mellowwillowy - Tumblr blog

mellowwillowy · 7 days ago

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Series of My Serial Killer

When wandering around in a half conscious state, you must always be careful not to cross paths with the wrong entity. In the middle of an unfortunate night, you ran into a serial killer— prompting him to make your life a living hell for his amusement through your cell phone and mind.

📲 Masterlist

CW: Cthulhu mythos inspired, referencing Nyarlathotep, mutilation, NPC death, scarring, supernatural occurrences. WC_4.1k

The night spent in the city's most bustling nightclub was the best night you would ever have if only you hadn't entered the wrong VIP room. You wished the drugs and alcohol were doing things to your mind but the sight of this man mutilating a woman was too vivid to be a hallucination. You could barely see any of their faces but you could have sworn you saw him flashing his canine smile at you. If it wasn't for the last ounce of bravery left in your soul, your knees would have given up and eventually had you fall as his next victim.

Just before he could call out to you, your hand had already reached the handle and opened the door— urging you to dash out of the room as quickly as possible. You were supposed to enter the room on either the right side or the left side of that sicko’s.

You tried your luck on the room on the left first only to find out it was locked from the inside. You didn’t know this club had the policy that allowed people to lock it. Now that the room on the left side was out of topic, you scurried to the room on the right— too scared to leave the club alone. Your hand tried to push the door open but it just wouldn’t budge. You thought you lost all strength in your arm because of fear and the narcotics but by the time you placed your ear onto the door, you realized there was no sound from the inside.

Were you in the wrong hall? You glanced around and felt goosebumps all over your body.

Now that you paid more attention to your surroundings, there was no one around anymore. The music that made your ribcages vibrate fell silent on your ears as well. You called out to anyone nervously, hands still desperate to push open the heavy door to no avail. You wished you were on your acid trip and were just hearing sounds you didn’t but the heels clacking against the marble floor sounded a little too real to your liking.

If you felt a ghostly hand feeling the back of your neck, you paid no mind to it and started praying to the god you never believed in your whole life. Although you didn’t turn around to see, you knew the man was standing behind you— his hand playing with your hair.

He caressed your ear gently and whispered into it. “Why did you leave before I could talk to you?”

You scrunched your eyes closed and swung your arm behind, hoping that the impact from your fist colliding with his face would be enough to stagger him and give you a chance to run away. The feeling of having the bottom of your fist hitting something never came and when you peeked out of curiosity, there were already people looking at you weirdly.

They might have thought you were too far gone and started hallucinating. The door behind you was already open by your friend, her face mirrored the other strangers. “Are you nuts? What are you doing out there swinging your arm like a madman?”

You stood there confused for a minute until her hand yanked you inside. You didn’t waste a second telling her about your discovery, urging her to call the security to check the room. Your friends were very unwilling to do so yet they were kind enough to sacrifice someone’s face to call for the security.

You didn’t have the guts to walk out and watch. Although the room was too dark to discern their faces, you could still hear the squelching noises coming out of her mouth, gasping and gagging from the blood. Why was the image of her wound so vivid in your mind when you could barely see anything?

A hand on your shoulder woke you up from your trance. It was your friend. “They’ve checked it out and it’s just filled with frat boys.”

What?

You dashed out and went straight to the supposed room. It was just as your friend said, frat boys partying like wild apes as ever— nobody, no blood, no knives, no nothing. The securities looked at you funny. They advised you not to go overboard and chew more than what you could handle, obviously referring to how pathetic you were right now.

Stunned and embarrassed, you just let your friends drag you back into the room and went on with the party. Feeling sick from thinking too much about what had happened earlier, you downed all the beverages like a thirsty beast. You weren’t sure how much time had passed but it seemed that you accidentally fell asleep.

After a while, you woke up feeling groggy, still disoriented from the alcohol and sleep. Looking around, none of your friends were in sight and you thought they had left you alone. You should have felt upset yet the system in your body was too tired to even think properly. You looked for your phone but it was nowhere to be seen. Did one of them mistake your phone for theirs?

