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anglingforlevels · 5 months

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Another Generic Slasher (Yandere Slasher x Reader)

Don't mind me, accidentally deleting this story and having to repost it. It was my first attempt at writing gore, so nothing too egregious in here.

CW: Graphic Death Scenes, Character Death, Violence (A Little Against Reader), Gore, Yandere, Swearing, Reader is referred to as “handsome” but not in reference to a gender, Dead Dove, Not Proofread

Minors DNI

Life was far away, and you hoped it wouldn’t catch up to you anytime soon. So, you thought, as you arrived at the summer getaway you and your friends had planned. When the car stopped, everyone jumped out and, perhaps inspired by their own anticipation, began unpacking without missing a beat.

“Ah, let me help you with that, Ms. Browning.” Jake said, already grabbing some of the boxes that Ms. Browning had brought with her.

“Why thank you, how reliable. What a good kid.” She hummed, pleased. Ms. Browning was the lady who owned the lovely house out in the wood that you and your friends had rented for vacation. She wore her red hair in a tight bun, and donned black, thick glasses.

“No problem. Ms. Browning.” Jake smiled. That sap was always offering to help people out, so he no doubt meant it. He had never minded a bit of hard work even on his days off. You, however, were happy to leave him to do the heavy lifting.

You had come here with three of your buddies to get away from the city and enjoy your time-off with some extra flair. Jake had suggested it back when you helped him dye the tips of his brown hair a lighter shade.

You had jumped at the idea, and begun calling up the others, so much that you had forgotten about the dye for a moment, leaving Jake’s tips white, which you had insisted contrasted well with his brown hair and dark skin (though he continued pouting, not entirely convinced).

Someone gently tapped your shoulder. Looking over a bespeckled, freckled visage greeted you, as she waited patiently for you to give the go-ahead to talk. “What up, Aisha?”

She hesitated for a moment. “…Is there anything I can help with?”

You had the feeling that wasn’t what she had been wanting to say, but didn’t want to push her, so instead, you simply nodded with a grin. “Yeah, for starters, you could bring your luggage inside?”

“Right. Of course.”

You furrowed your eyebrows, a little worried for her. Your attention was called elsewhere when Sara, the finale member of the group, yelled out, her voice echoing in the forest. “Jake let’s race to see who gets their box inside first. Loser has to make dinner tonight.”

Sara emerged from the hood of Ms. Browning’s car, with two boxes stacked in her arms. Which seemed impressive, had you not seen a pillow peeking through one of the boxes. The only disadvantage was the lack of visibility, but given Sara’s buzz cut versus Jake’s long bangs, it didn’t count for much.

“You wanna race in that long dress?” Jake asked dubiously.

“Scared?” Sara smiled that crooked smile she always did when she got competitive, and Jake rolled his eyes, despite eagerly getting in position. Those dorks.

“I’ll do the countdown.” You offered. “On now. 3. 2. 1.” You kept them waiting in suspense for a moment before shouting. “NOW!”

They both kicked off and… “I won.” Aisha’s voice rang out, and there she stood with a small box in the doorway, with a little smile on her lips.

“Whaaat?” Jake exclaimed. Sara shook her head in disapproval.

“Judge, I call foul. Aisha was already by the porch.”

“We never agreed to a starting line.” You pointed out, having seen Aisha moving toward the porch mischievously while you did your countdown.

“The judge and Aisha are clearly cooperating. Outrageous.” Then, Sara smiled a cat-like smile. “Then, we’ll just have to make sure the judge comes in last place, right Jake?”

“Huh.” You said, but by the time you processed the words, they had already taken off. “Hey now!” You ran after them, but predictably lost.

“Lookin’ forward to tonight’s meal.” Jake said, looking mighty satisfied with himself. You shook your fist at them playfully.

“The energy of youth really isn’t to be overestimated.” Ms. Browning laughed, entering the house with the last of her boxes.

“Youth? Tell that to my lower back, please.” You sighed, earning an eye roll from Jake who had been subjected to that specific complaint the most, as your go-to carrier.

“At my age, anyone under forty seems young.” Ms. Browning placed her box on the table and clapped her hands satisfied. “There, that was all of it. Again, thank you for helping me carry the boxes, that’s no trivial thing. It’s been years since I’ve rented this place out, so I thought I’d replace a couple of things.”

“It was no problem, Ms. Browning, you let us stove our stuff in the car too after all. And we’re just excited to vacation somewhere so beautiful.”

“That’s true. Beautiful places seems to make the spirit brighter, don’t they? It’s like I always say, trivial is as trivial does, and ugly things are trivial.”

…

Exchanging looks, none of you knew how to respond to that, to your luck, Ms. Browning simply continued on, allowing all of you to push past it as well.

You began zoning out of the conversation, your eyes idly looking at the interior. When your eyes flew past the open door, you thought your heart would stop for a moment. You could have sworn that, for just a second, you saw a man, an impossibly tall, large man. But after blinking, he was gone.

