Infectious Submission (M. Yandere x Fem. Reader)

The Ugly Interrogation

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

A splitting pain seared through his head. It felt as though the sensation was burning through his skull. His throat felt parched, and an awful taste coated the inside of his mouth. Lips dry, he wet them with his tongue, which was an immediate mistake. The awful taste grew stronger, and he gagged. He tried to spit it out, but his saliva was hard to form until he finally managed to expel a ball of it. Almost, he made the error of licking his lips again.

Avoiding that, he tried to remember what had happened. He had been about to leave Delain and start up a practice in a safer location, so why was his back leaned up against something hard? Why was his bottom on something that felt like the same surface against his back? The vet furrowed his brows as images of what had happened trickled into his mind. As they crept in, his eyes widened in horror. That was all it took for the memories to flood his brain.

Nearly, he vomited more when he recalled the contents of that ball of flesh. He forced himself to swallow even if his throat was somewhat scratchy. Right now, he needed to get out of wherever he was. That thing ... that monster was probably going to come back. (F/n) (L/n) most likely was dead, and he yelled at himself for not caring too much about her recovery at the time. If he had spent more time on treating her, she might be alive, and he would be on his way out of Delain; he might even have been settled in his new home!

Wherever he was, there was no clock, and there were no windows, but there was a door. He had to escape. Most likely, he would be on the run for awhile, but he didn't care; he just wanted to live. His chances of survival were slim, but (L/n) and Calamiss had made it out of Cankerfell ... Still, their luck might not extend to him.

Heart beating faster, he examined his surroundings further to try and find a way out of the room. He already knew that the door was locked. There was no way that the creature would leave it open for him to waltz out of unless the creature ... The vet gulped; the creature was known for its sadistic treatment of his victims. His head hurt all the more at the negative possibilities of his future, and he rubbed his temples to try and ease the headache.

Instantly, he moved his hands away from his face. His hands ... They were ... They were free! No way, he was going to let that go. Any advantage he had, he would utilize so that he could live. Slowly, he stood up from his seat, which he found to be an old porcelain toilet. A disgusted scowl met his face. Dirt, at least he hoped it was dirt, was encrusted on the toilet, and pieces of the toilet were chipped off.

Looking around the rest of the bathroom, he noticed that the sink was in a similar position, and the mirror had pieces of glass missing from it. Those absent sections weren't on the floor, which he was grateful for. He did note the various small cuts on his arms and legs from when it had thrown him into the broken glass at his office. Most definitely, he would need to disinfect his wounds if he made it out of his present predicament alive.

His parched throat, though, caused his eyes to linger on the rusty sink faucet. Never would he drink from such a thing under normal circumstances, but he was thirsty. He figured that he must've been out for several hours if not more. There also was the fact that he felt a cakey covering on his face. Again, his memories rammed into him, and he visibly winced. The vet's right hand rose to the back of his head and rubbed the area. Vomit and bile were on his face. At least, it was his own, and that would explain the awful taste on his lips.