And as if things couldn’t have gone any worse, the door wouldn’t budge when you tried to pull it open. You inspected it closely, squinting your eyes to try and see if there was any lock on it from the bare lighting the disco ball provided. Your hand also felt the entire handle, trying to feel any bump that indicated it was locked but to no avail.

‘You didn’t know this club had the policy that allowed people to lock it.’

Your heart sank and you tried to pull it open again forcefully, this time easily swung open to the point you tumbled back from the force. You looked around again, and the entire hall was empty and the music was gone again. You didn’t have a phone with you so you couldn’t reach out to any of your friends— leaving you with no choice but to walk out and find the security.

The reason why you were so unwilling to leave was that you would have to pass the room where the killer was. If only you had heard the men howling like idiots inside the room, you would have passed with ease.

You had to brace yourself for a minute before you steeled yourself to make a run for it. The goal was simple, run straight with your eyes closed until you either bumped into someone or passed the room. In the count of three, you ran as fast as possible, trying to ignore the feeling that many eyes were staring at you.

Thinking that you had run far enough, you opened your eyes and stopped in your tracks to catch your breath.

If your heart had already sunk earlier, then this time it was finally out of your body.

You were still in the hallway, in front of your room.

Standing in disbelief with goosebumps rising again, you didn’t think twice and made your run again with your eyes closed. Yet no matter how far or many times you ran, you would always return to your room.

You were too tired to run anymore, and your stomach flipped in pain from all the running. You unconsciously walked toward the end of the hallway with your eyes open this time, ignoring the creeping invisible gazes from the room until you suddenly felt something tugging you by your ankle just before you could walk further away from the killer’s room door.

You shrieked and looked down at what held you— a cold woman's hand whose nails were already torn from its nail beds, her blood trickling onto the marble floor. Although her vocal cords were fucked beyond hope, you could still hear her choking on her blood, pleading for your help.

Just before you could crouch down and help her, you heard another pair of clacking shoes walking out of the dark room. Despite the overall cold temperature in this hallway, you were entirely drenched in cold sweats.

The same man who flashed his canine smile at you was leaning against the door frame— staring at you gleefully. He sported a wild mane of golden straw hair, tousled like a breeze had just danced through it. Draped in a warm greige blazer paired with a dark shirt and trousers, it made him looked like a high-end gigolo in your mind. But what caught your attention the most were his striking golden-like eyes that suited his pale complexion. With such a charming face and admirable body, you thought the woman might have been drooling for him while actively ignoring how terrifying his shallow smile was.

In a singsong voice, he called out to you. “Why did you leave before I could talk to you?”

Your knees finally gave up on you, prompting you to fall and kneel below his stature. Even if you didn’t want to see his face, something inside you was tugged to not tear your gaze off from him. Even if staring at his eyes burned your eyes, there was something that forced you not to take your eyes off his.

It felt like having your head hung high to stare at the noose that will execute you.

The man just stared at you happily the entire time. Perhaps he pitied you enough to nudge some sense into you with the tip of his shoe onto your knee. You were almost so certain you’d die kneeling like a statue that night or lying on the floor with the woman’s corpse, neck slit open and legs missing.

He offered you his hand to help you stand while absentmindedly stomping on the woman’s wrist to loosen its grip on your ankle. “It’s getting late now. You should go back to the hotel where you were staying with your friend.”

You breathed in lightly, trying your best not to pass out at any moment from all the stress that was accumulating inside of you. You inwardly promised yourself to abstain from drinking and doing drugs— living in seclusion as a monk.

Just before you could give him a shallow thank you, he said: “But I want you to promise me this. You must never ignore my messages.”

He didn’t say anything else and let you walk away limply with your wobbly legs. When you glanced back to check on him, he was still standing in the same spot, smiling at you. The woman’s corpse on the other hand was suddenly missing. Creeped out, you made your run to the nearest security post.

Fortunately, there were bouncers in sight along with the security stationed outside. You rambled to them about what you had been seeing inside. You didn’t care if they would throw you into a mental rehabilitation afterward, not when you could still feel the woman’s cold hand around your ankle.

The bouncer had no choice but to order the others to check on it through his walkie-talkie upon knowing your friend. You followed one of the security inside and carefully eyed your surroundings. The situation had returned back to normal, there were still people dancing on the dance floor— teenagers making out in the dark corner with barely anything covering their skin.

