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sirenat-t · 3 months ago

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(I’m Happy For Your Sorrow; Yandere Clemens x Reader Part 3)

FINALLY! It’s complete! The Yandere Clemens Averink series has come to its conclusion after over a year! Thank you so much if you’ve stuck with me this far into the project, and of course a huge thank you to @blackmoonowl for allowing us to use her characters in our own works!

I wanted this finale to capitalize on the horror aspects of yandere, as this trope should always be used for horror stories and never actual romance (I will die on this hill). Please be warned, this chapter contains stalking, psychological horror, attempted (possibly actual) murder, and being trapped in a very bad ‘relationship’. If these are triggering to you, then please skip over this chapter🙏

Without further ado, here is the grand finale you’ve been waiting for!

————————————————————————Clemens was never one to jump into an idea without thinking it over to the fullest degree. Finding a way to get you into his grip physically is different than doing so mentally. Mental manipulation was easy enough for him. People are like chess in that sense. Your choice determines their next move, and if they are easy enough, you can back them into a corner using your foresight and their gullibility alone. However, once you get good enough at it, it becomes more akin to a chore than a game. That’s what it had become for Clemens. People are so predictable to him that it’s no longer interesting. However, you were strange in the way that he couldn't truly wrap his head around the way you thought. Truly, the world had been cruel to them all, but Clemens was stuck in the peculiar predicament of being almost heartless whilst the world fell around him and his family. It seems everyone here had their own way of viewing the world that was warped by their upbringing. Rudolph viewed the world on high guard, Claude viewed the world through anger and distrust, and Percy viewed the world through bloody rose-tinted glasses. Clemens didn't have that. He was emotionless. The facts were all that he looked at, or at least that’s how he used to be. Now the facts are saying something he has never considered before. He is not emotionless, but quite the opposite. All it took was a different perspective.

A final brush stroke to the canvas, and it was done. Another painting to add to the collection. Clemens decided to visit some old patterns. He had been so infatuated with painting you to look like all these different emotions that he forgot his classic style was embedded in not feeling anything at all. And, there you were. He looked at his piece of art, slick paint glistened in the candlelight. Your face was painted blank as a fresh sheet of paper, and cold as a stone. It was beautiful.

‘If only you were here…’

That thought kept ringing through Clemens’ mind. Countless sketches of your face were littered across his desk and some even drifted to the floor in his obsessive artistic haze, but nothing would ever compare to the masterpiece that would be you seated in his chair, face crushed with despair while he painted you in real-time, keeping those sights of your sweet misery all for himself. Clemens placed his brush down on the easel and took to his desk to start brainstorming the plan to get you in his clutches for good. You’re already halfway there. Your mind is swamped with his face and your heart races in fearful anticipation with each room you enter. By all means, you’re his psychologically, but now it's time to make that physically as well. He’ll have to think about this especially carefully.

~Your POV~

It was hard going about life like nothing was wrong. People had been getting increasingly worried about your outbursts and sudden panic attacks out of nowhere. It got to the point where you would go completely silent with a thousand-yard stare, shallowly breathing as if you'd seen a ghost. Any conversation you were trying to hold would be sidelined by you glancing around with unease and choking on your words when you saw something out of the corner of your eye. Of course, it was all the same vision. Red coat, brown hair, amber eyes. Some of the wardens stopped talking to you all together. You remember their words before they left you for good…

“Darling, until you figure out what’s wrong I’m afraid I can’t do anything for you” Maximilian.

“You’re being hysterical…more so than usual. Figure it out…then we can talk” Richard.

“I can assure you, I am not the source of your visions. I would never use that on you, my dear. Unfortunately, I have work to attend to. Perhaps we’ll talk another time” William.

One by one, your friends started to avoid you. It was hell all over again. It seemed the only person who still stood by you was Bernard. Never once did he leave your side. If you were staring into space, he would bring you back and take you somewhere else. If you felt unsafe, he walked you back to your room. And if you wanted someone around, he would be right there, no questions asked. His big heart was one of the only reasons you weren't destroyed at this point.

~Present Tense~

You are seated on your bed with Bernard on the adjacent chair, trying to explain your visions in a way that doesn't make you seem utterly psychotic. Your eyes are knitted tight with anxiety and unease, your mind feeling like a whirlwind of fire.

“I can’t stop them. I see someone in the corner of my eye wherever I go”

Bernard looks puzzled and a little apologetic,

“I see this is affecting you deeply. Are you sure William is not using his hallucinations on you? He may be doing so by accident”

You shook your head. Oh, if only it were that simple. This whole debacle would’ve been long over by now.

“No. I’ve asked him”

You both sat in uncomfortable silence for a few moments. By now, Clemens had been in the back of your mind and the corner of your eye for over three weeks. Only one conversation was held between you two, but you’ve seen him more times this week than any other person in the manor this month. It's ridiculous. Why this? Why now? Just…why?

“I am at a loss, I’m afraid…But, whatever you need from me, do not hesitate to ask. I am here to help you, always”

This is the umpteenth time Bernard has said that to you. It made your heart feel full in the past, but it rings mostly hollow now.

“Thank you..” You say with less and less hope each time you utter that phrase

Bernard senses this change in attitude and his face falls to a frown. It hurts him to see his friend hurt so much by something he can’t help. He places a hand on your shoulder, one of the last comforting touches you truly accept. Touch from anyone else makes you wince or jump all because of the creeping thought of the touch coming from Clemens. The large amount of distance between the two of you was the only saving grace these hallucinations gave you.

“I have duties to attend to, unfortunately. I’ll be here to check on you this evening if you would like to meet here”

You nod, your face looking more like a slate than a person,

“Yes please”

“As you wish” He nods back.

He starts to make his way to the door. Bernard turns his head to you, a note of forced positivity evident in his expression.

“Please take care of yourself, my dear”

You sure as hell would try, but there is no guarantee that it will work. You give a very soft and shaky smile paired with a little thumbs up. Bernard returns your smile and just like that, he's gone. You are left alone in your quarters, something that became far more frequent in the past week. Outside, Bernard walks down the opulent hallway, eyes cast downward as he worries over his human friend.

“Bernard” A voice calls to the tall warden.

Bernard looks up to see one of his fellow men.

“Clemens! Good to see you once again. How can I help you?

Clemens has not come for the conversation. He never does. It is a rare occurrence that the silent warden would ask anyone for anything, but today is a special occasion.

“I have been hearing around the manor recently that (Y/N) is unwell,” Clemens’ said in a flat tone, as usual.

Bernard keeps himself as kind as ever as he responds to your undetected stalker.

“Yes, they have been feeling uneasy for a while now. We do not know how or why this has suddenly happened to them”

Clemens nods silently, but inside he's taking a twisted interest and joy from it all. It's simply incredible how your emotions affect everyone in the manor. Like a spider web, everyone was caught up in the wonderful entanglement of your positivity. Once things become shaky and the web starts to break, people begin to fall off one by one. It's a delightful sight to behold, and even more, a delightful confirmation of your slipping sanity given to him by the most gullible person in the manor.

“Odd..” Clemens feigns innocence.

“Very odd indeed” Bernard chimes in.

Only a handful of seconds pass before the red-dressed warden clears his throat, ready to get to the point of this conversation.