You relaxed, certain it had probably just been your mind playing tricks on you, and that it had merely been a tree.

Sara and Jake was busy discussing who had actually been the fastest runner between the two of them, so much so that most of Ms. Browning’s introduction to the place went on deaf ears, as she prattled on about the privacy and view. Something about how it was one out of only ten buildings in the entire forest.

As you looked over the place, your eyes drifted over a dresser there seemed a little too far from the wall. Something about it piqued your curiosity, though you weren’t sure what it was, but approaching it you were awarded for said curiosity with the discovery of uneven, barely eligible letters scratched into the wall.

“Trevel?” you read out loud. Jake, who was losing the argument against Sara, eagerly joined to see what you had found, none of you noticing the way Ms. Browning shifted uncomfortably.

“It’s a name, dear.”

“A name? I’ve never heard it before.”

“Well, that makes sense. It’s an ugly name, fit for ugly boys.” You were caught off guard by the harshness of her words. Then she smiled at you and Jake. “And trivial is as trivial does, and ugly boys are trivial. Something like that would be out-of-place with such handsome kids.”

You were distracted by a loud noise outside before you could reply. A look outside revealed the neatly stacked firewood having collapsed, and by the time you looked away, Ms. Browning had already moved on from the conversation.

Before leaving us to ourselves, Ms. Browning diligently gave us a run-down over where everything was, from the firewood outside by the woodchipper, which we were allowed to make use of for fires, to the rooms, even considerately telling how far away the nearest doctors, police, and firefighters were, most being quite far with the exception of a small, local police station, so small it couldn’t even be considered small-town cops but rather forest rangers.

With our ride gone, we began packing out and taking inventory, in case something was missing, and we’d need to call a taxi for shopping. By the time all the boxes had been sorted through for the most crucial stuff, it had begun to grow darker outside.

“Man, I’m starving.” Sara grumbled.

”We could tell by the fact you only unpacked the food.”

Sara playfully stuck her tongue out at you, but even with that rude display, you obediently began collecting ingredients. Jake looked over your shoulder.

“Yellow onions are better for stews.” He commented, as he threw one of the red onions from hand to hand.

“And the red one carries more whimsy.”

“I can carry that whimsy to the pantry and get some yellow onions instead.”

That was promptly rejected. As he examined your other chosen vegetables, you got out a cutting board.

“Not gonna handle the meat first?” he asked.

You sighed. “What happened to ‘loser cooks’ that you forced me into?” you asked with a hand on your hip. Jake conceded and stepped back. The others had begun getting out the new plates that Ms. Browning had brought along.

“Remind me again, why exactly are you getting plates out already? We haven’t even begun the fire, I’m only at the prep-part?”

“Explain why you began the prep-work before the fire-“ they were interrupted by a loud crash. A plate had slipped out of Aisha’s hands, and now laid shattered on the floor. Aisha stood frozen, her eyes wide.

“I… I’ll clean it up..” She said, her tone sounding a little off.

“I think Ms. Browning mentioned that there’s a broom closet in the hallway.” Sara said, before Aisha even left, you got distracted by Jake crowding you again. By the third interjection (or advice, as he called), you put down the peeler you had used for the carrots.

“Ugh, Jake, you clearly want to do the cooking.” You said. Jake opened his mouth but seemed to think better of it and decided not to protest your words. You sighed. “You and Sara are way too competitive; you’ll even fight for a loss. I’ll go get some firewood for the fire; you get cooking duty.”

“Deal!”

You walked outside, hoping that the firewood wasn’t too damp, as you really didn’t want to cut new firewood, even if there was an axe available. These contemplations were lost as you found Aisha sitting on the porch.

“Trouble finding the broom?” You asked lightly, making Aisha jump a little, startled.

“Just needed a bit of fresh air.” She said, this time you took notice of her tone. She seemed downcast but you couldn’t quite place your finger on it. Not quite sad but definitely not happy either.

“Hey man,” you scratched your neck awkwardly. This stuff weren’t your strong suit. “don’t sweat the plate. We’ll just get Ms. Browning a new one.”

Aisha hummed in agreement, still looking at the sky. Your eyes flickered between her and the sky, trying to think of something more to say. “Uh, you know, I mistook a tree for a person, like some kind of horror movie. Which, well,” you trailed off. “What I’m trying to say, it’s more embarrassing than the plate-thing, so don’t worry about it.”

Aisha smiled at that. Whether it was your words or your clumsy attempt that made her smile, you weren’t sure. Aisha sighed, “Sometimes I wish it was a horror movie.”

She looked at you with a surprised expression, as if she hadn’t expected herself to say that either. “I don’t want to be in a horror movie, of course. Not actually. It’s just nice sometimes to imagine.”

“Escaping the jaws of death?”