The bouncer made their way inside the room where the killer was supposed to be. You could hear the frat boys squealing like apes and the judging eyes from them and the security. This would be the second time you ruined everyone’s good time.

Unable to entertain you any longer, they escorted you into a taxi to your hotel. The whole ride was silent, your eyes staring at the scenery of the city. Despite being so late in the hour, most of them still had their lights on. Just before you could fall asleep, you felt something sticky crawling on your hand.

You yelped in surprise and hurriedly turned on the car’s light. The driver was taken aback by your sudden outburst, but it wouldn’t rival your seconds. Although there wasn’t any spare seat behind you, that man’s face was reflected in the car’s window in front of you.

You screamed atop of your lungs, causing the drivers to panic and drive uncontrollably— nearly crashing into the nearest street light. You had to turn off the lights after the driver berated you for scaring him into a car crash. The whole ride became awkward and you made sure to tip him generously by the time you arrived at the hotel’s lobby.

Since you didn’t have the room’s key with you, you would have to ring the doorbell manually, hoping it would at least wake them up.

After a while, someone patted you from behind— causing you to shriek again. Your friend was startled by you and hurriedly shushed you. “What are you doing out here? Didn’t you say you want to sleep?”

Fuck. What is it now?

You didn’t feel like explaining anything anymore and just asked her to open the door for you. She seemed confused as to why you didn’t bring the key card with you but shrugged it off, unlocking the door with the spare key card she had. As expected, the main key card was still slotted inside the keycard reader.

You saw your cell phone on the nightstand and hurried to grab it. There weren’t any missed calls or texts from any of your friends which meant they either didn’t lose you or just didn’t care about you. You wished you could trust the latter but seeing how confused she was, you figured it had something to do with that man his supernatural power.

A notification popped up just before you shut your phone. It was a number saved as ‘Nyarla’ yet you had no idea who this person could be. Was it a funny nickname you gave to one of your friends? You pressed the notification and read his messages.

Heyyy.

I see you are finally back.

You shouldn’t have scared the driver with your scream. We almost got into a car crash, y’know.

You instinctively blocked the number and powered your phone off. There’s no way that was your hallucination, not when you were not a fucking programmer who had any idea how to make a messenger application.

Too tired to do anything else, you plopped yourself into bed and snoozed off the dreamland— ignoring your friend’s chattering and the feeling that something was watching you.

***

The sound of your phone’s alarm woke you up. It only gave you a couple of hours left when it showed ’08:00’ on your face. Your friend was nowhere to be seen, she had most likely for the breakfast buffet.

Feeling how stiff your muscles had been, you stretched for a minute or so until someone called you. It was your friend so you accepted the call. “Hello?”

Shortly after that, you heard someone ring the doorbell to your room. You excused yourself from the phone for a moment, hurrying to the front door. Beyond the door was your friend calling out to you to unlock the door for her.

Your heart sank for the first time this morning and you turned your head to your cell phone so fast it almost fell off. The caller was also your friend outside and she was also talking to you in her voice. Just before you decided whether you wanted to open the door, the caller confirmed your suspicion. “Didn’t I tell you not to ignore my messages?”

Your friend was startled by how hard you opened the door for her. She was surprised to see that you were already awake— especially when she had spent a good 10 minutes beating you to wake you up. She said you were sleeping like a corpse so she had no choice but to leave with the others first but she forgot to bring her spare keycard.

Not wanting to be left alone in the room, you begged her to wait for you to wash up. It would only be a 5-minute wait so she didn’t mind. You hurried to the bathroom and washed up. There wasn’t enough time to shower so you just doused yourself in perfume.

Done with everything, you tried to leave the bathroom but the door just wouldn’t budge. You called out to your friend for help but the lights suddenly went out. The telephone line to the receptionist was cut off entirely so she went out to ask for help.

The inside of the bathroom was pitch black and your phone was on the bed— giving you no choice but to sit on the toilet in silence and fatigue. You thought you should really start living in seclusion as a monk instead of going on holidays from now on.

At the very least, meditation would teach you not to feel scared of the feeling of being watched by many eyes in here.