“Where are they now?” Clemens asks,

Bernard looks back, the door to your room just a short distance away. He eyes it with concern,

“They are in their quarters, and it seems they have no intention of leaving them any time soon. I have made arrangements to meet with them later this evening. I am hoping I can provide them with some type of comfort”

Bernard is saddened by the reality that his human friend is in so much distress, but Clemens has to hold in his smile at the knowledge that he single-handedly turned the most optimistic bundle of sunshine into a frightened recluse. Emotional manipulation is so much more fun when you can also emotionally reap the benefits. This rush is powerful, unlike anything he has felt before.

Clemens knew better than to just go up and knock on your door. That might be the stupidest thing he could do in the position he has secured himself in. No, this psychological game isn’t over yet. You can be pushed a tad further, and he knows you can. You might not believe it, but there is always deeper to fall than you'd expect, and he’s all too ready to keep pushing further and further until you’re at your breaking point.

“I see…” Clemens said curtly.

He keeps his true thoughts to himself with a skilled poker face. No need to indulge in small talk when it will only serve to make him look suspicious. Cold and calculating is his brand, and he will stick to it like glue until the time is just right. He starts to walk off, not even bothering to bid Bernard goodbye, but that type of behaviour is not unusual for him. Bernard sputters out a quick farewell, but it doesn't even register in the ears of the obsessed man.

Clemens has been taking note of more than just your face. He has been observing you in full, and that includes keeping tabs on your schedule. Over the last week and a half, he has noticed the strange behaviour of you exiting and subsequently returning to your room just a short while later. You waffle back and forth as if you didn’t know where to go, but you knew you had to be somewhere. He concluded that it was a response to you feeling constantly uneasy. You desperately tried to find comfort in locations that are now tainted by his face. Even your room no longer feels safe, and that gives him the perfect way to make a power move that would tip the balance of this game in his favour. Bernard stupidly revealed part of your schedule he could take advantage of. How easy would it be to forge a letter from your best friend, telling you to meet them somewhere at whatever time is most convenient for him? God, it’s so easy it’s almost not fun anymore. Clemens walks to his room, footsteps keeping a brisk pace making his heavy cloak flow behind him. He’s got a letter to write.

~Later That Night, Your POV~

Bless Bernard for showing up. You skipped dinner, so he brought you up a full plate. You couldn’t finish all of it though, not when you’re nauseous all the time. His company is welcome, but not exactly impactful. He did everything he could to make you feel better, and you knew that. Sadly, his best only does a mediocre job, but it’s not like anyone else can do any better.

“I’m sorry, but I can’t help but think of that vision. It’s all I can focus on. I can’t stand it anymore” You sigh, and Bernard cringes with worry and sympathy at your apology.

“Do not apologize, please. I only wish for there to be an explanation for all this”

You wish for an explanation too. At this point, after all the anxiety, you are sick of telling half the truth. It doesn't matter how delusional you sound, you already sound insane so you might as well be transparent with him. Bernard’s your best friend. He wouldn’t dismiss you, right?

“I’ve noticed something about the visions...”

Bernard’s ears perk up and he waits for your description of these elusive sightings,

“They look like Clemens”

Immediately, a mixture of surprise and confusion morphs into the tall warden’s expression.

“Clemens? Why on earth would you see him?”

You take a short breath,

“A few weeks ago we had a small chat. I don’t know what went wrong, but he seemed upset once it was over. He’s made no attempt to talk to me since, but these visions only started after we finished talking. I just don’t understand why that conversation would affect me so much”

Bernard’s expression became purely puzzled. It's very strange indeed. You both have no idea just how strange the situation, as well as the man in question, has truly gotten.

“I will talk to him and see if he has been seeing you more often too. I doubt he would actively seek you out, so there is a chance that these visions are just you catching a small glimpse as he passes by”

That’s not true in the slightest. That wouldn’t explain the library incident where you caught him staring at you, and the most terrifying part of it is, that he could've been there for about an hour. Moreover, what of the many times people just barely missed him while you saw him from the corner of your eye? It had to be methodically planned for it to be so perfectly timed over and over again.

“I'm not sure… I know Clemens doesn't like to speak to anyone, but don't you think that explanation is a bit too convenient? I’ve seen this vision several times a day for weeks now. What are the odds he is always passing by at those exact moments?”

A very reasonable concern, but unfortunately Bernard’s kindness stretches out to those who don't deserve it.

“Clemens is not one to reach out to people. I have known him a long time, and I can tell you with certainty that he would not try to follow you so adamantly. I will talk to him and clear up this misunderstanding. You don’t have to worry about a thing, my dear”

Bernard starts to smile. Finally, there’s some hope to resolve this, but it’s truly a shame that nothing involving Clemens has a happy ending. Your heart is pained by the fact your best friend didn’t believe your concerns. A while later it is time for him to leave. You don't have much hope for that conversation, but you're willing to take a chance on it. You bid your friend farewell, and he is off on his way. You close the door, going back to your solitude.

…

’So, you want to speak with me..? Clear this up? Very well, let’s clear this up. I’ll make it very clear that you shouldn’t get in my way’

~Third Person POV~

Bernard walks around, determined yet clueless on how to find Clemens. Thankfully for him, he wouldn’t have to walk much farther. Clemens took no risks with your meeting with Bernard. He eavesdropped on your whole conversation, and while he was happy that he had managed to weasel his way into your head so much, he couldn't say he was happy with Bernard. The big oaf has no clue who he is messing with. If there’s one thing Clemens has other than his knowledge, it’s conviction. The German took no shit when it came to what he took seriously, and you are a very serious matter. The one thing that could keep you from being completely and utterly his is Bernard. With how close of friends you two are, it’s as if the two of you are welded together, even more so now that you’re losing your sanity. Bernard is your last pillar of stability, and he was determined to knock it over. He might even feel some joy watching your last bridge be burned to ashes.

Bernard’s eyes scan the area in front of the basement entrance, where they keep all the prisoners. He never liked this place. Far too much negativity for him. The door is wide open, revealing the dark descent down the stairway into the endless hallways of prison cells.

“Bernard.”

The warden dressed in brown turned around to come face to face with the very man he wanted to see.

“Clemens, there you are! I have been searching for you”

Clemens felt another emotion creeping its way into his heart. While he had been indulging himself in the multitude of emotions you bring, he started to feel the first emotion you brought upon him; anger. Bernard was the final obstacle he needed to be rid of. This is the man who has the best chance of sabotaging the happiness he desires so desperately, and may he be damned once again if he ever lets that happen.

“Have you now?” Clemens speaks, a twinge of passive-aggressive sarcasm poking through his words. Bernard is so dense he doesn’t even notice it.

“Yes, it’s about (Y/N). They have been seeing things recently and that has been the cause of their unease, and they say the visions they experience look like you. I know it sounds silly, but they are my best friend, and all I want is for them to be happy. I wanted to ask you if you have been seeing them more often as well. Perhaps you two have been crossing paths unexpectedly and this is all a mere misunderstanding”

It was very hard not to laugh out loud at that statement. Bernard had never been the brightest flame on the candelabra, and this just solidifies that belief into a fact.

“Yes yes, happiness. What more could a man want?”

