodding towards her belly. “Have you thought of any names?”

“Nothing yet. I’m not very creative and I don’t want anything basic either. Something memorable would suffice.”

“Like your name.”

“Right! Only nothing connected to the sea.” Marisa chuckles sheepishly. “It wouldn’t mean anything to me.”

“Maybe it doesn’t have to mean anything significant. As long as it comes from the heart and you like it, it should be fine. At least, I think that’s how it works.”

“I have no idea. This is my first time.”

You nod. Somehow it feels like I’m indirectly lying to her…

“You’ll find a name that sticks one day. When you do, let’s get together and celebrate.”

“At the Siren’s Heartache?”

“Wherever you’d like.”

She gasps. “How about a tearoom? There’s this really cute one just outside the city. I go there all the time. The owners are the nicest people I’ve ever met! If we go, we can have our own tea party. You can bring your friend who likes photography. I’m sure he’ll get lots of pretty pictures.”

That’s impossible. We both know there’s no chance of—

“Marisa!” She startles at the urgency in your tone. You look and sound as if you’ve just cracked a cold case. “That’s it!”

“What is?”

“Your passion! Tea parties!”

“I always thought that was more of a hobby…”

“You can be passionate about hobbies. I’ve never gone to a tea party myself and I don’t know what that involves aside from drinking tea and eating snacks, but it sounds like a good time.”

“Oh, it’s the best time! I love dressing up for it, too. On nights when I knew I��d be going the next day, I arranged my outfit in advance. What jewelry I’d wear, what makeup I’d put on, what purse I’d bring… I could spend hours trying on my clothes and picking different pieces. And their afternoon tea sets—they’re everything! You have to try it if you go! I love their egg sandwiches. Well, everything they serve is delicious.”

Your lips quirk up in a playful grin. “See? You’re not empty.”

Stunned, Marisa sits there in the bath. “You’re right,” she mumbles. “I never realized it, but I love tea parties. I love talking with people over food and drinks. I guess it came so easy to me and I did it so often that I didn’t think anything of it.”

“Maybe we can add ‘socialization’ to the list of passions?”

She laughs, her hair bouncing with the movement. It comes right from her chest—authentic amusement—and it’s a musical sound. You wish there was another way. Jade may have shown you mercy, but you’re certain it won’t be the same for her. Even with these unlucky odds, you’re determined to try. It’s the only thing you can do. Try and hope that something goes well.

You gesture for Marisa to turn around. She almost questions you, but you hold your index up to shush her. She stares at you, her lips pressed in a tight line, and nods her understanding. As quietly as she can, she shuffles in the tub until her back is facing you.

“Hey, what’s this tearoom called again?” you ask as you reach for the biggest glass shard.

“It’s called Portobello.”

“Like the mushroom?”

“Mhm! It’s forest-themed. They’re famous for their chaga tea.”

“Huh…”

Of course it’s mushrooms. You glance at the door. Do you hear that, you freak? Sounds like the perfect place for a mushroom fanatic like yourself.

“Do you like mushrooms?”

“They’re okay. I don’t eat them often. I have so many other foods I prefer…” You trail off as you saw through thick rope with the jagged glass. “Actually, there was this one time I got fried chicken from the city. I was stupid drunk and nothing was open, so my fiancé took me to a convenience store. It was cheap, but it was so yummy! I guess everything is when you’re that gone… Anyway, he was so mortified when I woke up the next morning wanting more. That was the only thing I remembered from that night.”

“Why was he so embarrassed? I think convenience store food is great!”

“Right? You understand it.” You sigh and shake your head, recalling that memory with startling clarity. “Azul is… It’s hard to explain.”

“But you’re engaged?”

“I’m crazy, aren’t I? Marrying a man who gets flustered over fried chicken from the convenience store. He ate it in a fancy suit, too. What a weirdo.”

“He sounds funny.”

“The funniest. It was our first year together as…contractual obligations. He was so determined to make a good impression that he banned junk food from his life. We broke that dumb rule that night. I think that was the first time I saw the real him. He’s cute when he blushes.”

“Contractual obligations? Why not partners?”

You cough awkwardly. “J-Just an inside joke. He’s a businessman.”

“Ah, that makes sense.” She flexes her fingers just as you manage to cut through the first knot. “That’s sweet.”

“What?”

“You and him.”