You shivered from the sudden gust of chill that enveloped you, wrapping yourself with the spare towels inside the bathroom. It was taking too long for help to arrive so you tried your luck again and pulled the door. Surprisingly, it opened with ease and you wasted no time getting yourself out of the bathroom.

The phone on your bed suddenly rang and it was your friend— she must have thought you brought your phone inside as well. You had no choice but to accept it. She was relieved to know you managed to get out of the bathroom and informed you that it was only your room that was out of lights.

A chill suddenly ran down your spine when the call was abruptly put on hold. You tried to dial it again but it wouldn’t come through. Although the signal was perfectly fine, all texts that were sent to her were not delivered as well.

But someone’s text managed to come through your phone.

It was Nyarla’s.

Why did you shut your phone down before you replied to me?

Fuck fuck fuck. Now that you remember, who set the alarm for you? You never had any alarms set so how did the phone power on by itself? You wanted to leave this city and completely forget about all of these.

You tried to block his number but another text came in.

Don’t block me again. It hurts my feelings, y’know?

Someone from the outside rang the doorbell and you dashed toward the door. You peeked through the peephole and saw a bellboy with a letter for you. Relieved by the arrival of a hotel staff, you ignored the phone call from ‘Nyarla’.

The moment your hand held the door’s handle, a thought crossed your mind. A letter? Who mails a letter in the 21st century? Your hand paused and you peeked outside again, this time you were met with his golden eyes staring through the peephole as well.

Your body froze from horror and he backed away to flash you his signature smile that flashed his canine. “Still not gonna talk to me? Then you are asking for it.”

He showed you the key card to your room.

You screamed at him to leave you alone— hand frantically trying to reject his phone call to call out to your friend but the button wouldn’t even budge. You heard the door clacked and screamed even louder, hoping to catch anyone’s attention but why would there ever be anyone when he appeared? You crouched down and shielded your face from seeing him, afraid that your eyes would burn again if you stared into his.

He crouched down to meet your eye level and his hands forcefully tore it away from your face.

Even if your eyes were scrunched close tightly, it felt like there was something cold and sticky forcing them open. You had no choice but to open them when they started to poke inside your eyelids. No one would ever understand how it felt to stare into the sun directly without blinding themselves but you did.

His eyes resembled those of a sun, not comically bright yet blinding you with how much it burned your eyes. You wanted to look away but it felt like they were luring you deeper into the pitch black oblivion despite how bright they were.

Now that you were out of your mind, he could easily carve his sign on your wrist— a sigil etched on your flesh that could never be erased through any human procedures or surgeries.

“I wouldn’t have done this if you didn’t ignore me, but you left me with no choice.”

Then he blinked, freeing you from his influence which allowed you to feel the pain of being burned and cut open. The wound healed quickly and became a scar, too intricate to be carved by any knives and its position was too dangerous to be considered a cosmetic scarring.

He cooed into your ear. “Oh trust me, you are very lucky that I am feeling benevolent that night.”

“And you are indeed very lucky that I am still feeling benevolent until now.” He said in a much darker voice, his hand squeezing your scarred wrist so hard that tears came out of your eyes. Every pressure he put in his grasp felt like you were being branded by a hot branding rod.

You thought you were hallucinating from the amount of pain that surged into you but when you heard your friends’ voices outside the door, you were hoping that perhaps this man was feeling merciful toward you. He didn’t even spare a glance at the door, only staring at you the whole time— admiring how pathetic you looked.

By the time the door clacked open, his palm was already on your face— an unfamiliar scent overwhelmed you and caused you to pass out.

***

Your friends didn't waste a moment calling for an ambulance when they couldn't wake you up. You were sent to the ER to be checked immediately but upon the assessment, the doctor discharged you. You didn't remember what the assessment even was, too lost in your thoughts when you stared at your scarred wrist when the doctor was talking to your friend. He assumed your spacing out had to do with the hallucinogen you consumed last night. The scar he left wasn't an ugly mark per se, but it was too eye-catching, and having to come up with a lie every time someone asked you was troublesome.