Aisha was silent for a bit, as if contemplating whether to say her next words. “No. In the horror movie I meet my end. It’s not dragged out, maybe I’m one of the first ones to go. In either case, by the end of the movie, I’m dead, and when the credits are playing, they forget my name. But that’s just running away.” She looked at you and then at the ground. “I’m sorry, that’s a lot to hear.”

It was. You weren’t sure what to respond but you could see Aisha was suffering, you didn’t like seeing that at all. “You’re away from everything right now, aren’t you?”

“Yeah, I am. And I really want to enjoy this, I do. I really do. But I didn’t come here to enjoy myself, I came here to run away, somehow I can’t bring myself to relax at all. I’m sorry.”

…You scooted closer to her. “You’re out here talking with me though, that’s not running away.” Even being able to share something, however small, was still something. You thought for a moment, trying to find the right words:

“Listen, you’re… good.” You’re good? It didn’t get any clumsier than that. “Er, I guess that’s not really what you wanted to hear-“Aisha laughed, the sound comforted you.

“No, no. that’s exactly what I wanted to hear.”

“Really? Uh,” Gotta keep up this momentum somehow. “Maybe we’ll go on a trip together again, next year. It’ll be like running away from running away. No, wait, that doesn’t make sense.”

“Pfft, you’re so bad at this.” Aisha laughed, this time her laugh felt a little more genuine and unrestrained. “How am I supposed to feel melancholic with that kind of cheering up? Let’s definitely go on a trip next year. And…Thanks for coming out here and talking with me.”

She stood up, and the air felt a little lighter around her.

“Well, I should get some firewood going.” You said, begrudgingly, and stood up as well. Only for the both of you to be distracted by rustling from the trees and bushes. You blinked. You were from the city, so you weren’t used to a place with wildlife, and while you could hear the sound of birds and insects nonstop as a reminder of their existence, other types of wildlife had been forgotten by you.

You felt as if something watched you from the trees, meaning the animal probably still was there. You crouched and held out your hands, in what you hoped was a disarming gesture.

“Hey,” you said gently, “Sorry did we frighten you? It’s okay, yeah?” Your hushed words seemed to cause a stop in the rustling before the animal decided to outright leave. Your attempts to soothe apparently left a lot to be desired.

You sighed, only to be faced with Aisha staring at you in disbelief. You looked at her questioning.

“Why are you trying to befriend a wild animal? You know there’s coyotes in some parts of the forest, right?” at that you just rolled your eyes.

“Not this part of the forest, else Ms. Browning wouldn’t be renting out a vacation home.”

“Seriously…” Aisha didn’t seem any less exasperated by you. “I’ll help gather the firework, since if a beast attacked you, you might try to talk to it.”

While you didn’t appreciate her claim, you did appreciate the company and additional helping hands, the broom long forgotten. Especially once you arrived at the scattered firewood. While a pain to fix back into a neat stack, it was a relief to feel how dry and crisp the wood was, as if newly cut.

This meant the axe leaning against the woodchipper, would need no use.

“Can you grab the basket?” Aisha asked after having selected the, in her opinion, finest firewood. You looked around but couldn’t find any. “Hm… Maybe we can carry it ourselves?”

At that, the both of you took one look at the firewood you had picked to last throughout the entire night and decided against it. “I’ll go grab something to carry with.” You volunteered.

You slipped inside, your presence going unnoticed by Jake who was too absorbed with cooking and Sara who was busy crying over newly cut onions. Basket, basket, basket… Satisfied you managed to find one in the living room, by the fireplace, which in hindsight felt a little obvious.

You looked out of the window, rolling your eyes playfully after spotting the way Aisha was sneakily rearranging your half of the pile. She had felt it wasn’t neat enough, while you had argued it would all be thrown into a basket either way.

A large figure emerged from the woods, and you froze. The impossibly tall frame, the one that had you convinced it had to have been a tree, there was no way you wouldn’t recognize that. The figure was huge, in every sense of the word, a bulking presence, enveloped by a long jacket.

He turned his head towards the window, and you duck, panicked. But you swore you had seen nothing but white for a moment. You barged into the kitchen once more, catching the attention of Jake and Sara, but any jokes about your explosive entrance died out when they saw your expression.

“What’s wrong?”

“I saw a stranger outside.” You swallowed. “I have a bad feeling about this, he’s-“ Dangerous. You could feel it, if not feel it, you could certainly tell he was capable of being dangerous from his build alone.

“Where’s Aisha?” Sara asked concerned, seeing as she not only hadn’t returned earlier, but wasn’t with you. You confirmed her fears.

“Outside.” You heard a mumbled “fuck”. You wanted to panic and swear as well, but you needed to do something. “Alright, you two, call the police. And I’ll get Aisha back inside.”

“What about the guy?”