“What about us?” Your hand hesitates, gripping the shard with new force. Any tighter and you might slice your palm open.

“You must’ve been so hungry, and he went out of his way to make sure you were fed even if it meant breaking his rule.”

“That was just—he hates having to owe people stuff. He was just repaying a favor.”

“My mother used to tell me a good man will visit for your best, but a great man will stay for your worst and everything in between.”

“I…guess.”

No way Azul likes me at my worst.

You shut your mouth and resume your previous motions. With her hands now freed, you lean over the tub to work on the rope binding her ankles.

“What about your boyfriend? You said you’re not sure if you love him?”

“I don’t know what I want. We’re happy being together without any rings or ceremonies, but I feel like that’s not enough. I feel like I’m not enough.”

“Maybe you should take your mother’s advice.”

“I will when you do.”

“H-Hey!”

She giggles. “I’m kidding. I think… I’m glad you have someone who cares. It’s no fun being alone all the time. Sometimes it’s good to share your peace with others, even if that’s getting fried chicken from the convenience store with a weird guy on a chaotic night.”

You laugh, but it comes out choked.

Yeah, Azul’s weird.

And then the first tear lands on her foot. It isn’t long before more rush forth, blurring your vision. You manage to cut her free from the rope just before it becomes impossible to see clearly. When you meet her stare next, she smiles. It’s strained with sorrow.

Why are you crying? She’s just a stranger.

You throw your arms around her and sob quietly into her shoulder. She runs her hand along your back. It’s meant to soothe, but all it does is remind you of the limited time you have with her.

I’m crying because she’s a stranger. Because she’s someone I’ll never be able to know more than this.

“Escape,” you whisper as you pull away, pressing the shard into her hand. “And when you do, wait for me and we’ll have our giant tea party.”

She nods, her eyes shimmering with sadness. “You can count on it.”

When Jade returns, syringe in hand, it’s to a room of suffocating silence. You’ve no idea what its liquid contents are, but it can’t be very pleasant or safe. Regardless, you don’t intend to find out. He steps through the door, looks squarely at you, and smiles. Your skin crawls.

Calm down. It’ll be okay.

“You took your time.”

“Did I? My apologies if I kept you waiting.”

“Have you ever had mushroom tea before?”

He pauses. “Mushroom tea?”

So he wasn’t listening in. Either that, or he’s just hesitating for effect.

“I’ve never had it before, but I’d assume someone with your palate would’ve tried it.”

He laughs humorlessly. “Is there a reason for this assumption?”

“You like mushrooms. Sounds like something that’d be right up your alley.”

“You would be correct.” Jade taps the needle, eyeing the liquid within the plastic cylinder. “I’ve had it before, yes.”

“Was it good?”

“Quite.”

His gaze drifts towards the empty tub and you panic. “W-Will you bring some for me to try?”

He blinks at you. An amused smile pulls his lips apart.

You can’t stop the scowl that forms on your face. “I can’t control what the baby wants.”

Just a little longer… Keep your eyes on me.

“I’d love nothing more for you to try it.”

“But?”

“But there isn’t nearly enough credible information detailing whether chaga is safe to consume while pregnant. It would be very unfortunate if you injured your parasite on account of my negligence.”

“Someone did their research.”

“Indeed.”

“So what’s a good substitute? I want mushroom tea.”

“Pouting about it won’t fix anything.” He reaches to pull the curtain away, and you lurch forwards. The chain rattles. You pause with outstretched arms. Jade watches you with a frown. “Is something the matter?”

You lower your arms. “No… N-No, sorry. Nothing’s wrong. I’m just…hungry.”

“As am I, so if you could stop stalling for her sake I would appreciate it.”

A bone-chilling cold blankets the bathroom.

Your laugh comes out brittle. “Who’s stalling?”

It happens so fast you wish it was slow motion. Maybe then your reaction time would’ve been better. Marisa springs out from behind the door just as Jade turns to view her. She shoves him with as much strength as she can muster, swiping at him with the glass shard. Somehow she manages to drive it into his arm. Taken by surprise, he grunts and shakes her off. The syringe clatters to the floor and you dive to snatch it before he can. With Jade temporarily thrown off, Marisa flees from the room as quickly as she can. You look on with wide eyes, the syringe clutched in a tight fist.