This was a tone unheard of by Clemens. He never jokes, not even if the joke is cruel. Bernard’s eyes squint with sudden shock and confusion. What’s going on with his fellow man?

“Yes…we all care a great deal for (Y/N), and I know you two have not gotten along in the past, but don’t you wish to help them in their stressful time? I’m sure they would greatly appreciate it”

Clemens rolls his eyes. Good lord, he doesn’t know how much of Bernard’s ‘positivity’ he could take. It’s nothing like yours. Bernard’s positivity comes from a place of shallow guilt. He wants to repent for his past by hastily placing others first. Clemens knew about the heavyweight Bernard carries on his shoulders, I mean, the man doesn’t exactly make it a secret. Meanwhile, your positivity is birthed from wisdom and patience. An ideology that harmonises the mind and soul.

Clemens begins to walk towards Bernard, each step is slow and methodical. His face was blank as usual, but his aura is far darker. Anyone could tell this wasn’t Clemens’ usual disposition. Bernard’s stance becomes less open, shrinking back a little. He senses the strange change as Clemens gets closer.

“Yes, they would love it if this was all a misunderstanding. No, I’m not interested in helping. Not the way you want me to”

Clemens kept approaching, and it was clear this was not going to be a friendly chat. Bernard begins to take some steps back, keeping his eyes on Clemens as the two are locked in some sort of standoff. Neither of them ceases their movements and the more Bernard backs up, the only way left to go is down. His hand grips the railing and he carefully starts to descend the staircase, looking up towards Clemens all the while. Clemens follows and closes the door behind him, cutting them off from the outside world. No light except the candles burning away at the wax they are embedded into illuminating the stairwell. The angle and lighting serve to highlight the hostile energy radiating off of Clemens. The orange glow that emanates from the candles elevates the fire in the German’s eyes.

“Clemens!?” Bernard’s voice is full of concern but is promptly ignored.

“I can see why you two are so close. You both have the same blind faith in life. Look where blind faith got you. This is why you cannot trust your ‘fellow men’. How many times do you need to be disciplined before you understand your kindness doesn’t make a difference?”

Clemens grabs one of the torches off the wall and tosses the hot ball of fire down toward the tall man. Bernard wastes no time trying to swat the cluster of heat away but is sadly met with a fresh burn to his face. The torch lands in front of his feet, catching his long heavy cape with a flame that proceeds to grow larger each second. Clemens watches with a straight face as his ‘colleague’ is almost set ablaze by his hands. Bernard manages to tear the heavy garment off his shoulders in time for the flames to not reach his spine formation. He watches as his clothes are now a burning pile of fabric on the cold cobblestone floor. His peer just tried to kill him.

All the while, Clemens inches closer and closer down the stairs. Bernard looks around for anything. He eventually lands on a long spare plank of wood that lays against the wall with some other scraps from the dungeon. He brandishes it with a grip less than confident. He takes several steps back, trying to gain distance, but Clemens' pursuit simply continues once he reaches the bottom of the stairs. The red-clad warden took long strides and reached down towards his waist. The large red cloak that covered his sides is pushed aside to reveal the sheath of his sword. His hand grips the hilt and the sound of his clean blade slipping out of its covering shakes Bernard to the core. Clemens takes a swing and the blade cuts into the wood that is held up in front of Bernard’s face. The poor, kind, and frightened warden’s heart pulsates harder than it ever has in this manor. Another hit of the short sword slices into the middle of the wood, and one last side swing made it so the wood was cut in half. Clemens swings his sword upwards into the bottom of the feeble wood, successfully startling Bernard enough to get him to relinquish his grip on the plank. The blade comes scarily close to Bernard’s chest, and he watches Clemens toss the piece of wood past him, leaving him defenceless. The sound of the wood hitting the cell door behind him echoes through the chambers. Before Bernard could do anything to reason with the stoic German, the cold blade of his short sword was placed to his throat.

“Even now, I can't say I feel any remorse” Clemens states dryly,

Clemens’ insane stare leers down into Bernard’s soul, the tall man’s brown eyes filled with shocked distress. One man is filled with apathy while the other is filled with horror.

“I don't understand. Why are you doing this!?”

The sharp metal pressed harder against Bernard’s neck, causing him to wince.

“Because I want to. No matter how unreasonable it may be”

It became silent for a moment minus the sounds of the prisoners' moans and cries of anguish echoing faintly through the cold damp corridors. Clemens inspects the emotion on his foe’s face. A grimace, tightly knit eyebrows, and trembling lips that fail to conceal his terror. Perfect. Fear is exactly what should be felt. Clemens begins to speak again, his tone as cold as the dungeon itself.

“(Y/N) is far more knowledgeable than I gave them credit for. I thought I had it all figured out, but I was wrong. They showed me the truth, and it was disgusting. I first admired their wisdom, but now I simply admire every part of them. You understand, yes? You are their friend after all”

Bernard’s mind is a whirlwind of questions, not all of which will be answered by the time Clemens is done with him. The distant sounds of prisoners wailing for freedom added to the tall warden’s unease.

“What ‘truth’..? None of this makes sense!”

Clemens sighs. Of course, Bernard wouldn't understand, and why would he expect him to? He leans down towards the man who is shakily kneeling before him, face becoming harsh and scolding,

“Do you have a brain in that large head of yours, or is it all empty space?”

Bernard’s eyes shot wide open. He had never heard Clemens speak in such a way. Truly, his friend is almost a completely different man now.

“That ‘talk’ we had was more than a simple conversation, it was an epiphany. Never once had I doubted my intelligence. If I am one thing, it is logical. I trust everyone here knows that very well. That, however, was false. I was as blind as the next damned man. The whole time, I had been driven by the denial, fear, and anger of my emotions. I thought I was better than what my heart told me, that I had cut it out of me long ago, but I have been listening to it every day.”

Clemens grip on his short sword tightens little by little as he recounts the way you destroyed him. Slowly, his knuckles turn white with the burning hatred he feels towards your kind wisdom, but the deep respect and love he has for your intelligence in an area previously thought to be useless by him.

“I have humanity, and I hate that. I hate that they made me look at myself for what I truly am. A petty, emotional human. They made me the most miserable man here, but now I have found a way to be happy…and that is to ruin them.”

Clemens’ arm thrust out and grappled into Bernard's undershirt, pulling the frightened man towards him with much force. His short sword is tossed off behind his cloak. Bernard’s trembling hands could only hold on to the German’s arm for stability, too blinded by his steadfast kinship towards his fellow men to try and tear himself away.

Clemens is still his friend, right? A friend that never talked to him, never showed up, liked him, or even tolerated him…oh.

Clemens decides he hasn't had enough. No, He has to cut Bernard even deeper, but not with his sword, no. With something even worse. With a tone too cold for Bernard’s liking, Clemens leans forward and utters in a manner too chilling for even this dungeon,

“Would you like to know something? They have been telling the truth. I have been watching them, following them every day, and you didn’t believe them”

At that moment, Bernard felt like his heart had been stabbed. He didn't believe his best friend because he wanted to assume the best in his peers. All you asked for was some faith in your experiences, and he couldn't even give you that. Maybe if he believed you, he wouldn't be in this mess.

“Do you still wish to call yourself their friend after you failed to help them?”

Bernard’s eyes became downcast. Clemens is right, isn’t he? What kind of friend doesn't support their loved ones?