“I- he didn’t attack or anything. If I keep acting like I don’t know he’s there, Aisha might be able to get inside. I just have to act natural.” You hoped you sounded confident and reassuring, but even if you didn’t, there wasn’t many other plans being thrown around, so all of you nodded, before you returned to the main entrance.

You opened the door askew, so you could see out but couldn’t be seen.

You needed to call Aisha inside but found yourself hesitating. The words struggling to make it past the lump in your throat. He hadn’t done anything yet, so if you acted like before, then maybe he’d do nothing, it was your best shot at least. Even so, you hands grew clammy as you thought to keep your voice from shaking.

“Hey Aisha!” you called out, watching her from the creek of the door. You worried that if she could see your face, then she’d be able to see your fear, barely concealed. “Could you come help find the basket?”

“Did you check by the fireplace; it might have one?”

“Uh, yeah, I did.”

“Maybe there isn’t one, then? Just come out and we’ll carry i-“

“No! Um, I’m sure, yes. Ms. Browning mentioned a basket at some point,” you interrupted hastily. Worry crept up that you had let panic color your voice in a far too obvious way. You swallowed. “It’ll drive me crazy if I just give up, please, just a quick look?” You pleaded.

“Alright, if it’s that big of a deal to you.” Aisha shrugged. You held your breath as she approached, only able to breathe once she was inside, no looming figure following as far as you could see. She opened her mouth, but you didn’t even let her form words before you spoke.

“Aisha, there’s someone outside.”

Maybe there was more delicate ways to share this fact. Ways that didn’t make her bemused expression shatter like that. But you didn’t have time to navigate that kind of delicacy. Aisha furrowed her brows, tentatively glancing at the door.

She looked back at you, as if hoping to find a trace of insincerity or joking but faltered as she found nothing of the sorts. Neither of you said anything else as you locked the door and joined the others in the living-room.

They had finished their call already and was standing back-to-back. You assumed it was to avoid getting snuck up on, though they were left with two blind sides.

Any words one might have ushered, choked in the tension, and instead all of you stood together silently, anxiously.

None of you knew how long time went before the cop arrived, though it couldn’t have been long. Even so, each moment felt like an eternity, as frazzled nerves turned every sound of the forest into a foreboding sign.

So, at the sound of wheels, all of you hurried to the door. A cop car that looked like something from a period piece, revealed what must have been a lackluster budget at the tiny station. Out of the car, a middle-aged man stepped out, using his hand to move his long hair aside.

“Hey kiddos.” He greeted them as he approached, stopping a little past the firewood. His voice had a condescending tone to it. “I’m Mr. Davidsons, so y’all say you saw a perp?”

“Well, we saw – or, well, they saw – a strange man walking around here.” Aisha explained, stumbling over her words. At this Mr. Davidson lifted an eyebrow, glancing at you briefly.

“Did anyone else actually see someone? Or was it just this one there?” He laughed, it was a somewhat unpleasant sound, grating in the way only an adult’s dismissive tone could be, doubly so given all of you were adults.

“Sir, I’d be happy if it was just me being paranoid but…” Your eyes darted around nervously scanning the area. You wondered if the car alone might have scared him off. “I saw a man. He looked really big and strong.”

Those words didn’t seem to do much in the way of convincing. “You guys city folks? Out here in the country, especially this lively piece of forest, there’s plenty of critters. You probably just saw an ugly bear.” He snorted.

Sara looked about ready to school him but all of you froze when he appeared. This time he didn’t simple stand or walk aimlessly around, he was heading straight towards them, though you couldn’t see his face clearly from his red hair and hunched posture, you spotted glimpses of a white mask.

Mr. Davidson noticed the way all of your attention had shifted, and following your eyes, he faced the hulking mass making his way towards them all.

“Sir, this is the police, stay where you are.” Mr. Davidson said. He was much more serious now that he realized there was someone. He was on guard, his hand ready to draw out his gun, you noticed the way his hand shook, and felt any sense of security vanish, as you watched the pale, sweaty cop attempt to talk down to what felt like a monster of a man.

Similarly, he didn’t seem very convinced by Mr. Davidson either, as he only made a grunting sound and continued his slow gait forward, stray pieces of firewood being kicked out of the way. “Sir, I’m serious. If you continue moving, I’ll consider it contempt of a police officer.”

But he only got closer. Mr. Davidson held out his gun when the man was within arm-reach. A proximity that left your guts churning. However, the man did stop, a fact that made Mr. Davidson breathe a sigh of relief, as the man spread out his arms. Perhaps it was the way it made him look bigger and emphasized the sheer size of his arm muscles and shoulders, but you felt more threatened by it, though Mr. Davidson just nodded in approval at what he perceived as a sign of submission.

And then an axe nestled into Mr. Davidson’s neck.

Someone shrieked, a shrill and piercing sound. Then you realized it was yourself. The man grabbed the axe’s handle, but instead of nestling it free, he forced it to slice through the rest of Mr. Davidson’s neck, freeing the axe.

