Infectious Crimson (M. Yandere x Fem. Reader)

The Desperation

A/N: As usual, I would recommend putting the video on loop.

     

Moonlight glinted off of the blade of the sword, which now rested on her lap. She didn't care that crimson now decorated her hands, dark blue skirt and dark blue cloak. Blood could be washed out. Rather, her mind was focused on the scene before her. There was a large pool of blood by where she had found his sword, and her eyes weakly followed the trail of dark crimson leading off into the more northern part of the woods.

Tears formed at the corners of her eyes. There was just so much blood. Her mind still couldn't quite process it all, and she barely noticed the coolness of the blade's metal. Behind her, there were steps, more than one pair, but she didn't peer back. She couldn't withdraw her eyes away from it all; she just continued to stare.

(F/n)'s hands gripped the handle of the sword more, and she felt the leather press into her skin. Emorie didn't have his sword with him, and she didn't know if a human could survive such blood loss. She was no doctor, and she never studied their trade, so she hoped that maybe a human could live even after losing so much blood. Her eyes searched the scene for any clue that he might still be breathing.

Earlier, Emorie had mentioned that he was going to hunt some more for the day, but she didn't find the snare he had made or any evidence that he had been hunting at all. There only was his sword and the ... blood. A hand rested on her right shoulder. She didn't glance back, but she heard her father say, "Jacob told his father that a bear had attacked Hester and him. Emorie had been in the area and was fighting it off." Her ears listened, but her mind didn't accept where the story was going. "He had told them to get help while he held it back. Jacob had offered to help, but Emorie sent them away. Seeing this ..."

Her father continued talking, but her ears no longer took in anymore words at the moment. Instead, her mind tried to convince her that Emorie had killed the bear and that he was for some reason dragging it off to another location. The blood before her was from the bear, not him. Perhaps, he already was back in Levonshire and wondering why she wasn't there and why others in the village had left too, but she knew that train of thought was too questionable. If Emorie was dragging a bear anywhere, it would be back to the village.

"We're going after the animal. See if we can find him, or ..." Anselm trailed off, deciding it better not to suggest anything more, especially in front of (f/n) (l/n). (D/n) gave him a firm nod. Anselm nodded back and ran off with his son, Bennett Hayward and a few other men from the village. Their feet carried them northward, and soon the sound of their steps faded off into the night.

"(F/n)," her father started, crouching beside her, "you should get up." His tone was soft and gentle. He held out his hand for her to take, but she shook her head. "You're getting your skirt soaked. It's going to be ruined completely." Again, she shook her head. "(F/n), you should ..."

"He might not be dead," she said very quietly and cut him off. Her father couldn't hear what she had said because of the softness of her voice. More silent tears fell down her cheeks. Before he could ask what she had mentioned, she cut him off again, "He might not be dead." Now, he could hear her, and her tone broke his heart due to the distress in it.

"(F/n) ..."

"No!" She hadn't meant to shout, but the word just came out that way. Her eyes finally met her father's, and she barely could stand the pity in them. His look only made her cry more. (F/n) clutched the blade to her chest, which stained her light blue shirt. "His body isn't here!" she found herself yelling again. Hopefully, she wasn't attracting the bear over to them if it was in a different direction from where the others had gone off to. Then again, she couldn't help herself; her mind was holding onto what hope it could.