What was supposed to be a fun trip ended with you coming back home with an entity that haunted your day and night. You had not met him again after the last meeting but you would always catch a glimpse of him every day. Sometimes, he would be the sleep paralysis demon that blew kisses onto your face. You wished you could see his face whenever he paralyzed you in your sleep but it seemed that he knew how to edge you.

The mark that used to be painful whenever he applied pressure on it now felt good every time he playfully rubbed his fingers on it. Why wouldn't he know? He was clearly having fun edging you to madness. Most of the time he would toy with a different kind of lunacy but just as he said— he was feeling benevolent. Rather than sacrificing you into nothing, he wanted you to be the perpetrator who lived to sacrifice for him.

Anyone else who dared to question him or even blatantly ignored him would have at the most merciful way, a bullet on their forehead. But not you. He seemed to see something inside of you that piqued his interest which allowed you to still stay alive in lunacy.

Truth be told, he was too hot-headed when dealing with that woman that night. It was simply your bad luck of being in the wrong place at the wrong time. Nyarla wasn't attentive enough and he didn’t expect someone of an aptitude could cross through the dimension he had failed to alter perfectly.

His interest in you was shallow but since it had been a while since such an accident happened, he supposed he could blow off some steam on you instead of mocking other gods. Once someone gazed into the sun too closely, they'd lose all sense of morality and normalcy. A much more benevolent god would pity you for losing your mind in such an abrupt way but not for him.

Mortal could not comprehend the depth of a god's heart and but be assured, he could entertain you until the day you would be sacrificed to him.

It wouldn’t be as scary as it sounded if it guaranteed you a chance to see him for all eternity, right?

#Love Crafts Horror!#LCH: Nyarla #CatboX #Yandere x Reader #x GN Reader #this is more of a fucking horror writing lesson for me #reader troubling everyone in a single night and morning is baffling me #reader needs to check on their heart soon #Referencing: HP Lovecraft #Cthulhu Mythos #and so on #it’s Nyarlathotep #oh and this is a rework on the first fic #yandere nyarlathotep

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mellowwillowy · 8 days ago

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Foreign Pets

A god who finally gained consciousness was confused when he realized his mate was still trapped in the bubble that barricaded all knowledge from you.

CW: Cthulhu mythos inspired, non-con (no smut). Reader’s gender not stated but breeding mentioned. Could be GN if you want.

📽 Masterlist

Eons ago, two Outer Gods resided in the dimly lit regal palace. Beyond human comprehension, these two creations could only be understood as children of the Elder Gods, who would soon be used to repopulate the entirety of the cosmic.

Adorned in pristine white clothes, it almost matched the blinding palace where they lived. Just like a cage made of silver displayed under the spotlight, no eyes were ever meant to grace themselves in this place. But not for them and the elders.

Neither of them knew what purpose they were made for aside from a superficial reasoning such as repopulating the extinction of the current cosmic nature. They were meant to be mates ever since the time they were spawned in. Or perhaps, there was never them in this scenario. There might only be one who was real all along.

Despite not sharing the same face or body, Azazel and you were raised to co-exist as one. If two flowers could exist on the same branch, the two of you were not granted such a concept. To be exact, the concept had always been hard to decipher even until now. Neither of you knew who was supposed to be the one and the elders never made a clear point about it.

The two of you could only grasp the idea that each of you was meant to obey their words. Living emotionlessly in order to understand the other or rather, mimic them— there was never a day when either of you slipped up. What the other felt should also be felt by the other twin for there had always only been one. But good things never lasted long and the elder’s expectation on them was crushed to dust by Azazel.

Azazel had seemingly started to think. He started by questioning himself in the middle of a sleepless night. Such a thing was not supposed to happen, the dinner had always been laced with something that would keep you both asleep for as long as the elders wished.

He asked himself, why was he awake? Wasn't he supposed to be asleep just like you sleeping on the other bed? He tried to squeeze his eyes, forcing himself to sleep because he didn't know what else he was supposed to do. Truth be told, he was mostly fearful of what the elders would do to him if they found out about him being the only one out of place.