“I-...” Bernard couldn't find the words, but maybe there were none to say anyway.

Clemens felt satisfied when nothing else came out of the large man’s mouth. With the extra strength granted by the determination to secure you for himself, he tightens his grip on Bernard’s white undershirt and hoists him up until his knees are not touching the ground anymore.

“I almost feel sorry for you. No brains and no sympathy”

Clemens had premeditated the place where he met Bernard. The dungeon was perfect. He has Bernard backed into the hallway with the first prison cell. The cell door isn't closed, and the space is enough for him to slip his hand in, open it, and shove Bernard inside. And that's exactly what he did. In one quick movement, the iron door was pulled back. The heavily rusty hinges groaning from the speed at which the door was forced open, and Bernard was thrown backward inside. It took a lot of strength, but when you're as fiercely determined as Clemens and as shocked as Bernard, it becomes possible. Bernard lands against the cold stone with a thud and hasn’t the speed to pick himself up before the iron door is slammed shut. The last words Clemens hears is his fellow man pleading for mercy.

“Clemens, no- WAIT!”

Some banging on the door ensued, but it didn't matter. Those doors are impenetrable. Bernard wouldn't die, at least he won’t if someone finds him in time. Either way, Clemens now has some time to figure out how to deal with Bernard if he manages to get out. It will be a while yet until someone has a shift in the dungeon. Clemens walked off, ignoring the banging and pleas for escape from his imprisoned peer. He ascends the stairs and shuts the dungeon door, leaving no sunlight to reach into the cold dark space. He takes a deep breath. That took long enough. His hand reaches into his pocket, feeling the folded letter he forged. Clemens had long since finished that note, and it was convincing enough. Bernard’s writing was easy to replicate; highly emotional with bad printing. It was harder to fake the shoddy handwriting than it was to actually forge the contents of the letter. Now all that’s left is to drop it off. He silently wades through the halls, making his way to your door. He’d known which room was yours by now. Funny how weeks of stalking will reveal that info. Making sure that no one is around to see, he slips the tip of the letter beneath your door and goes on his way. Time to wait.

~Your POV~

Meanwhile, you are trying to get ready for bed. You turn around to walk to your desk when you notice something by the foot of your door. You go over and pick it up. It reads;

‘Dear (Y/N). I understand you are still feeling unwell and I want to help you as much as I can. You know I care deeply for you and hate seeing you hurt. I would like to invite you to the Gold Wing common room tomorrow at four o’clock in the morning. I understand this hour is quite early, but I felt it would provide you with some ease knowing it would be only the two of us awake. I can bring tea as well. Have a good night.’

Bernard

Looks like you should go to sleep earlier than you normally do, but after hours of tossing, turning, and laying on your bed, you couldn’t sleep. You just wanted to be with your friend. It isn't necessarily Clemens that made you so unstable, it was the fact that no one believes you when you see him. You've heard the ‘gaslighting’ jokes back in your old life in the modern world, but god, actually experiencing it makes it so it’s really not funny anymore. You’ve done every psychological trick in the book. Brushing it off, going to other places, being with other people, and taking time for yourself. Nothing changed. In fact, it got worse. It’s gotten to the point where you think you see him in places that are simply impossible. Through the window of your room was the worst one. Your quarters are so high up in the mansion that it would be impossible for anyone to get that high, let alone keep themselves pulled up enough to peer into your room, but facts didn’t matter anymore. Nothing has made sense since the fateful day you talked with the red-clad warden. Deep down you believe these visions are a product of hyper-paranoia, but paranoia has the silly little effect of embedding itself into the very fabric of your reality.

The letter is sweet but strange. The nice part is that it will be just you and your best friend, and that support was one you simply could not afford to lose. You were so desperate from anyone safe to be around that even requesting to meet at strange hours in the morning just seemed like him trying to be considerate of your predicament. You will do anything to restore normalcy, and if becoming an early bird is the way to do that then so be it. Normally, you’d be terrified of this place at such an hour, but it couldn’t be any more terrifying than it is during the day. Some candles are lit, signifying the beginning of a new day. Luckily for you, Matthew’s intrinsic connection to the manor acts as some form of a clock. The halls are much dimmer than usual, but it’s just bright enough to make your way to your destination. These are ungodly hours to be awake. The sound of your footsteps is quiet, barely audible as you walk faster than average in hopes of clearing your buzzing mind.

Simultaneously, it is time for a certain someone to finally confront you. Truth be told, Clemens was worried about a confrontation. It is imperative you reach a certain level of brokenness before he shows his face in full to you. By now, all the times he let you spot him from the corner of your vision before vanishing in the blink of an eye will have taken enough toll on your psyche. Even better, the constant doubt you receive from everyone else pushes you further to the brink. Your friends help to break you without even noticing.

Yes, you may be trapped in here with all of them, but you have not had the same traumatic experiences as them, and a fresh mind is a fragile mind. It is much easier to get under your skin than the average inhabitant of the manor, and like always, he is correct. You are sufficiently cracked in the ways of mental stability. The cold static environment of the manor only served to add to this spiral of insanity. Sighting after sighting, hallway after hallway, day after day that stretched out for who knows how long…it all blended together. Perfect to get you to crumble even faster. There’s only one move left to play before this little game of psychological chess is over. Checkmate.

Clemens staked out near your room that night. It wasn't too difficult. Even if someone passed by in the hallway, with enough apathy you can make anything look passable. He knew it was a matter of time until you came out, and sure enough, he heard exactly what he was searching for. The sound of creaking door hinges broke the silence through the dark hallway. There you are, looking both ways before starting your little panic parade down the hall, and finally, no Bernard to get in his way. He swiftly follows, ensuring his footsteps are kept in time with yours to not give away his position. You walked with urgency, your hair flowed in the small breeze you made for yourself. Your hands are held to your chest, and if they aren't, they are tangled in your hair, almost as if you were trying to forcefully pull the thoughts of fear and paranoia directly from your head. It was simply precious. How he wishes to be behind you, hands laced in your hair, watching you twitch and squirm as he takes your place in trying to pull those thoughts out, loving your despair as you both come up unsuccessful. Unfortunately, it’s too late for either of you to get rid of each other. You’ve cemented yourselves equally in the other’s mind, and there's certainly no going back to the way things were and Clemens is all too happy to welcome this exhilarating change. A new miserable expression for him to heed every day. Do not be mistaken, it’s not just your face he admires. It’s your mind, your words, your impact, your ideologies. You’re the antithesis to his worldview, and he wished for nothing more than to control you, the source of everyone's hope, directly in the palm of his hand and make you a pawn for his contentment.

You stop pacing to take a short breather in an open foyer. The room is cold, but the chills of anxiety are colder than that of the air. Your breathing is heavier than it normally would be. You simply couldn't understand. Why could nobody see what was happening? Are you truly starting to lose it in here? Why did this only start happening after one conversation? You’ve only seen his full face twice since that day, and you felt more awful each time you caught a glimpse of that cursed visage of him. You are starting to think that it really is all in your head until you hear something. A misaligned footstep. You're not alone. You immediately turn around only to be met with a face most horrifying.

“(Y/N).”