Mr. Davidson’s head thumped to the ground, rolling slightly.

You felt a pull on your arm, flinching until you realized it was Jake pulling you the last few steps toward the door, before shutting it close, and locking.

“Oh my god, oh my god-“Aisha was breathlessly chanting, intercut with small “what the hell”, unable to provide anything more poignant. Sara, who had been no worse for wear, straightened up at this. She took Aisha’s hand, and though nothing else was said, Aisha seemed to be reeled back to her senses, enough to break up the broken chant.

“We don’t have time to waste.” You said, fishing out your phone. Your hand shook so badly that it took a few tries to unlock. “Call the police?” you asked, which Sara scoffed at.

“Right, that turned out great last time.”

“They didn’t take us seriously last time, but now we got a dead cop on our hands. Who else are we gonna call, the fire department?”

“Please just make the call, before he gets in.” Aisha requested, anxiously looking around, Sara relented with a nod. You only got halfway through dialing the police’s number before it was interrupted by a call, which you accidentally accepted.

“Shoot.”

“Well, hello to you too.” Ms. Browning responded drily.

“Ah, Ms. Browning. Sorry, this isn’t a good time. Actually, could you call the cops?” The less time they had to stay in one place, the better.

“The cops?”

“Yeah, there’s some crazy freak out here, Ms. Browning. He killed a cop!” Jake said panicked. “It’s some huge dude with a mask.”

“After all this time. He’s still…” Ms. Browning didn’t sound surprised, only forlorn.

“What does that mean? Did you… know about him?” At this, Ms. Browning laughed joylessly.

“I left him here in the woods, decades ago. Anyone else would have died. Ah, but not little Trevel. Instead, he grew.” She was quiet for a beat before continuing pensively, her voice distant, “These woods are… Unusual. Things don’t grow right here. Why, my little Trevel was my height by the time he turned five.”

“Trevel?”

“I wasn’t ready for a baby, you see. That’s why… I figured the next year, when I prepared this place for renters, it would be over, no corpse left, no baby left. Just life back to normal. But it wasn’t. He was still here.

He’d stare. Just following dumbly along, staring at everything I did. I couldn’t stand those inquisitive eyes, I didn’t ask for any of that, you know? When he was four, to avoid seeing those cursed eyes, I gave him a mask, told him never to take it off, and what would you know? Seems he grew up right along with the mask.”

“Grew up along the… Huh? Ms. Browning, we’re not following?”

“It couldn’t be taken off, as if it had grown into his face. I suppose it might have, what with his growth spurt and all.” Was all the clarification Ms. Browning gave, as she continued recounting, as if in a daze. “At first, I was… Startled. But you can get used to all manners of things, when the surprise settled, I was just relieved. The mask didn’t have a mouth, so, surely he’d starve to dead.” She lamented. “But no, oh no, not my little Trevel.” There was a bitter edge to her voice. “He was always a good-for-nothing kid, couldn’t even do something as trivial as die.”

Somehow, disgust was all you could feel for Ms. Browning.

“That’s… Horrible.” Aisha said quietly. All of you looked at each other for a moment. Evidently, Ms. Browning agreed to Aisha’s words, sighing deeply.

“So, it is. This was a mistake, returning here like this. I won’t make it again; this’ll be the last time this house is used.”

“You’ll call the cops, right Ms. Browning?”

“Some things are better kept hidden, kiddo. I’m truly sorry but… Goodbye.” And then she hung up. All of you stood in stunned silence for a bit. But you didn’t have time for stunned silence. You began dialing the police’s number again but stopped in your tracks at the sound of weight violently thrown at the door.

“Are you kidding me,” Sara whispered, “We wasted what little time we had on Ms. Browning?!”

As if to answer her question, you were blinded for a moment, as an axe nestled into the door. Then another hit. None of you waited till he was able to enter through the destroyed door, before running. You and Jake hid behind the dresser, while Sara, still holding Aisha’s hand, pulled them into the small pantry-room.

You looked once more at the clumsily written “Trevel” but didn’t have long to look at it before your focus was forced elsewhere, as Trevel himself emerged from the hall, with the sound of his axe dragging against the floor.

You held your breath, as thudding footsteps carried the guy through the room. Your close proximity allowed you to make out that the dirtied jacket enveloping his figure seemed to actually be multiple articles of clothing, sewn crudely together, or… Not sewn, that wasn’t quite right.

There were no stitches or strings to see, despite the clumsy, crude nature, rather, it looked as if the clothes had simply melted together. He turned around, allowing you a clear look at his face.

Or it would have, had his face been visible.

The white you had spotted earlier seemed to have been the mask, which covered his entire face. A white, round mask, decorated only by dirt. You couldn’t see where the mask ended, and his face began.