But perhaps they wouldn't be as angry if they realized both he and you were awake? Azazel hurried himself to your bed, crawling toward you. His breath hitched when he saw your face and body that was graced by the ‘moon’ light through the windows. He knew you were beautiful just like him but he had never thought of you as being this ethereal. Sure, the elders praised you to be more beautiful than him sometimes, or even as the most beautiful— though he couldn't understand what charmed them, he remained silent until tonight.

It almost felt like all the air was punched out of him when he stared into your long eyelashes that equaled his. He couldn't understand why but he could only think that he had never seen the real you all along. Tonight had to be a miracle for him— to finally be able to think, feel, and see who his other self was supposed to be.

He dared not lay a finger on you but his eyes couldn't help but lower onto the skimpy nightwear you were wearing. You had always been adorned in modest white frilly dresses so this sight was his first. The outer robe that was covering your body when the two of you were escorted to the bedchamber lay next to you, no longer protecting the beautiful unblemished skin you had.

Your breath remained even whereas his had started to be uneven. Your heart beat evenly whereas his heart was beating a thousand times faster. You remained asleep whereas he was awake. You remained indifferent whereas he was the opposite of it.

Azazel finally realized how the two of you were never supposed to be one. Even if they sewed him and you together on the same body, he knew that wouldn't make the two of you as one. Still afraid of doing anything, Azazel walked back to his bed and tossed and turned the whole night. The feelings he had for you earlier— what was it supposed to be? He couldn't just ask the elders and the study session and always been limited. Perhaps he ought to try and find books that were forbidden to be read.

By the time the ‘sun’ rose again, the servants with their faces covered by a cloth walked into your shared chamber to wake the two of you. Azazel tried to put on his best act up, acting as though he had been shaken awake by their cold voice. He glanced toward your way and watched how the servants adjusted your slipping nightgown. It was nothing too erotic but he felt a bit strange in his stomach.

Suddenly, one of them spoke up from the corner, “Breakfast has been served in the dining room.”

You nodded at her message and walked toward the exit together with the servants while Azazel stood stiffly for a while until the servants guided him out as well.

The two of you would usually walk side by side in harmony, both footsteps clacking in union but that day, Azazel was walking behind you. While he couldn't see your back since the servants were surrounding you, he felt like this was a whole new experience. He contemplated walking faster to be by your side but he wouldn't want to alert the servants with his change of pace. Every little thing about the two of you was a detail that couldn't be missed by them and if this was reported to the elders, he feared something unpleasant might follow.

You sat across the table, eyes locked on the disgusting food that was plated beautifully to cover the lack of appeal. For the first time, Azazel’s brows scrunched from the stench it emitted. To call something as disgusting as this breakfast was pushing it too far. Even pigs would be served better food than he was right now. Unable to do anything, Azazel forced himself to eat it.

He was never aware of how horrendous the taste was. If it weren’t for his rigorous training on maintaining his indifferent face, he would have blown his cover. He glanced toward you who was sitting a couple of meters away from him, eyes scanning for any distaste in your face but he saw none. Just a genuine, indifferent face eating the disgusting thing called a meal with a blank mind. What went behind those eyes of yours? Thoughtless and helpless, he wondered why he was finally free from the position you were currently in.

Azazel finished the meal just in time when you were done. What came after breakfast was a study session. Sometimes, there would be an elder teaching the two of you while the other times, you two were allowed to study whatever the library had to offer. Today was the day when the elders allowed you two a free study session.

Azazel roamed through the libraries, trying to find something to read. Another miracle occurred as he found a book that wasn’t supposed to be there. None of the servants was attentive enough to notice that it was a book that had not been rewritten by the elders to brainwash them. Azazel scanned through each word carefully while being baffled by the entries.

It told him stuff that was the complete opposite of what the elders always told him.

Did he read the wrong book? As much as he’d like to think this was a mistake on the elders' side to not screen the books in the library, a voice in his head said otherwise.

What if the screening was meant to forbid them from knowing what they weren’t allowed to?

Azazel glanced at the servants scattered around the library and noticed none of them had noticed the book in his hand. He was feeling uneasy, and the book in his hands suddenly felt like it weighed a ton. It felt like the book was judging his ignorance. It was ridiculous to think a book had the capacity to do so but he felt like he was being ridiculed by it.