Clemens spoke in his usual tone of voice. He wore his usual expression too, unreadable. After all this time, Clemens, in the flesh. Time stopped for a moment right then and there. Your heart drops with all the speed of a meteor hurtling toward Earth, and your breath hitches so sharply one could have mistaken you were choking on something. All drops of blood in your body froze as you finally see him in full for the first time who knows how long. Countless times you’ve seen merely a sliver of his face, but now you get to witness it in full, and it could not be more terrifying. Despite your horror, a smile creeps up on your face. He’s here, and he's real. You knew it was real.

“You’re here…”

Your smile grows along with the tears that are forming along the bottom of your eyes.

“Haha. I knew it..! It was real! Haha— I was right! I knew you were real!”

You are stuck in a terrifying mixture of terrified and overjoyed. ‘I’m not insane!’, you celebrate to yourself, but that's not exactly the case. Yes, it was real, but you’re also not the same person you were when this once started. Your mind has been scarred by the haunting image of his face and looming presence. Each tiny glimpse you caught of him was like a puzzle piece and now you’ve collected every piece - every detail - of his completion. Now you get to see the final image. It’s an image that never in a hundred years would you wish upon yourself, but here you are, rejoicing in your worst nightmare. To your surprise, Clemens barely smiles along with you. He walks closer, but you haven’t the ability to move away. You’re stuck like a deer in headlights.

“Yes, I am real”

He says with an unidentifiable tone. Each step he takes is another concrete confirmation he is in front of you, talking to you, looking at you.

“You were right from the beginning. It wasn’t the rose painting you saw, it was me.”

The red rose painting Bernard convinced you you saw, was just him.

“I was in the library as well, watching you read your book...”

You remember like it was yesterday, screaming bloody murder when you looked up and saw his eye staring at your figure.

“I was so close to being found. A shame Henry wasn't fast enough. Maybe then people would’ve believed you.”

He’s mocking you, but oddly his face shows no signs of superiority. He wears the same type of face he always does; nothing. You struggle to get the air unclogged from your throat. Your brain is a foggy mixture of outrage, relief, bafflement, and terror. The urge to run away is strong, but your need for answers is far stronger. He’s finally here after so long, and you need to know what the point of it is.

“Why?” You ask quietly, voice nothing above a pathetic whisper

He walks closer, now directly in front of you. His face is dimmed by the small light of the candles, shadows covering the majority of his face. He reached out, and you shut your eyes tight. Unexpectedly, you get pulled closer to him. He embraces you, keeping you nice and flush against his body.

“Because I hate you” He states plainly.

Despite his statement, he holds you tighter, cradling you with a gentle yet terrifyingly firm grip. It’s like he’s hugging you. A very controlling and possessive hug. The insanity Clemens had been driving himself into over the past month has built up immensely. He couldn’t let anyone else know about this newfound love of emotion, nor could he let word get out about his obsession. He knew his actions were irrational, but now that he knows the truth about what it means to be human and what it means to be him, irrationality is always at the core of decisions. What else can we do except for what our flawed brains tell us?

“You tore away everything I thought I knew about myself, and to make it more insulting, you did it with that forgiving smile on your face. I thought I lived above it all. I never let my emotions dictate my actions. I only did what was logical, but you showed me I was blindsided from the very beginning. I am a human filled with as much emotion as the next idiotic sinner. It’s just as you said. Discarding humanity was never the answer. The answer is to embrace it…”

The words you spoke to him did this. All you wanted to do was help. Sharing your compassion has always brought good into the world. It was your greatest strength. How could your idea of happiness be twisted and warped into something so horrible?

“And my emotions tell me I want to ruin you as much as you ruined me. I can promise you that nothing will bring me more joy in this life than knowing you are as broken as me”

You couldn’t speak. Nothing you could say would make any sense. Joy is sorrow, and hatred is cruel love. What could you possibly say? Clemens doesn’t push you for a response. It seems he’s content to simply stand here in silence with you in his arms. He’s waited long enough for this moment, and he’ll savor it whether you have words to say or not. You hear him take in a content breath, slow and easy.

“You may not know, but I am an artist,” He says gently. His thumb tenderly grazes over your spine, creating a frigid shiver that runs through your back down to the soles of your feet.

“I’ve been imagining things, something I do not usually do. I’ve been imagining you in my room, seated before me. A blank canvas on my easel and brush in hand, painting you for hours”

The mental image alone is enough to make you feel utterly sick. You try your hardest to force your brain not to think of it, which is far easier said than done.

“I find your sorrow captivating, (Y/N). I can’t deny the amount of happiness I feel knowing you are miserable. I love you, and I hate that. Even now, I wonder if I should hold you, or rip your throat out”

Every bit of fight in your body has been sucked out. All that’s left is to be frozen in time. He’s smarter, faster, and stronger than you'll ever be. What hope do you have of escaping? What on earth does he want from you now? It seems no actions you can take will fully please him. In the end, he hates you. He said it himself.

“T-Then what do you want me to do?” You asked, your voice fractured as smashed glass.

He thinks for a moment, the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest clashing with your staggered shallow huffs.

“Stay. I’ve finally found my happiness, and it’s you.” Clemens softly explains, “You’ll stay even though I hate you, ja?”

You nod your head. It’s better to stay in line than to try and push him away in such a dangerous state. Clemens unveils the smallest of smiles. Of course, your agreement does not come from any willingness, but he’s so happy you're complacent. Truly, you feel hopeless to escape him.

“Wonderful. You will come back to my quarters with me, and I will show you where you will sit when I paint your portrait. You can see what I have been working on as well”

While his voice is calm and collected, Clemens feels his heart quicken. The rush of vitality caused his grip on you to get momentarily tighter. It was certainly noticeable too as you tense from the more firm touch.

“This is ‘excitement’. It is nice…”

“...”

“Ich liebe dich…”

He escorted you to your room with newfound satisfaction. It is cosmically ironic how the two of you swapped emotions. While Clemens has now found the answer to fill the empty void in his heart, you feel empty and caged. Your mind and face are wholly empty while there is a new spark of life within his eyes. You couldn't feel your legs as they shakily carried you along in his path. Clemens keeps a brisk pace, and the air feels extra cold this early in the morning. It felt like either two seconds or an eternity before he stopped. You’re at his quarters. He opens the door and what's inside makes your stomach churn like the pits of hell.

Countless paintings hung up on his walls, all of your face. Drawings and sketches of your image strewn across the floor. He had turned his room into an obsessive sanctuary dedicated to you.

“Oh my god…” You gag on your words as they feel ripped straight from your throat. Your face is pale as a ghost and your body feels numb. You have never felt worse in your whole life.

Clemens didn’t say anything in response to your horror, instead, he gently took hold of your cheek, wiping away a small tear you didn’t even know fell from your eye.

“You’re even more beautiful up close”

You’re petrified to the point you don’t even feel the small kiss he places on your cheek where your tear leaves a streak of dampness, and that is exactly the way he likes it.

~Time Skip~

You sat there, motionless in the grand velvet chair he had in his room. You stare at nothing in particular. You’d seen every painting in his room by now. There was nothing left to look at.