You felt your phone vibrate against your leg. Taking it out, carefully using your hand to cover the light of the screen, you saw a text from Sara.

Cop car still here. Sneak out.

Right, that’s right. It was still out there. You could drive away. You and Jake were close to the entrance, it was feasible that you’d be able to sneak out as long as Trevel didn’t turn around. The harder challenge was for Sara and Aisha, the pantry-room further into the room.

You shot a quick text back. Me and Jake will go when you reach the dresser.

Slowly, you saw Aisha and Sara emerge from the pantry. Carefully placing each step to avoid the creak of floorboards, trying to move whenever Trevel took another thundering step, to mask their own sounds. Trevel flipped the couch, and you flinched.

Sara and Aisha rounded a corner and reached the kitchen island, receiving a natural cover. Once they made it past the kitchen island, they’d almost be by the dresser. It would be doable to get away. Trevel turned around, and your heart sank as he got closer to the kitchen island.

You still had your phone in your hand, so you tossed it. When it hit the wall, it caught his attention, causing him to stop up and turn around. They just needed to wait, hopefully he’d walk towards the sound… Wait, what are they doing?

Sara tugged on Aisha’s hand, and they began sneaking away under Trevel’s inattentiveness, an arm reach away from him. Trevel lifted his foot, and you felt relief, he was going to investigate your bait. The relief was visible on Jake’s face as well, Sara had made it past the kitchen island, Aisha not far behind, and then…

A crass, clicking sound.

Aisha had stepped on the remains of a shattered plate.

A large hand shot out, grabbing Aisha’s face, forcing her glasses to shift awkwardly and press into her face. When he lifted his arm, you witnessed the way Aisha’s entire body were left to dangle helplessly in the air, forcibly separating her and Sara’s hands, and then… He tightened his grip.

The glasses bent and broke, glass and frames cutting into her skin, and her skin seemed to cave under his fingers, blood pooling around them as they sunk into flesh, white bones protruding through skin as if pushed away from their rightful spot.

Aisha’s whimpers and cries of pain were replaced by a painful gurgling as her nose caved into her mouth. After a while, her body stopped moving at all. And he simply let go of her, her limp body falling to the ground awkwardly.

It had all happened too fast for any of you to react, but the sound of her body hitting the floor brought you all to action, running as fast as you could. Though he pursued, it was a relief to know all of you were faster.

You swung the doors open once you reached the car, able to see Trevel’s silhouette move through the windows of the entrance. “What’s the hold up, Jake?”

At that question, Jake looked up at them. “There’s no key.”

What. If it wasn’t in the car, then that meant…

Instinctively all of you looked at Mr. Davidson’s headless corpse. And only a few meters behind, stood the hulking figure of Trevel, having reached the door.

“I’ll go get the keys.” Sara said, to which you and Jake shook your head furiously. “Please, back in the kitchen, I pulled Aisha too fast, and she… Let me do this, okay? I am the fastest, after all.” She said with a weak smile. You didn’t have the heart to point out the tears in her eyes.

Sara made a dash towards Mr. Davidson’s body, basically throwing herself at him. Trevel, similarly, made his way towards her. It was true that Sara was faster than him but that meant very little with such a small distance.

She fumbled through Mr. Davidson’s pockets, when he descended upon her. A sickening crunch as his foot crushed her ankle. Sara howled in pain. Then he moved further up, delivering a stomp to her back, pressing her against the corpse.

You could have sworn you saw the mushy flesh of Mr. Davidson give in, but maybe it was just your imagination adding to the wet, snapping sounds mixed with that same sickening crunch. Even so, she still desperately clawed at Mr. Davidson’s pockets.

You didn’t have time to react when he had gotten Aisha, but there was no way you’d just watch now.

You jumped out of the car, and though you didn’t look, you could hear the sound of Jake following along. Finding one of the larger wood pieces, you charged at him.

You swung the wood at him with all your might, but he barely seemed to notice, instead shoving you away like a pesky fly. You were flung to the side, and crashed into something hard and metallic, the sudden loud humming noises suggested it had been turned on.

You felt a sharp pain in your foot, having landed on it wrong, and struggled to stand up again, leaning against the machine, that turned out to be the woodchipper, for support.

Meanwhile, Sara had fished out the keys but with Trevel looming above her, reaching out, she didn’t wait for his next move. It wasn’t a meaningful act of defiance or defense, but an act of someone too close to the jaws of a predator to escape, but close enough to rip and tear. Sara flew towards Trevel, grabbing onto the edges of his mask.

Trying to tear the mask off. You didn’t know what had gone through Sara’s head as her fingers to the corner of face – and you assumed, the mask – you only knew that she gasped and let go as if on instinct. “But… It’s a mask?” she feebly whispered, confusion on her face.