A pat on his shoulder startled him, his head swung so fast his long, silver hair slapped your face. You didn’t even groan, just winced from the impact while rubbing your eyes. “The elders called for us.”

Azazel blinked at your face. “Right.” He replied, keeping his answer short as usual.

He knew why they called.

They wanted to have the two of you talk heart to heart.

The walk to the supposed room was not short. The palace’s size was way too large for its own good. After many turns, the two of you reached in front of the room, and the tall double doors with both of you illustrated on it were opened by the servants inside. The inside of the room was dimly lit and what caught everyone’s attention was the wide blank space with folding screens surrounding it.

The two of you walked toward it and sat facing front to each other. Azazel never realized how uncomfortable heel sitting could be when his knees felt how rough the cold floor. A voice echoed upon seeing the two of you properly seated, announcing the conversation you two should hold.

They called it as bonding and perhaps courting— but Azazel knew this was just a form of entertainment for the elders. It felt like an owner walking their dog and letting their dog play with another while the owners admired them or chatted with each other.

Pets. That would have to be the word that describes him right now.

“How has your day been, Azazel?” You asked him.

Azazel didn’t take his gaze off you despite feeling uncomfortable from the gazes of the elders sitting behind the folding screen. Seeing how none of the elders spoke up about today’s conversation topic, he figured out they wanted him to talk freely with you.

“It’s been great. I found an interesting book to read today,” said Azazel. “A one of a kind.”

You paid no mind to his implication but the elders couldn’t help but be curious. They had no right to intervene during this conversation the moment you two started conversing. Only when the clock rang were they allowed to talk with any of you.

He heard one of the servants approaching the elders and it seemed that his guess was correct. They were really keeping a close eye on the two of you. Soon, the servant left the room and most likely went to the library to find the said book. It wouldn’t be Azazel if he didn’t prepare himself early on— the book had already been destroyed by him the moment he was done reading it.

There was no need for him to fear that he might forget what was in it when he had a memory of an archive though it was a shame he couldn’t show you what he read. Perhaps he could just write it for you in the future. The boring conversation went on until the clock rang— prompting the two of you to stand up and leave together with the servants.

Azazel had no idea where the elders were heading but it was none of his concern just yet. Since the ‘Sun’ hasn’t sunk, none of you were allowed to rest yet. It was either spending the rest of the time studying or mindlessly paying respect to the elders' statues. To hell with the second choice, he’d rather sit and read the stupid books that had been whitewashed.

As much as he hated being in this awkward situation alone, he still couldn’t find a way to shake you awake. Decades passed and although the plan for the elders to have the two of you to repopulate to give them more slaves was inching closer, you remained mindless. He was getting desperate to break free from the elders’ control.

It was not out of noble wish or moral, he just hated the idea of being used for their benefit. He was not a cattle for them to be used to breed, he was his own sentient being. He was growing uneasy, the longer he remained aware of everything, the more on edge he was to just throw everything away, and at the very least, die trying to kill the elders.

That would be a better way to live, messing their plans up after investing for so long would surely give them a blow. Azazel spent yet another sleepless night, tossing and turning on his bed. The ‘Moon’ was covered by the mist tonight yet he could still see your body clearly.

He had always thought you looked beautiful.

Azazel stood up from his bed and walked toward yours as usual. It started easily, from admiring you for a while to feeling your skin. Then, it took a turn to feeling your body pressed against his, cradling you before the servants walked in— then a kiss on your temple, your cheek, your neck, and your lip.

He never crossed the line, or so he thought. What was even the line? Was there ever any line between him and you when you were already meant to be his mate? What was the point of courting you if it wasn’t for this?

His right hand roamed further than he should have. He never knew you had soft flesh down there.

Came morning, you woke up without any idea that he was feeling you again. The servants weren’t aware too as he never left any evidence of it. He knew better than to attract any unwanted attention from the elders.

But perhaps it would be fun to play with you before he executed his plan in motion.

The breakfast was spent in silence. When the meal was too disgusting for him to stomach, he would secretly stow it away. He figured out that he did indeed have an immeasurable power after testing the waters for so long. Something as stupid as this was as simple as waving his finger. You, on the other hand, were still obedient as ever. Or to be exact, as mindless as ever.

