Love and Despair || Human! Monokuma x Fem! Reader

|| Chapter Thirty-Two: Attempted Murder ||

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Guide:

(Y/n)=(Your/name)

(e/c)=(eye/colour)

(s/c)=(skin/colour)

(N/n)=(Nickname)

(L/n)=(Last/name)

{Word Count: 2,108}

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(Y/n)'s P.O.V.

I stared down at the sleeping figures before me, my hands shaking slightly as I edged closer and closer to the bed. The ringing of my ears drowned out the sound of my labored breaths. Everything around me seemed surreal and the only thing I could focus on was the sound of someone's voice echoing in my head.

"Go on, kill them. Do it, (Y/n). Do it. Do it. Do it."

My mouth was as dry as a desert as I slowly unsheathed the knife in my hand. There was a reflection of moonlight casted upon the shiny blade. Turning it towards me, I could see my reflection in the untainted metal.

My (e/c) eyes were wide and my (s/c) skin was paled from dread. The expression on my face was filled with absolute despair. I couldn't stand to look at myself any longer, so I turned my attention to my sleeping father.

I quickly covered his mouth and raised the knife, stabbing him multiple times in the chest. Blood from the attack splattered everywhere from the sloppy stabs that were penetrated into his chest. He began to struggle against me, but he was significantly weakened from the loss of blood. His expression when he saw that I was the culprit to the attack was absolutely horrifying to look at.

Awoken from the struggling of my father, my mother let out a disturbed gasp at the sight before her. I quickly lunged at her, straddling her waist and covering her mouth as she let out a scream. I began to hesitate when I saw the glint in her eyes. She was silently pleading for me not to do this, but a voice reminded me of what I was supposed to do.

"Do it."

Tears fell down my blood-stained face as I began to stab my mother. I continued to stab her chest until she no longer moved. Everything around me seemed to shift as I realized what I had just done.

I gasped as I stared down at my lifeless parents. There was blood everywhere. On the walls, on the sheets, on my body. My salty tears were the only thing washing away the crimson blood on my face. I couldn't help but feel my heart ache at the appalling expressions permanently plastered on their faces. Their own loving daughter had brutally slaughtered them both without a clear motive as to why.  I stared down at the knife as I sobbed.

The previously untainted knife was now painted with crimson. My grip on the handle tightened as I began to cry more. I buried my face in my bloodied hands as an endless stream of tears flowed.

"Good job," that same voice spoke from behind me. I didn't lift my head as I felt a hand began to pet the top of my head. "Stand up."

I didn't move from my position, my body seeming glued to the bed that the corpses of my parents laid upon. The hand that was stroking my head moved away as the person stated again, "stand up."

I didn't want to move a muscle. I felt frozen from the shock of the situation.

I let out a choked gasp when the person grabbed my face, digging their long, acrylic nails into my skin. They forced me to look up at them. Their expression held no remorse, pity, or anything at all as they stared at me unamused. "I said stand up. You will listen to me, got that?"