Though Sara had lost her grip, there was no chance of falling as Trevel held onto her, drawing her closer. Sara struggled but was rendered immobile by the tight grip. Even from the sidelines, it was easy to see the way the grip tightened, to hear the sound of metal bending as Sara’s accessories caved under the pressure, the way her breathing grew ragged and wheezing, hear the sounds of bones and joints snapping.

You had managed to get up but was struggling to keep balance, that wasn’t the case for Jake who was ready to rush at them. Sara, through ragged, bloody breaths, yelled for him to stop, forcing her awkwardly bending arm to shoot out, throwing him the keys.

Jake looked between Sara, who had taken to wildly flailing, punching, clawing, till her fingers were left bloody, and you. He stood there for a second before, with a conflicted expression, running to you, Neither of you looked as Sara’s pained sounds turned to gurgles, or when she stopped making sounds altogether, instead Jake dragged you to the car.

” We’ve been outrunning that freak the entire night, so…” He swallowed and steadied his breath before continuing, trying to be strong, as if he wasn’t as shaken up as you were. “If we just make it to the car, everything will be okay. If we can outrun him on legs, then we can outrun him on wheels.”

Even as you heard Sara’s body being dropped, Jake didn’t let go of you, making sure you got into the car. He didn’t even circle around the car, simply crawled over you, and into the driver’s seat. He put in the keys. You could see Trevel’s bloodied mask, the remnant of Sara’s vomit.

The engine coughed. Jake hit his hand against the steering wheel. And then, the car started. You laughed, not out of joy but from the adrenaline pumped relief. The car moved backwards, Trevel’s charging figure growing smaller.

“Fuck yeah!” Jake hollered out. “An old, stubborn car but you got the job done, hah!”

None of you mentioned Sara. None of you could bear to. Not yet.

“Jake, we’re going to have to turn around.” You said, looking behind at the countless sturdy trees. It was a narrow, winding road. They wouldn’t be able to do it backwards. Jake cursed under his breath.

“It’s okay. I don’t need to drive all the way back to the house to have enough room, just a bit closer.” He said reassuringly, you weren’t sure who he was trying to reassure. The dull, warm pain in your foot only seemed to grow.

Jake drive forward but before the house even came back into view, from the shadow-covered bushes, a large figure emerged, only meters away. You weren’t sure if Jake intentionally rammed into him or weren’t able to stop the car in time, but the hood of the car hit the figure with a loud thud.

And he hadn’t budged. You could vaguely make out a huge dent in the now-still car, and the small, sad stutters the car made from the impact. The large figure reached behind his back, but his body remained completely still, fixated on them.

Jake’s hands were shivering; “Jesus chr-“

“No time for prayers.” You interrupted, shifting in your seat to grab the reverse gear and stump on the brake pedal, pain shooting up your leg, the car moved backwards in a sudden jolt. Trevel held up his axe. He lifted it into the air, and as the car began to move away, he swung it into the hood.

The car were making concerning wheezing noises but by now, Jake’s adrenaline had returned to spur him into action, and he forced the car to continue. To your shared horror, the car didn’t budge. The wheels spinning helplessly as the car was kept in place.

Then he pulled the axe closer, dragging the car closer with a screech. You and Jake didn’t even exchange glances as you both flung your respective car doors open, jumping out. Jake couldn’t make it over to you, without Trevel who stood in front of the car, making it to you, so you both ran on your own, even as your foot ached and bent oddly, a searing fire spreading.

But you noticed, Jake hadn’t run away from Trevel and the house, but towards the house. It was a long travel to make it to any actual road and it was getting very dark, was that why? But even so, Jake had a phone on him, still – unlike you.

You didn’t know why he hadn’t run that way, but you changed your own course, rushing to him. You couldn’t be separated now. Not after Aisha and Sara. Jake, disorientated from the crash, was losing his speed advantage, the distances between the two far too little for comfort, as Jake had reached the firewood pile.

You made eye contact with Jake, whose eyes widened. “What are you doing? Run away, I’m buying time!”

So that was why. He had just hoped you wouldn’t notice in time. But the moment of distraction meant Trevel, who was steadily becoming the fastest of the two, caught up to him. He grabbed onto him, and you half-expected him to crush him like he had Aisha and Sara, instead, he shoved Jake against the woodchipper.

As Jake’s arm and shoulder disappeared into the machine, his face twisted into a pained grimace, and a red mist of blood, minced meat, and viscera descended from the machine with splintered bone shards like macabre snowflakes. You didn’t even think as you continued running, you should have had half-the-mind to at least curse yourself out for wasting the sacred seconds he had sacrificed.

Yet all you could think was you needed to get him out. Only as his face were pressed against the machine, did you stop up. You felt your stomach churning as the metallic smell coated the air. Trevel seemed to spend a moment just looking at the shredded innards and minced remains of Jake.

Then he flexed his finger around his axe and turned towards you. So, you ran.