Come the studying session, he started to look for more books that weren’t whitewashed by the elders. It wasn’t as hard as he expected it to be, there were actually many that weren’t properly screened. He had tried to make you read it but you were too far gone to understand what he was trying to tell you. Pressing that matter further would only alert the servants so he decided to drop the idea of feeding you this knowledge.

His hands were no longer kept to himself when the elders or servants were away. He liked to touch you though he couldn’t say the same about you looking at him confused. Whenever the courting session came and the elders and servants left you both, he would seize this as a chance to have a genuine conversation with you. It wasn’t as interesting as he expected per se, but at the very least he didn’t have to bullshit his way talking the same thing every day for their questionable entertainment.

Well, he supposed that would end tonight.

He had crafted the perfect extract to cancel the sleeping poison they fed you every night. No, he wouldn’t let you drink it all— that would simply mean he’d wake you up for naught. He wanted to make this as gut-wrenching as possible for you. How would someone feel waking up to someone else they trusted completely assaulting you?

Fear? He doubted that. You wouldn’t know fear of anyone else but the elders because that was how he felt. Disappointment? Of what? There was never a genuine bond formed between you and him, it had always been superficial and artificial for you but not for him.

He enjoyed it. But for you?

You woke up from the bite he gave you with a jolt, blood trickling into his mouth. Your eyesight was blurry, still in a daze from the shock he gave you but he didn’t give you a long time to recover when he tore your neck open to inflict more pain. You yelped from the burn, trying to push him away from you.

“Finally awake?” Azazel sneered at your pathetic state. Half awake and half stupid, your white nightwear drenched in red. But you didn’t express enough emotion just yet. In that case, he would have to rile you up even more.

His hands had always been careful and gentle when feeling you— but now they barely reflected what he had been doing. The bruising grip on your legs forcefully pulled you closer to him. Face to face again, Azazel wasted no time closing the distance entirely with his lip against yours. You weren’t sure how to feel about it. Disgust? Anger?

It felt too foreign to be described in a simple word. His tongue seemed to be at a normal human length and his teeth clashing against you wasn’t a nice sensation when it hurt. The throbbing pain from the pressure he put on your ankle was uncomfortable as well. Even if there was no need for you to breathe, kissing for minutes was tiring and made you feel lightheaded.

By the time he was done kissing you, you were already gone in the head— too overwhelmed to think or speak clearly. Azazel sneered. “You look so stupid right now. But what else can I say about the domesticated pet of the elders?”

Now that was a hit to your ego.

“But since you are just a pet, I figure they wouldn’t punish me harshly for breeding it.”

One.

Your expression changed for the first time into anger. “What?”

Azazel shook his head. “Aren’t you a stupid one.”

Two.

“I guess I shouldn’t be too poetic with this. Romanticizing it wouldn’t convey the real meaning to you.”

Three.

“Raping your own mate sounds funny, doesn’t it?”

Four.

Your hand moved faster than your mind, instinctively aiming at his face. Your face’s color changed from red to black, veins bulging in anger. Azazel spat out the blood out of his mouth, the impact of your punch was not a joke.

The two of you were finally seeing each other heart to heart.

For the first time in all his life, Azazel’s smile finally reached his eyes. “What do you say if we spend the night talking heart to heart for the first time?”

Once the two of you grasped the situation entirely, the plan would be set into motion. It might not be now that you could break free from the elders’ control but perhaps the spawns would assist you. Seeing how desperate Azazel could be for all of this, perhaps he had always meant well?

The servants weren’t aware of what had happened last night— the wound and bruises were gone and the bed sheet and your nightwear were spotless. But not for Azazel’s heart. His kiss felt a little bit too intimate to be called a means to rile you up. He could have just done anything else simpler than that.

You glanced toward his way and finally realized the smile that he had put on his face.

Had he always looked so unnerving when he stared at you?

#Love Crafts Horror!#LCH: Azazel #Referencing: Azathoth from HP Lovercraft #Yandere x Reader #X GN Reader #Eldritch Horror #Cthulhu Mythos #CatboX #yandere azathoth

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