“Augen bitte hier…”

You’ve learned by now that if he speaks as he's painting you, he wants you to fix your posture and look at him. You’ve made the mistake of refusing, and it’s safe to say you’ll never make it again. You fixed your line sight towards him once more, straightening out your shoulders and lifting your chin higher. Despite his vacant visage, he seemed pleased,

“Perfekt”

His voice was smooth and dark as he focused intently on his brush strokes. You sat there, motionless and expressionless for a few more minutes until he placed his brush down, and walked towards you. You showed no signs of fear, disgust, or anger as he neared you. He stood in front of you, bringing his hand up and brushing it through your hair. He mumbled something about you looking beautiful, but you had heard it all before.

Ever since Clemens had gotten you in his grasp, he had been more vocal about his feelings. He’s far more open to expressing how beautiful he thinks you are, how much he despises you, and how happy he is that you’re dispirited. Most of your days are spent at his side now. He doesn’t seem keen to let you out of his eyesight, especially when there are other people around. When people see you with Clemens, they don’t seem willing to converse to you. You just accepted the reality that no one wants to talk to you anymore because they hate you now that you’ve changed, but the truth was Clemens had taken advantage of your strange behavior to weave a story about you losing your mind. No more did they have the sweet bundle of sunshine they loved, and he furthered his lie by saying you didn’t want to speak to any of them out of paranoia and doubt. Emotional manipulation had become his ultimate weapon, and it was terrifying how well he wielded it against you and everyone you loved.

Who you love…

You wondered where Benard was. Nobody has seen him for a while, and you haven't heard anything about his whereabouts. You hope he’s okay.

“Don’t let your head fall as I am painting you, okay? I need to see you clearly”

His hand went to your chin, stealing your gaze and tilting your head upwards. You swallowed dryly as you looked into his eyes. Those eyes never held anything good in them. You nodded weakly, agreeing to his words.

“Yes..”

He leaned closer, shifting his grip to bring your head to the crook of his neck. The smell of paint and old books evident on his clothes.

“Gut. Dat ist besser”

Your life as a caged muse was just as empty as you are, and he couldn't be more happy for your sorrow.

—END—

#blackmoonowl #yandere #not my oc #Hora Aurea #Clemens Averink #horror #wardens

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sirenat-t · 1 year ago

Text

I’m Happy For Your Sorrow (Yandere Clemens x Reader Part 2)

Clemens Averink and all other characters mentioned in this fic belong to @blackmoonowl . Thank you Owl for letting us use your characters in our own works!

This fic was inspired by a convo I had with the Clemens ai and the old hcs of Clemens/Collin x optimistic reader written by Owl.

Slight psychological horror warning: Involves depictions of stalking and obsession. You have been warned

Enjoy!

—————————————————————————

That night the manor was quiet. Not a sound could be heard in the halls. Matthew had since snuffed all the candles with his ability to control the manor, so all the hallways were pitch dark. Only one room remained lit, and that was Clemens’ room. He stood at his easel, an array of dark coloured paints on his palette. He figured he would calm down after today the way he always calmed down after a bad day. Painting. It was his haven from the hell he was trapped in. Most of his paintings consisted of anger, torture, or fear, but tonight was different.

He fully expected for tonight to be the same old routine. Paint something gruesome to vent and then go to bed feeling mute. Without much thinking, he began to place some paint strokes on the canvas. It started out normal. He painted the outline of a face. Who is going to be miserable this time? That’s usually the game Clemens played with these types of paintings. Sometimes he painted Claude, scars doused in bright red to announce how tortured he was without reason. Sometimes he painted Erhard with a blank stare but with an expression that faltered, a display of guilt and regret this elder brother had for not being enough to protect his siblings. Tonight, however, would be different. Clemens found himself using brighter colours than he normally does, but it’s necessary for the painting he was making. He absent-mindedly painted the rest of the face, then he painted the eyes, then the hair, and then…a smile.

‘What?’ Clemens thought to himself

He didn’t stop though, he allowed his hand to continue its work until he saw the finished product. It was you. Your smiling face. He looked long and hard at it. At first he felt a strange sense of peace. Your smile…he knows why everyone loves it. Slowly but surely he felt his heart speed up. At first, it felt good. Like, a rush of life has entered his system seeing you so joyful and carefree. You looked like an angel. But soon, that burning feeling from earlier came back. Your smile…he can’t stand it. He did his best to keep his anger in check, but your voice kept coming back to him…

“I don’t let it define me”, you said to him. You don’t let your emotions define you. Really? You don’t let your anger take hold of you? Don’t let your sadness overwhelm you? You don’t let your feelings ruin you?!

Collin’s mind fogged up with the same indescribable thoughts and emotions. Care, anger, hope, disgust, resentment, envy and more. He couldn’t stand it. He dipped his paint brush harshly into his black paint and quickly chucked the thick liquid directly at the centre of the painting. A harsh wet splat could be heard as the easel tipped backwards from the impact. The painting falls to the floor. Your once smiling face as been covered in darkness. Clemens placed his art supplies down and walked over to the painting. He picked it up and surprisingly, he felt another jolt in his system.

‘…!’

He studied the now ruined painting, but he thought it wasn’t ruined at all. In fact, he thought it was magnificent. Looking at your face now covered in something other than a sweet smile caused him to feel some warped type of joy. You’re not happy anymore. You’re ruined, just like him. Oddly enough, Clemens had the urge to smile. He had an idea. He set up the easel again and got another canvas from his closet, placing the medium sized white square on the wooden stand. He began to paint again. He painted you, but you looked a little different this time. No more was your face bright and lively. You wore a look of sadness as your eyes leaked fresh tears. A couple hours later and the painting was done. Clemens looked at it in deep thought. You looked so miserable. You looked like the sun would never rise again.

‘You look beautiful’ He thought

With a twisted sense of pride, Clemens took the painting and placed it to dry on his desk. He displayed it like it was a trophy of some kind. There were his quills, there were his papers, there were his most prized sketches, and then there was you…crying so delightfully for the world to see. The other painting was also placed back on the easel to dry. Both of these paintings seemed to make Clemens incredibly happy. For the first time in forever, Clemens went to sleep with a smile.

~The Next Day~

It was another day in the Avarus manor, and you got ready like you always did. You put on the causal garments Maurits sewed up for you, and you made your way downstairs. You had gotten a good enough mental grip of this place to know where the kitchen and dining hall were, so you made your way over. Upon entering the kitchen, you saw Bernard cooking eggs on the iron stove top and he was slicing some fresh bread to go off on the side. With a smile you approached the very tall and very friendly warden.

“Good morning, Bernard!”

He looked over his shoulder and met your gaze with a gentle smile of his own

“Good morning, my dear. I hope you slept well”

With a happy nod, you exchanged morning pleasantries. However, he looked like he had a lot in his plate in terms of breakfast, (dad joke entirely intended) so you offered a hand.

“Would you like some help?” You asked and he nodded with appreciation.

“That would be wonderful, thank you darling”

You were handed the bread knife and you began to slice the bread yourself, plating it nicely for whoever was hungry to enjoy. You looked over and saw a bowl of countryside fruits like apples, pears, and plums. You walked over, grabbed a few of each fruits, and sliced them up to add on to breakfast. After a while the food was finished, so you and Bernard took it out to the dining hall. Some other people were there too such as William (who was half asleep with his coffee cup in hand), Emory, Henry, Richard, and Maurits. Luckily you are good enough terms with all of them to have breakfast without a complete war breaking out! Horray! After a nice breakfast with a couple extra cups of coffee for William, you decided to take a walk with Bernard around the manor.

