MONOMANIA [Yandere Serial Killers X M! reader]

Guilt-ridden

Guilt upon the conscience, like rust upon iron, both defiles and consumes it, gnawing and creeping into it, as that does which at last eats out the very heart and substance of the metal.

- Robert South.

The boy stumbled back as he tried to stabilize his footing by gripping the sides of his bed frame, his hands shaking as he reminisced the contents of the box. Y/n looked down at his fingers that had reached into the package. they were coated in a layer of blood. He had touched something bloody it felt like something fleshy, like the insides of a living, or rather dead being.

'It can't be, it can't be, it can't be, it can't be.

the phrase chanted in his mind, desperately trying to deny the implication that his brain was piecing together. Adrenaline began pumping through his veins. He swallowed the lump in his throat and stirred his feet into movement, He trembly reached out to the box.

'Please let me be wrong.'

Y/n slowly removed the styrofoam pieces inside. As the styrofoam pieces began revealing the inside of the box, the h/c haired male let out an audible gasp. He felt nauseated at the sight.

Inside the box buried in the styrofoam laid a dead, or more specifically a decapitated cat. The fur of the animal was creamy white, but there were splatters of deep red stains covering ivory fur. Blood.

The h/c haired felt regurgitation rise up his throat and he lunged toward the trash can beside his desk to unwillingly discard the contents of his stomach.

Y/n wiped the palm of his hand against his mouth to get rid of the leftover residue dwelling on his lips and let out a groan as he leaned against the garbage can. The male shakily got up from his kneeling position and sluggishly moved towards the bathroom that occupied the room next to his. The male successfully got to the washroom and turned on the tab to let water run to the drain, he opened the drawer under the sink to take out a plastic glass, he knew his mom often put plastic glasses in the bathroom and internally thanked his mother for the habit. He filled the cup and greedily began gulping down the tap water to rehydrate his burning throat. He put the cup down and turned off the tab.

The boy looked into the mirror at his reflection and took a deep breath forcefully composing himself. Y/n hesitantly moved towards his chambers, he stepped into his threshold and warily stared at the dreadful box.

'Who would do something like that?' Y/n narrowed his eyes as he remembered something. a dark shadow that consumed Runswick, a crucial fact he had forgotten. The boy shifted his head to look at his feet. 'How could I forget?' sentences formed in his head, lining up on a figurative timeline to be analyzed by the boy.

'A serial killer has been going around in town, for around 3 years now.' He narrowed his eyes as a revelation shot through his mind. 'The lead detective that was working on the case, got murdered.' His heart skipped a beat. 'Sheriff Whitelock asked me to return to my position as lead detective.' He began lightly hyperventilating as he glanced at the package which began looking more and more sinister the more he looked at it.

'I agreed to do so.'

Y/n stormed out of his room and almost tripped down the stairs into the living space. He saw his mother sitting at the table with a single lamp near her face with a case folder, reading it intensely, but as soon as she heard her son's frantic footsteps she looked up without a word.

The boy felt relief wash over him as he saw the woman was unharmed. "Mom. you haven't noticed anything weird, or out of place today, right?" He breathlessly questioned to which his mother raised a brow in confusion "Um...No? Should I have?" The boy hurriedly shook his head "No not at all!- I just..." Before he could continue his rambling his mother stood up and stretched her limbs.