But you had gotten too close, so running in the opposite direction of him meant running towards the house. Going past the house would mean venturing further into the forest, further away from any civilization. You didn’t fancy your chances with coyotes, and you didn’t fancy your chances with Trevel.

Maybe that instinctive desire to escape to something civil made you run into the house to hide, you’d like to think it was a strategic choice, somehow. But you knew that wasn’t the case, you just sought the familiarity.

Inside the house, you dashed upstairs, worried he’d be able to break down a wall or window in any room downstairs. You could hear him by the time you closed the door, and for a second debated if it was best to be silent and hide, but then again, you didn’t have many hiding places in this room.

What you did have was a dresser. So, knowing how it would lead him upstairs, you desperately pushed the dresser in front of the door. Then the bed. Anything you could get hold of in the room was pushed in front of the door.

And then you scurried to the other end of the room, trying to ignore the fiery burn of your foot. You heard his approach but still jumped when the axe cut into the wooden door. Your breath grew ragged, as his masked face showed through the cracks.

You didn’t know what you had hoped for from this barricade. It wasn’t a surprise that filled you, when the furniture moved along as he shoved the door. Even so, the world seemed to blur out the second he stepped into the room, from ruined and moved furniture that now seemed more a barricade for you than him.

Your heartbeat rang out, thump thump. He was closing in with heavy footsteps. Thump, thud, thump, thud. Even with the mask, you felt his eyes on you. Thump, thud, thump, thud. You could see his fingers flex around the axe.

Grasping at straws, you shifted between staring at him and around you, for anything you could use. Behind him, a now ruined dresser stood. Its familiar look made you realize it was identical to the one downstair. “It’s an ugly name, fit for ugly boys.”

…It was worth a shot, right?

“My,” your voice were shaky, “What a handsome guy you are.”

Was that how she said it? He stopped dead in his tracks. He was so close; you could touch him if you reached out. The air felt crushing, under the weight of silence. Then, he crouched down. Your shivers stopped, frozen.

He leaned closer. His free hand on the floor to support his weight as he leaned closer. Your eyes flickered to the axe. He was still holding it.

“I,” your voice cracked but you forced yourself to continue, “I didn’t get a good look before. But, really, you are handsome. Big and strong.”

He was close. You could smell the lingering scent of sweat and pine. Hear the deep rumbling hum he made. Feel his warmth breath. From where it came, you weren’t sure.

God, what else? What else did Mr. Browning say?

Suddenly, a hand reached out and you flinched. He had let go of the axe. And yet, you had seen what he could do with his hands. Your breath were stuck in your throat, as you braced yourself. But his hand only lingered near your cheek.

Not quite touching, but close enough for you to feel the warmth of his fingertips. This… Was a good sign, right? He was hesitating, he didn’t do that with the others. He didn’t do that with Aisha. The anxiety buzzing didn’t ease, the gory memory playing relentlessly in your head.

In your mind you envisioned the way his hand could still decide to grab onto you harshly. So, gently with fingers that shook far too much, you touched his hand. His head made a sharp movement, causing you to flinch, but he didn’t stop you.

So, you lead his rugged, scarred hand closer to your cheek, closing the small gap. His fingers stiffly on your cheek, which was better than lingering above your face. Like playing dolls, you hoped positioning him into a less hostile position would have any effect.

You looked at each other for a while in deafening silence. You were worried about losing the temporary fascination, the stiffness of his body warning you that you weren’t quite safe yet. What is it that worked so far? What does he want to hear?

…

“You’re good, Trevel. You’re good.”

For a moment, he didn’t respond or react. Then the touch seemed to melt, his finger brushing against your cheek. Not pleasant or even soft, but you could tell he was trying, or maybe he was just exploring? You didn’t dare to move, worried you’d set him off.

By the time his hand dropped down, light had begun to filter through the tree leaves, and exhaustion clinging to you. Trevel seemed placated, simply staring wordlessly at you.

Cautiously, you stood up. You could feel the way he followed your every movement. But it felt like a curious gaze, like a dog equally confused and curious about its owner’s actions. You weren’t sure if he’d be okay with you leaving, but if you could buy yourself some time, perhaps you’d be able to get to a road and hitchhike.

“I’ll just go fetch something, if that’s okay?” You asked carefully, taking a demonstrative step towards the door.

Swish

Past your head, the axe flew, nestling into the door. Before you even could look back at him, he grabbed your wrist and tugged you toward the floor, a little too harshly for your injured foot, where he returned to simply stare at you, growling whenever you moved too much.

Life was far away, and by god, you hoped it would someday catch up to you again.

#yandere #yandere x reader #dead dove do not eat #tw death #tw violence #It's a little embarrassing to reread the story #It's way too obvious that I didn't plan the story out (and natural dialogue and lore-reveal? Don't know 'em)#but that aside #did have fun with it #I should watch a slasher soon #havent revisited the genre for years #despite my yearly pledge to finally watch texas chainsaw massacre

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