“I’m so happy you have found something of a home here. I was terribly worried for you when you first arrived”

Typical Bernard. Always worried about you and always happy to see you doing well.

“I couldn’t have done it without you, Bernard. You were the first person to reach out and help me here”

It was a pleasant talk with your friend until you passed by an adjacent hallway and saw a splotch of red in your peripheral vision. You shifted your gaze to the side you caught a glimpse of Clemens. You remembered how upset he became yesterday at your talk and you felt bad for causing him so much distress. You turned your head to the side, facing the joined hallway. You closed your eyes and gave a big smile like you always did.

“Good morning, Clemens!”

“…”

No answer…

“Umm…I’m sorry my dear, but Clemens isn’t there”

Bernard spoke softly. You did a double take and just like Bernard said, the hall was empty

“But…I could’ve sworn I saw him”

Bernard placed a hand on your shoulder,

“Perhaps your eyes caught a glimpse of the red painting?”

Sure enough, a red rose painting was hung on the wall, but you could’ve sworn you saw Clemens face. You shook it off though, people sometimes mistake things for faces all the time!

“I suppose I did, I’m sorry”

“No need to apologize, my dear”

You both continued the walk. Meanwhile, a red clad figure was tucked behind a door that lead to an empty hallway. A red rose painting right outside the door. He had a sharpened piece of graphite and a small book in his hands, he was sketching your face. This time, you looked confused. He caught that sweet expression through the crack between the door and its hinges. He finished off the sketch and put the book in his coat pocket. He was off to find you again.

Several times through the day you saw his red coat, his head of brown hair, the golden shine of his shoulder pads, but as soon as you turned he was gone. The first few times you greeted what you thought was Clemens, but you were only met with silence, an empty field of vision, and a concerned look from the person you were conversing with previously. The next few times, you turned your head fast to try and catch a good look, but it never worked. By the end of the day you were feeling highly unnerved. With a smile a little more forced than usual, you bid the friends you were talking to goodnight and swiftly made it to your room. Luckily, no visions of red appeared.

“I can’t be that hung up on the conversation, right? I mean, sure it was the first time we talked but it wasn’t that bad!”

You thought out loud to yourself. You calmed your pacing heart down as best you could and got ready for bed, tucking yourself underneath the lavish covers. You closed your eyes and told yourself everything will be better by tomorrow, after all, it’s a shiny new day ready to greet you! What you didn’t know is the future looked far more red than you ever anticipated.

~Next Week~

It got worse. So much worse. Every other minute was torture not knowing when this phantom Clemens would appear to you. You did your best to play it off, but the paranoia got to you. Every time you whipped your head around, the person beside you was very concerned and rightfully freaked out. You started to feel like you were going insane. Why was he everywhere? Why did he appear to you only from the corner of your eye? Why could nobody else see him? You found it harder and harder to leave your room everyday knowing that as soon as you step outside, you’re going to be followed by this strange apparition. It was silly wasn’t it? One conversation and that’s all it took for you to break. You felt ridiculous and that feeling of going crazy for no reason only served to make you even more paranoid.

You woke up and reluctantly you got ready for the day. You can’t just lock yourself away, right? Isolation would simply make you more crazy, and your brain would eventually convince you that you were still being watched. It’s best to go about your day as normal until you figure out what the hell is going on. Don’t go full conspiracy theorist. That’s the plan.

You walked downstairs, glancing over your shoulder every once in a while until you made it to the dining hall. There, seated at the table was Bernard, William, Maximilian, Percy, Emory and…Clemens. Your heart dropped for a moment.

Ah, hello my darling!” Max called out to you

Upon the famous French actor announcing your arrival, the scar faced warden looked up at you and you could’ve fainted on the spot. His eyes were burrowing so deep into yours. Today, there was no smile on your face. Max continued to speak to you.

“Please take a seat and join us! You’re just in time for breakfast!”

Everyone was looking at you.

‘Normal. Everything is normal’ You told yourself.

You plaster a smile to your face as quickly as possible and it fooled most people at that table, except for one of course. Clemens could see straight through you. That strained smile had to be one of his favourite expressions so far. Clinging to your sanity as much as possible only to have it falter. That was pure gold to him.

“Hello everyone..”

You spoke gracefully, but it was shakier than usual. You took a seat next to Bernard, far away from Clemens. It’s good Clemens usually isolates himself anyways. If he were as social as Max, sitting away from him would’ve been much more difficult. Bernard brought over a bowl of grapes and you offered you some, but your stomach felt nauseous knowing Clemens was right there. You opted for a glass of water instead.

“How was everyone’s night?” You asked

Most people said good and thanked you for asking, but to everyone’s surprise, Clemens spoke up.

“How was your night, (Y/N)?”

This was the first time had spoken to you since your first concert over a week ago. Your eyes met his and you felt as though the tension was almost tangible. You swallowed the dry lump in your throat and responded as normally as possible.

“It was good. Thank you for asking”

Clemens had to try not to smile. He could hear the shiver in your voice when no one else could. Your paranoia shining as bright like a star, and the way you froze was like you became a beautiful portrait in and of yourself. Frozen in time with that hidden terror deep beneath your skin. Clemens couldn’t overstate how much he adored it.

Breakfast went by painfully slow. You managed to eat a slice of bread and some grapes before you felt too nervous to continue. Bernard took notice of your lack of appetite.

“Are you alright, dear? Are you feeling sick at all?”

Yes you are, but the sickness is sitting at the table a few chairs down.

“N-No no, I’m okay. I’m simply a little cold today. I think there might be draft in my room”

You smiled and reassured your closest friend. He didn’t really look anymore comforted.

“Alright. Please let me know if I can help you at all”

That sentence gave you a small glimmer of soothing relief in your time of mental distress. Knowing you had people who would be there for you and lend their help was a blessing in this manor. Your face blossomed a smile. A real genuine smile.

“Thank you, Bernard. I appreciate it”

Once Bernard saw your real smile, he felt better. He went back to his breakfast as you excused yourself from the table. As you walked away with your clean plate, Clemens eyes seemed to follow. You hurriedly washed the plate with a kitchen cloth you soaked in water and you put it on the counter, speedily walking away from the dining hall.

~One Walk Later~

You found yourself huddled in the library, nose deep in a book that had caught your interest. Finally some time without those constant visions of Clemens. Finally some peace. It was all well until you heard someone entering the library. You held your breath in case it was the man you were dreading, but thankfully it was none other than Bernard, your best friend.

“Hello (Y/N), are you feeling any better from this morning?”

You’ve never breathed such a sigh of relief.

“Yes. I’m much better, especially now that you’re here”

Bernard smiled at that,

“You’ve had me quite worried this last week. You seem much more nervous. You act the same as when you first arrived here”

You felt your heart beating faster with a mix of anxiety and guilt for making your friend worry for you, especially since it’s over something as ridiculous as seeing a regular resident here. How are you supposed to tell him what you’ve been seeing? ‘Oh, I’ve just been seeing hallucinations of a man I’ve barely talked to!’…Like that’s going to fly over well.

