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(Flashback)
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❞ A doll. They have me sitting a doll. ❞
Y/N muttered, putting on her bonnet as the object's shiny eyes peered at the brown woman."Gang I'm not kissing that shit." She mumbled, reading the list as she showed Malcolm, the grocery boy. The list had many rules, though the one rule she refused was to kiss him goodnight.
"I have no clue how this all works, but I'd advise you do as the list asks. I'm a little jumpy when it comes to these things." He hummed, his accent lacing his words which were dipped in concern.
"Yeah, ight." She muttered, there was no way in hell YOU, Y/N L/N, were going to kiss that creepy ass doll. She took on this job, wanting to make some cash for college as the woman was new to the area.
She was offered the job by the boy's lovely elder parents, which she kindly accepted. When she arrived at the large mansion, she was on edge, considering the horrible vibe she got upon arriving.
She wasn't too surprised, knowing the origin behind the land. How their child died on his 8th birthday, along with his friend Emily Cribbs. She didn't think the couple would actually go this far with the doll. But they hired her.
Her brown skin and shiny brown eyes were a factor that drew most to her, and her radiant personality as well, which was also the reason she was having ex problems, along with attracting their kind grocery boy Malcolm.
The woman sighed, staring at the doll.
"I'm not kissing you." She spoke tk the object , a certainty to her voice. This is what her thought process was before Malcolm was stabbed and killed, along with her ex as she was chased through the walls of the mansion upon finding out the doll was an entire man.
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"Kiss." The man's voice said through the mask, Y/N swallowing saliva in slight nervousness."I'm not kissing you, Brahms. It's punishment. You know, for killing two people and scaring me half to death." She spoke, tucking the man in.
Why the hell is she in this situation, tucking a man taller and bigger than her into a bed. Y/N did have to admit, he was attractive, despite being unable to see his face. The mask he wore, beat and no longer bloody as she had cleaned it. His smooth and defined upper body protruded from the top he wore.
She could only see his big brown eyes, his face seemingly smooth under the mask as his curly brown hair framed his "face" nicely. Was she really checking him out? The woman sighed, beginning to walk away before he grabbed her wrist.
She quickly turned around, locking eyes with the cold man as his large hand refused to let go.
