[𝐑𝐄𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐒 𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝐂𝐋𝐎𝐒𝐄𝐃] Welcome to my personal favorite fandom book, "Horror Movie Slashers" in which we indulge in One-Shots and Headcanons written about our favorite men and women of horror!
This may also include characters that are...
Author's Note: Here. It. Is. I caved, and I wrote it. I've written a lot of things over the years on Wattpad. Nothing I have written has ever gotten the response I received for Leather and Chains. For months, I swear, I'd get a message or a comment or a post on my message board every single week begging for a Part 2. Well, now it's here.
I hope you all enjoy it.
Warnings/notes: Gender Neutral Reader, The Female Cenobite is referred to as DP because she has no name, Stalking, Sexual themes (no smut, sorry guys), canon typical violence, the reader owns a gun, implied kidnapping attempt, literally all of the cenobites are out of character and domestic and I like it that way so shush.
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
I twirled my pencil between my fingers as I stared down at a blank sheet of paper. My professor was in the middle of a lecture about god knows what. I couldn't focus even if I tried. His voice sounded like a muffled mess as my brain filtered out his speech about Shakespeare...or was it Anne Rice? God, who knows?
All I could focus on was the fact that I was being watched. It wasn't obvious at first until I pretended to drop my pen, to be sure. Jackson was watching me from behind.
I didn't even know he was in my literature class. I thought he was only in my Advanced Journalism class. How did I not notice?
It had been 2 weeks since DP told me the name of my stalker and over the course of that time, Jackson had become more persistent. At first, I thought I might just be overreacting. I tried to think the best of my classmate. I thought maybe he was just very bold with flirting and maybe he isn't really stalking me. But now I was sure that Jackson didn't know the difference between flirting and stalking.
He followed me everywhere. Everywhere I would go, he'd be there, lurking from a distance. Luckily, he didn't know where I lived.
As class drew to an end, I quickly packed up my belongings, shoving them into my backpack. I rushed out of the classroom once we were dismissed. I could hear Jackson call my name, but I continued to walk out of the campus, pretending to not hear him. I didn't plan on making any extra stops on the way home. I just wanted to get away from school as quickly as possible.