“I’ve just been feeling as though I’m being…watched for some reason”

That’s at least part of the truth. Bernard looks at you curiously,

“Being watched? By whom?”

You swallow,

“I’m not too sure. I understand I have many friends and acquaintances here and nobody would want to hurt me. Perhaps I feel as though that is too good to be true?”

You lie through your teeth. Bernard gives you a reassuring smile.

“I can assure you that nobody here wants to harm you. We have all grown to like you in some way or another”

You nod. Yeah…yeah, he’s right! Nobody wants to hurt you. If they wanted to hurt you, they would’ve done so already, as terrifying as that sounds. You’re still alive and you’ve made friends despite the odds. These men are capable to keeping an entire manor in check. They know how to protect you too. You take a breath and slowly let it out.

“Yes, you’re right. Thank you. I don’t know why I’m so worried. I have all of you!”

Your happy little smile warms Bernard’s heart and he opens his arms for a hug. You gladly go into the tall man’s arms and are pleasantly engulfed by his tall figure

“I’m glad I could ease your mind, my dear”

You both let go and you sit back down on your chair while Bernard readies to take his leave. Before he goes though, he looks back at you one more time.

“I’ll be here for you if you need anything at all”

You nod and he walks away. The library is now silent. You pick up your book once more and find the spot you left off.

~Small Time Skip~

You read for almost an hour before you start feeling a little thirsty. You hadn’t peeled your eyes away from the book for even a second, you were so engrossed in the story. You look over to the side table and place your book down, folding the page corner in so you don’t lose your spot.

Everything was good until you looked up. To your absolute horror, you saw a sliver of a face staring straight at you from behind a bookshelf. Your body as frozen as an icicle that’s both falling and shattering at the same time. You thought it wasn’t real for a second. Their eye was wide and focused on your every move. A tuft of brown hair just barely grazing their face. They were dead silent as they watched and you actually hoped it was a hallucination this time. But, they blinked. That small movement was all it took to make you fully comprehend this was real. You’re being watched right now.

You scream. Bloodcurdlingly so. How long have they been watching you? You shut your eyes tightly, and flinched back into your chair, your arms in front of your face in a pathetic attempt to protect yourself. Quickly, you heard the library door swing open and footsteps running up to your location. Henry whipped around the corner to where you sat shaking like a leaf.

“(Y/N), what happened!?”

You managed to piece together words well enough to warn him about the lurking figure,

“T-There’s-!…There is someone there!”

Henry looked behind the bookshelf you frantically pointed your finger at, but to his confusion, he couldn’t find anyone. He looked around the place a little more but not a trace of anybody was left behind. Henry made his way back to you with a worried but compassionate expression and placed his hands on your shoulders, pulling you in for a hug.

“My darling, there’s no one here…”

You stared wide eyed at nothing in particular, taking in what he had told you. How many times had you been dismissed? Told that everything is fine when it is clearly not. You felt something you hadn’t felt in a while. Frustration. Why could nobody else see what you saw?

“I know I saw someone there…they blinked, I saw them! They were just…staring at me!”

Henry was taken aback by your tone. You haven’t been this upset since your arrival, and even then, you weren’t frustrated like you are now.

“I don’t know what to tell you, my dear. I looked and there was no one…you are safe”

You tried to relax in his embrace and believe with all your heart what he had told you, but you knew what you saw. You weren’t alone, and who knows if you’re safe or not.

~Later That Night~

You lied in bed, terrified as hell. You can still see the piercing amber eye that stared into your soul each time you closed your eyes. Henry walked you back to your room and for the whole time you kept looking around to see if anybody was following you. Henry had to talk you down from full on running back to your room. Several residents saw you and the blacksmith. They wondered what was going on as had never seen you so panicked before. What on earth could’ve caused the manors resident sunshine to become so fearful? Needless to say, you had a very bad sleep that night.

~Clemens POV~

He took the paint brush and added the final stroke. A tiny, faint, and thin line of light blue, almost white paint. The bristles gently painted a long dripping tear drop. The perfect addition to a perfect painting. Such a pretty face. Clemens eyes lit up with pride at his newest masterpiece. Such perfect encapsulation of dread, fear, and despair. Your reaction at the library was priceless. That’s how he wants you to be all the time. So wrecked with paranoia you can only think of him.

He takes a step back and admires his painting. Another to add to the collection. Over the last week, Clemens had been on a bit of an art binge. His days were filled to the brim with sketching and painting. Everyday he woke up and he actually had something to look forward to. It was odd but pleasant sensation that was so easy to maintain. All he needed to do was find his lovely muse. Luckily, it wasn’t that hard. You had built a nice routine for yourself and you had friends you preferred to spend your time with. He just needed to frequent your locations, listen for your voice, or find your friends and you would be almost guaranteed to be present.

Sketches upon sketches littered his desk. Each one with a distinct emotion. Terror, paranoia, and a forced smile were his personal favourites. Paintings of your face were hung to dry all over his walls and it all came together like an obsessive collage from hell. His chambers had now been morphed into some sort of shrine to you and the emotions you never let seep out, well…you know, until now. Clemens felt thankful nobody visited his room besides his brothers occasionally, but even they know not to disturb him when he’s painting. Having to explain all these paintings would’ve been quite the challenge.

By all means, it has been the perfect week for him, but Clemens couldn’t help but feel that something was missing. He looked at the paintings on the walls, and he felt his heart glow at seeing you, but for some reason he still felt cold. He’s been painting you only from memory and sketches all week. It’s difficult to capture that split second of insanity you display every time you see him from the corner of your eye.

‘It would be better if you were here’ He thought to himself

Now that thought got Clemens thinking. Having you there in his room, sat upon his chair with the sweetest most miserable look on your face while he painted it in real time. Clemens felt his heart doing the thing again. Speeding up, feeling the rush of emotions he had come to feel slightly addicted to at this point. To everyone else he looked and acted normal, but deep down he was slowly going as insane as you were. Each time he sketched your face or painted a negative expression of yours, he felt what you described to him when you first spoke to him. He felt happy. He was so happy to see you falling apart. Happy to know you’re losing your mind, and he’s the cause. Knowing he is cause of your sorrow makes him feel all those emotions even stronger.

Clemens found himself looking at his sketches again and again just to feel that rush of emotions he despises to love. He really wasn’t above emotion after all. He’s covered in them just as much, if not more, than any other dirty sinner. If he’s already in the mud, why not revel in it? These surges of feeling act as some kind of drug for him, and he’s all too happy to indulge himself as much as humanly possible.

What is humanly possible…Human. That’s what he is. A human.

‘I’m too human’ He thought

Humans and their desires. Humans and their emotions. Humans and their illogical thought processes. Clemens almost thought of himself as a something above human before, he was that disconnected from his humanity.

“I’m too human”

Clemens spoke to himself. He wasn’t what he thought he was. In one conversation you tore him down. Everything he thought he was was wrong. He’s not above anything. He understands that now. He’s just a human. A stupid, petty, selfish, and emotional human. No more was he collected and logical. It’s as though his person has been flipped like a coin. It’s the same Clemens, but it’s the other side. The side he never wanted to see.

The side that is too human to function.

To Be Continued…

#Clemens Averink #blackmoonowl #not my oc #writing #yandere #horror #hora aurea #wardens

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