She’s doing it… She’s actually escaping!

Jade curls his fingers around the glass lodged in his skin and rips it out. Blood spurts from the cut, crawling down his arm in a red slither. The chunk rests on the tiles in front of you, and it fills you with a proud satisfaction knowing he’s injured, if only partially. By the time you’ve blinked, he’s already hurrying towards Marisa. She’s about to wrench the bedroom door open, her freedom just beyond the confines of his home, but he seizes her wrist and yanks her away.

Just like the syringe in your hand, your heart drops.

She yelps and twists in his hold, flailing blindly. The scene is eerily reminiscent of your scuffle with Jade—the one you’d gotten into when he revealed himself as the intruder in your apartment. You were drunk then, wholly incapable of fending him off, but Marisa isn’t. She has a chance. She can escape. There has to be a way for—

You watch her fall, cringing at the resonating thud as her back makes contact with the floorboards. Jade’s hands are around her throat before you even know it.

“N-No… Wait. Wait, stop!” You lurch towards them, but the chain only allows you to go so far. You strain against the pull, grabbing at the door frame in hopes of breaking out of the shackle’s restrictive hold. “Jade—”

Marisa’s choked gasp cuts you off. You stare at her hands as they claw at Jade’s in animalistic desperation. Her eyes are so wide you see white; her mouth is open in a silent scream. With Jade on top of her, pinning her to the floor and squeezing her neck with ruthless precision, she can only kick her legs out and produce a haunting garble of sounds as she battles an impossible enemy.

“Stop! Let go of her!”

You grit your teeth and tug against the cuff. It digs into your skin and leaves you aching from the sting. Tears sprout along your lash line, and you cry out in pained frustration. Your agony doesn’t reach Jade’s ears. Or maybe it does and he’s just tuning it out. You’re unsure until you catch sight of his expression. A blank, empty slate—that’s what he is. There’s something murderous smoldering in terrifying two-toned eyes, but his lips are pressed in a firm pout and his brows are pinched together. Not from any sort of distress but, rather, from the physical exertion. His forearms flex, every muscle riddled with tense adrenaline, and his fingers dig into her throat to cut her circulation.

From where you stand, struggling against your restraints, you think his pupils are blown wide. He looks predatory. Unhinged in a feral sort of way. Like a wild animal who’s just pounced on his prey…

A wild animal. That’s what he is right now. Something unbound by human morals and law. A creature led only by instinct—by the intrinsic desire to slaughter and feast.

“Jade!” You give another determined tug to no avail. “Jade, please—you can’t do this! She’s pregnant! She has a boyfriend—a life! You can’t!”

Your voice is shrill, scratching through your vocal chords as if it intends to shred them to ribbons. You’ve never heard yourself sound so panicked before. Never known the crushing devastation of being so close and yet so powerless.

No matter how much you scream, Jade continues to strangle her. You can’t bear to watch any longer. Sinking to the floor, you lean against the wall and press your hands to your ears. You don’t want to hear Marisa’s wheezing breaths. You don’t want to see her struggle. You don’t want to see Jade as he kills her in front of you.

You don’t want to be a witness. You want out.

After minutes of torturous asphyxiation, her thread of life is snipped and she finally fades away. Moments later, urine soaks through her shorts and pools beneath her in a puddle. You look up just in time to see him release her and rise to his full height. Heaving a sigh, Jade tucks his dark hair strand behind his ear. Marisa lies lifeless, a husk of the once bright, bubbly woman you interacted with before this. Now she’s gone.

“Y-You’re a monster…” you manage through thick, anguished sobs.

He killed her. She’s…dead. Jade killed her. I just watched her die and there was nothing I could do and I…let it happen.

“This could’ve been avoided. I was going to give her an easy death, but you forced my hand.” Jade steps around you to pick the syringe up. “Let’s add another rule to our list. Seeing as I’m not allowed to touch you, it’s only fair that you keep your nose out of my work in return.”

Dead… She’s dead. Marisa is…

“Does that sound agreeable, (Name)?”

There’s a ringing in your ears—the warning tick of a clock or the foreboding chime of a death knell. Amidst every overwhelming sensation and haywire emotion, self-preservation echoes in your head: I’ve got to get out of here.

