ℍ𝕦𝕤𝕜 [yandere x reader]

I

It is morning again.

A few, thin strips of sun pierce from tiny gaps in your boarded up window. Not enough to light up the small room, however- so your hand goes up and down, patting the ground around your glorified bed on the floor in search for the flashlight you carry, or the small book of matches you found the other day.

Anything, as long as it gave you sight.

Your eyes remained locked on the window as you fumbled about even faster, desperation and fear making you see things in the darkness.

"Come on, Jesus Christ!" You cursed, finally finding the flashlight but having trouble finding the switch. Tossing it about in your clammy palms, you turned it on with the speed of a jack rabbit and waved it around the room as if it was a sword, illuminating and analyzing every corner of the small space, the spindly and lanky creatures you saw previously, now gone.

A sigh of relief and slight embarrassment escaped your throat and made you shiver. Or was it the hunger? Sudden feelings of famine clawed at your stomach, urging you up to your feet. It had been two days since you had eaten, anymore time added to that, and you'd grow too exhausted to do anything.

A couple of stretches and a quick yawn allowed you enough spite to grab your bag and get ready to go. Swinging the bag over your shoulders, you used the key in your pocket to undo the master lock, and gently crack the door open.

Nothing but the smell of rot.

You crept out, and put the lock on the outside of the door, now. You had chosen the perfect little shed to reside in. Not big enough to attract attention, not small enough to be of no protection. The house that shared the yard of your little fort sometimes brought other survivors by, but you always kept your distance, and they never seemed interested enough in staying, or searching the shed. Especially not ever since you started stacking bodies near it. The piles of the dead made the place look- and certainly smell- a lot more unappealing. It kept the living, and the dead, far enough away for you to be secure. If those things COULD smell flesh, they definitely couldn't smell you over that.

You traded the key in your hand for your pocket knife, grabbed the longboard leaning against your shed, then headed for the driveway. There wasn't anything left around here, in the emptier back roads. You, and other traveling humans, had cleared it all out. Nothing but ghosts and dust anymore. You had never seen any signs of anyone bunkering down out there, either. If anyone was living in the woods surrounding the area, you never planned to cross paths. Woods are dark, and too full of hiding spots for the horrors of the times.

Since the woods were off limits, and you certainly weren't going to find protein walking around the desolate nowhere, you would have to travel into the city.

City, of course, used lightly. It was more-so a condensed town with a few taller buildings halfway done in the outer circle. The beginning of new developments, so they said. You had actually lived in the area before everything changed, in an apartment building. As soon as hell started to break loose, however, you, and many of your neighbors, took off. The news spilled word of a cannibalistic disease- nobody trusted anyone. Nobody wanted to be couped up with potential monsters.

Looters and panicked citizens ravaged all the nearby convenience stores and shops, taking anything of value. Especially food. You doubted that there'd be much left, but if anything was there, you'd be happy. There was no room for being picky, now.

Your destination was about a mile and a half away, and would take you around 20 minutes to get there, at most, while on the board. You could get there even quicker in a car or a vehicle of sorts, but you didn't trust them. So much sound, attention, and maintenance. Using such an easily portable board was enough, and plenty safer. If need be, you could hop into the ditches along the road and stay out of sight.