Life In Misery | fan!yandere x reader

2/22/17 [🍋]

NSFW chapter honestly, not only the lemon at the end. Oops, did i say a lemon at the end? I wanted it to be a surprise... Oh well, :]

But seriously beware. It's actually not noncon, just a little deviant..

-

The smell was gone, and replaced by vanilla lavender carpet powder. But you really couldn't get the image of the corpse laying there out of your mind. The wall too was fixed easily, was just cheap drywall. However, In addition to the forever stained carpet, the blotch of new white paint against the old walls stood out like a sore thumb.

You didn't know much about about chemistry, medicine included, but apparently He knew just enough to make vats of this liquid that would dissolve small body parts. He had on that hazmat suit and was chopping up the body, taking a lighter and some fluid outside as well.

From the window you watched him burn the clothes in a small fire, overturn the soil, then plant something small over it. The little pails full of this liquid were pushed to the side of the home until you couldn't see him anymore.

The rest of her looked like doll pieces. A torso. The calf, knees. he had stuffed them into a plastic bag and before you, smashed them to pieces with a different tool. Now this one had the shape more akin to a meat grinder, it was heavier and had a shorter handle compared to the sledge. If you didn't think his tools could scare you anymore, you were proved wrong today.

What was left was like a soup. He double bagged the human stew and tied it up, preparing to dispose of it. He looked still mad when he was smashing the shit of of the bag, and all you could do is watch while standing with your crutches.

Fortunately you're healing quickly, and well too, but the outcome of this arrangement was up to him. You were beginning to really be in touch with reality, and you knew the meds were too high of a dose to be necessary by any means. He hasn't switched you off of narcotics yet, and you take them every other day, hiding the ones you don't want into the pillow.

Michael stumbled into the room, suitless.

He dropped onto the bed in a manner of falling out of the air, and laid there unmoving.

" Touch me again, please..., please. " Hesitantly you reached your hand around and began touching his face; where his cheekbones smoothed inward, his mouth, the barely-there mustache. He closed his eyes and leaned to you, still smelling like various chemicals.

The shower in the house had a seat in it, which you couldn't tell if it was for you or someone else. But the coincidence was alarming in itself. For the first time you were bathing yourself again, as your caretaker had passed out after having his hair played with and little face kissed and caressed. Typical.

Your holygrails fortunately survived when he got your luggage, and he just kept stocking them up it seems. 3 of your favorite deodorants, 2 of your favorite shampoo, pomade - you assume this is his, or that you started using it before the crash. Little things like that escaped you. Either way...

The makeup you like (though he could've confused you for someone who didn't need to wear it often at all, and thus didn't buy much) and random trinkets also survived, but you weren't preoccupied with those presently.

You grabbed bodywash, baby oil, deodorant, a washcloth, pumice stone and some face soap and lined them up in order on the cabnit. The knob on the shower was weird, it was like it was installed from the 70's or something, because it only had 3 settings; Hot, lukewarm, and cold. The lukewarm was so tepid it didn't feel like you could wash anything with it. So hot it was.
The entire bathroom fogged up with the hot, but it wasn't scalding fortunately.