The ABCs of Yandere

"C" is for Cannibal (Act III) 🍋

"Annabelle was in the way of our relationship, sweetheart. Now, I have you all to myself. My own little snack to pick off from and love at the same time. You'll depend on me like how I depend on human flesh. I'll make you fiend for me. I'll make it so that you can't survive without me, (Y/N)."

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"(Y/N)....(Y/N)...."

As you emerge from the dark depths of unconsciousness you slowly crack your heavy eyelids open, expecting for light to flood into your sensitive (E/C) eyes but instead your pupils are met with dingy light in a musty, dimly lit room. It had been so long since the single lightbulb swinging from the dusty ceiling had been changed that the feeble golden light flickered from time to time, the room occasionally being swallowed by darkness once more.

"Oh good, you're waking up. Hello love~"

At first you couldn't process what this ominously deep voice was saying to you, your mind hazy from being abruptly knocked unconscious. Your vision blurred as it tried to adjust to your foreign surroundings, your body heavy and tense as if someone had pumped your muscles full of led. Your heart is the only hyperactive organ in your body, pounding and thumping against your ribcage as if it were trying to escape from the confinements of your torso.

"Where am I?" Were the only three words occupying your thoughts, swirling around in your mind like a hurricane as you desperately try to adjust your senses in order to find the answer. The tinnitus that had been ringing in your ears progressively began to cease after deafeningly making an appearance in your eardrums, the words that the only other male in the room had been speaking to you sounding as if you were underwater, muffling the sentences.

"It was not my intention to have you discover what we were eating so soon...but you're reaction was absolutely priceless! Fear suits your handsome face~"

You vigorously shake your head a couple of times, blinking hard as you try to eradicate the fuzziness that's clogging your senses. The minutes that took your body to fully regain consciousness felt like hours, a sharp inhale of oxygen breaking through your lips in order to deliver the air to your lungs that it so desperately craved.

It was then you noticed the position you were in along with the discomfort that plagued your wrists. Cain had taken you to his basement, or the "chopping block" as he liked to call it. The room was fairly large and even had some underground elements to it, however the dusty air combined with the single swinging lightbulb in the center of the room that hung from a meek metal chain were the least shocking details of the place that you were confined in.

It was ungodly how many bloodstains littered the cement floors and walls. It looked as if at least ten massacres had been staged in this basement, the once pale grey atmosphere now slathered and smeared in dried crimson liquid. Even the ceiling contained spatters and splashes of dried blood, permanently inducing an irony smell that made you want to vomit. Bloodstained tools, sharp and dull alike, littered a series of steel tables and chairs which were presumably used for torture and murder. Your mind spun, anxiety and panic creeping up your limbs and neck as you dizzily count the amount of hacksaws, buzzsaws, hammers, nail guns, butcher knives, and machetes that were tossed carelessly around the room, your heart now hammering at Mach speed.

But what horrified you the most wasn't the array of dangerous, used weapons. It was where you were and who was beside you. Turning your head from side to side, the scream that had been trapped in your throats erupted like a pent up volcano. Two corpses were hanging from meat hooks that had been mounted onto the wall, their bodies horrifically mutilated and gutted like pigs and cows that had been slaughtered for their delicious meat. You were in the middle of these freshly slain bodies, both gutted from chest to crotch with their intestines spilling out from their guts. Buckets had been placed underneath their naked bodies in order to catch the blood that poured from their gashed torsos, their skin pale from death and blood loss. You watch in horror as the final streams of blood were drained from the two, plopping into the overflowing rusty buckets that sat merely centimeters underneath their dangling feet.