Hell House (Yandere x reader) (complete)

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Time had passed since your failure of a dinner. You had taken to spending a lot of time on your own. With everything being the way it was, you needed a break. You felt like you were constantly saying this—constantly telling yourself not to worry about it. It was just... hard. What were you supposed to do?

It's hard to follow your heart when your heart just wants to nap all the time. Or maybe that just makes it super easy? It feels wrong though. You were dead so you had no obligations—time didn't exist so there wasn't any waste either—yet somehow the shame in doing nothing still crept in your mind.

You sat alone in the library. You wanted to read, but at the same time, you couldn't bother to. Your thoughts (or lack thereof) were interrupted by a presence entering the room.

"Hello," Jenna said simply.

"Hi," you returned. You felt awkward. There was a lot of admiration for Jenna stored in your heart, but you also didn't really... well. Her conversations were often very driven and about the "mysteries" of the hell house. You didn't know if you had the energy to care right now.

You mentally slapped yourself. She's your friend! If she wants to talk about it, you'll talk about it. Besides, maybe she found something out?

You doubted it, but who knows?

In the silence, you looked slowly from the floor back up to her, wondering if she had anything to say. When your gaze had finally made its way up to where her face was, you gasped. She was melting—her skin was melting like goo, like cheesy pizza gone all wrong. You stood immediately, horrified. You could see beneath her flesh—right under the slime of her skin was the bones and muscles of her face. You had to help!

You rushed to her and hesitantly put your hands by her face. It looked so gross, but something compelled you to catch it. Like maybe you could fix it if you were fast enough. What was going on? How could her skin become so...liquidy? You felt like you could smell something akin to sewage—you felt sick. The second your hands met the nasty goop, her face was back to normal.

"Jenna!" you blinked a few times, still holding her face with both of your hands.

"(y/n) ..." she replied. She narrowed her eyes slightly, confused at your outburst. She wasn't able to repress the blush on her face, try as she might. Your hands were warm. She realized no one had held her in a very long time.

"I—sorry!" you said, backing away. "I think I just hallucinated. I still get those sometimes—more recently. I should talk to Quince about it..." you trailed off with a nervous chuckle as you made your way back to your seat. "Sorry about that," you repeated.

"It's okay," she flashed you a smile. "How have you been feeling?"

You were slightly taken aback at the question. Where you supposed to put thought into your response or just— "I've been fine how are you?"

She frowned, "You've seemed down."

"Perceptive," you chuckled dismissively. "I guess I'm just a bit sad that no one can get along."

"This may sound a bit harsh, but maybe...you should stop trying so hard. If we're all meant to get along, then it will happen eventually. You shouldn't have to make it your burden."

You frowned, "Maybe. I just don't feel right leaving things as they are. It makes me unhappy."

"I suppose that's the difference between you and I. You're very stubborn," she sighed.