Terrorforming || Yandere!Harem X F!Reader

Life Imitates Art

You had terrible dreams that night. Ones of spectral figures, hell fire, raging rivers... You ended up waking up several times throughout the night. Still, you tried to look on the bright side. At least the ghost story Louise told you rid you of your nightmares of Poppy.

And you and Louise were much closer after that. At breakfast the next morning, she even offered to pull double-duty and be your buddy as well as Chaeyoung's. "Us Temperate girls need to stick together," she told you, leaving no room for argument.

In this place, the only sense of security you had was in routine. Service, breakfast, activity, lunch, activity, dinner, bed. At the same time, though, it was tortuously boring.

The camp counselors treated you like children that needed to be hand-held through every task. "Find something to do or I'll give you something to do," one warned after you complained you lost interest in art after the first two hours.

You looked around the room to see if any of the other campers were on your side, but they were all dutifully creating something in one medium or another. So you went digging around in the camp storeroom.

That's where you found it. A television! Granted, it was old and dusty and would be impossible to move without the AV cart it sat on, but a TV nonetheless! You dragged the trolley out of the closet, cords trailing behind it.

"What do you think you're doing with that?" The same counselor that gave you a hard time before asked, hands on her hips.

"You said to find something to do! I found it!"

"Your parents did not send you to camp for you to watch TV," she lectured, wagging a forefinger at you.

"C'mon! Pleeease? Please, please, please!" If she was going to treat you like a little kid, you might get somewhere by acting like one.

"Let her have it," Elizabeth sighed from not far off.

"Elizabeth, your mother-"

"Didn't throw it out when she had the chance. We might as well get some use out of it. Plus, it doesn't get any channels, so she's limited to what VHS tapes we have here," she interjected before her colleague could finish. "Let her have it."

That was a little disheartening, but you would take what you could get. You started digging through an old box of cassette tapes -luckily it was labelled- and felt your heart start to sink further. It was mostly a lot of recorded sermons and children's films. Still, you managed to find a gem that fit right into art time.

Bob Ross: Getting Started with Oil Colors.

Hell yeah! The sleeve kept the majority of the dust off of it and the tape was already rewound, so all you had to do was grab your oil paints and a canvas before slipping the tape into the slot.

As you were priming your canvas with a thin layer of Magic White, just like Bob told you, a girl came up to you.

She had a graceful look to her, like a swan. Her blonde hair was up in a big bun high atop her head, secured with a pastel pink scrunchy. She had eyes brown as chestnuts. Her petticoat was pink instead of white, and she had a folded pink ribbon pinned to the edge of her skirt. For breast cancer awareness or just for decoration?

"Hey, do you mind if I watch with you?" She asked. "I've always heard about Bob Ross, but I've never actually seen him in action."

"Sure! I'm Y/N," you answered, wiping your sweaty palms off on your skirt.

She gave you a little smile as she set down her easel. "My name is Salome. It's nice to meet you."

...

The two of you chit-chatted while you painted happy little trees. Salome was in Hope. She'd very nearly lost her faith after her mom passed away to cancer. But generation after generation of women in her family spent their summers at Camp Bethel, so she still came. This was her last year.

When you said you were in Temperance, it gave her pause.

"You don't seem the type," she muttered as if deep in thought.

"What type?" You asked curiously. All the camp regulars seemed to have these preconceived notions of what Temperate girls were like.

That seemed to startle her, shake her from her trance. "Temperance is kind of the odd one out. You seem normal, though. We can be friends, if you like." That last part came out in a whisper. She was blushing. A little color looked good on her. It made her look more human and less like a toy ballerina.

"Yeah, I'd like that," you replied with a smile.

"Y/N," Louise called and waved from the other side of the room. Chaeyoung and Elizabeth stood by her. It was almost time for lunch. The camp counselors would have everyone start picking things up soon.

"I'll look for you during the next activity," you told her in a rush.

"Okay, see you after lunch!" Salome laughed.

"Y/N!" Louise called more urgently. You scooped up everything -your oil paints, your brushes, your paint thinner, and your still-wet canvas- in your arms and dashed away from your newfound friend.

"What? What is it?" You asked her, feeling frazzled.

That's when she held up her sketchbook. Your jaw dropped and your eyes went wide.

The page was covered with sketches of you. Some big and some small. Some busts and some full-bodies. All were incredibly detailed, right down to the creases in your face. It was a little creepy but also very flattering.

"Louise, these are amazing!" You cheered. You put down your armload on a nearby table and reached out to take the sketchbook. With a bright smile, she freely gave it to you to examine more closely. "You have a real talent for this!"

"You think so? I did the best I could, but you kept moving around," she said, face flushing at the compliment.

"Uh, I have a hard time holding still unless I'm focusing all my energy on it," you laughed, rubbing the back of your head awkwardly.

Chaeyoung snorted derisively, crossing her arms and looking out one of the windows. But Louise nodded sympathetically, as if that was completely normal and not at all weird. "I was wondering if you would model for me next activity time. Then maybe I can draw something better, something worthy of color."

You couldn't imagine anything better than what she already showed you. As excited as you were to see more of her work, you had to refuse, "I can't during the next activity. I made plans with a new friend. I can do it tomorrow, though."

Something like anxiety or panic passed over her face, like a firm breeze bringing in a storm. But it was here one moment and gone the next. Before you could say anything about it, she calmly replied, "That's fine. Who's your new friend?"

"Salome in Hope," you chirped. Your eyes were just playing tricks on you, but there was that look again. "Something wrong?"

"No, nothing," she said completely calmly. You decided to let it go. "Maybe tonight before lights out?"

"Of course! Now..." You looked to Elizabeth. "What's for lunch?"