You blink through blurring vision. Are you crying? Numbly, you touch your face. The tears are there, wetting your cheeks in copious amounts. Something’s scratching at the back of your eyes. It’s not enough to feel like sleep, but it’s a familiar sensation. You’re certain you’ve felt it before. But when?

You can’t stop crying.

She’s dead. She’s dead. She’s dead. She’s dead.

You suck in gulps of air.

I should’ve done more. I could’ve done more! There had to have been something—logically. You have to look at it logically. She was doomed to die the moment Jade brought her here.

You dig your nails into your arms.

We were going to have a tea party. I was going to help her find more passions. We were going to be friends…

You watch Jade bend down to her height and press two fingers to her neck. Suddenly, there are two Jades and both are tilting. He glances at you, but his words don’t reach your ears.

I was going to save her.

Your head hits the floor with a thump. The world goes dark.

Unlike previous times, the dream aquarium is bursting with life today. Moon jellyfish float peacefully behind sturdy glass. A manta ray glides smoothly through the water in laps. Fish of all colors and shapes are caught up in the current. The glow from the tanks dyes the hall in a cool ultramarine.

It’s quiet here. Safe. Comforting.

You’re lying on the floor, dressed in a clean hospital gown, and there is an entire galaxy of jellyfish above you. They’re set into the glass ceiling, their translucent bodies bobbing up and down in hypnotic patterns. You blink once and the blue brightens as if breathing alongside you. You blink again and this time a woman pokes her head into your visual field. Her milky-white eyes, though piercing, don’t frighten you. She blinks one eye at a time and her irises explode with color—now a vibrant green. Her long, black hair is tied back in a braid that sweeps over her shoulder. Tiny stars are twined throughout.

When she speaks, she has the same voice as the woman from the intercom.

“Today’s color is blue. As vast and wide as the sky and sea, as deep and dark as water’s soul, blue is the color of trust and sincerity. It is the color of bruises and sadness. It is the color of loneliness. It is the color that has finally led me to you.”

You stare at her, spooked speechless.

“Hello again, (Name).” She smiles and offers her gloved hand. “It’s been a while. Many years, in fact. I thought I’d never be able to catch you.”

You hesitate. Can you trust her—the woman you’ve spent so many dreams pursuing? There’s no one else here in this hall. She’s your only option. Swallowing your fears, you grab her hand and allow her to hoist you to your feet.

“My name is Marmoris. Ah, I must inform you that I’ve taken the form of someone familiar, so please note that this isn’t the current me. My true form is…not very pleasant. I wouldn’t want to startle you with it.”

“The current you? Your true form?” You draw away from her and bump into the tank behind you. Turning around, you gaze at the image slowly forming within murky waters. It’s…Jade’s bathroom. And there’s Jade, stooped over Marisa’s corpse. He’s looking at you next. You place your hand against the glass, but the scene doesn’t disappear. “W-What is this? What’s going on?”

Marmoris joins you at the tank. Her reflection warps with a myriad of aquatic traits. At one point, you think you see fins where her ears ought to be—shadows of wispy tendrils where her lab coat once was. “You’ll have to forgive me. There was no other way. You’ve already seen too much.” She shuffles closer to you. Her hands cover your eyes next. “Please don’t look. I’m sorry I couldn’t protect you.”

You squirm out of her hold. The picture presented in saltwater clouds in and out of clarity. “Protect me? I don’t understand. What do you mean by—”

“There’s not much time. I can’t keep you in here any longer than I already have.” She grabs hold of your hands and squeezes them. She looks sincere enough, but you can’t get past the fact that, though she claimed to take on the appearance of someone familiar, you can’t recognize this woman’s features.

She’s a stranger.

Before you can protest further, Marmoris leans in close and presses a kiss to your forehead. Her lips are frigid. The transient security of the desolate dream aquarium melts away, taking you with it.

“I promise I’ll explain everything the next time we meet. When we do, look for me. I’ll be waiting.”

You jerk awake with a gasp. Your hands fly to your throat on instinct. Slowly, while catching your breath, you peer around the bathroom. Marisa has been moved to the tub and Jade’s in the process of cleaning the floor. He glances at you. His arm is bandaged.

“Welcome back.”

You shoot him a withering look. “Eat glass and die.”

“Wouldn’t that please you?”

“It would,” you whisper weakly, more tears spilling over. “It really would.”

For the first time in a while, you can’t recall any slivers of your dream.

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