No Way Out(A Jerome Valeska Fanfiction)

Lights Out

Hello again! I dont really have anything to say so you can just go ahead and read-

Y/l/n or L/n= your last name or last name, again, you probably already know that but yeah

It was strange...just...living on like nothing had happened. Like the things he had said and done hadn't effected you. Acting as though you didn't think of him every day. At night before you fell asleep, it wasn't a monster you saw in your closet, it was always him. Then again, you were having trouble listing any differences between a monster and the thing he had proven to be. 

You hadn't known him long, you weren't too attached. Regardless, there had been something about him...as if he could see right through you. You didn't like it, you probably hated it, but some minuscule part of you was curious as to what he saw. 

You had wanted a friendship, a firm, solid one. You had liked him from the start. He made you laugh, he was flirty and it was so ridiculous that it actually made you smile. He was fun and, in a weird way, sweet. He had mood-swings, sure, but you hadn't thought it was anything too serious....you were wrong. 

He had killed his mother. Gloated about it even. He had told you how he wanted to show you the things he did. The sadistic, horrid, cruel things he did...He had told you about them. You couldn't get his words out of your head. 

'Killed her cause I wanted to' 'It was fun' 'Screams' 'Bones cracking' 'Over and Over' 'Warm blood...cold' 'Stop' 'I'll show ya...' 

They echoed relentlessly as you tried to fall asleep. 

You hadn't forgotten what Mr. Cicero had said. Maybe this is what he meant? That the memory of him would torment you to the point where you couldn't escape. What else could it mean? Jerome was in Arkham and he wasn't getting out any time soon, if he did at all. 

You briefly considered visiting him, maybe put some of your questions and fears to rest. That idea was thrown out as soon as it had come. You didn't want to see him again. You couldn't face him. He had lied to you...lied to your face, let you comfort him, let you worry for him. You were angry. Angry at him, but mostly yourself. You hadn't seen what he was. You should have known better than to trust him. 

An idea of leaving town popped into your head but you threw that one out as well. You weren't gonna let some cackling psycho kid screw up your life. That being said...he was already taking up quite a bit of it with how often you were haunted by his memory.

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Jerome hated Arkham. It would have been fine if that slime-ball Sionis didn't practically run the joint. Jerome hated taking orders, as anyone with half a brain could probably guess. Well, what could he do? You need a friend in a place like Arkham. 

So here he was, bored out of his mind, sitting across from Sionis and other dull psychos with his head on the table as he groaned. This place was awful. 

At first he thought getting caught was worth it since he got to see your delightful reaction. But now he would rather die than be here. 

When he was bored, which was a rather common occurrence, his mind would drift to things he would do if he was out, murderers he'd commit, and people he would terrorize. 

He thought of the precautions he could have taken to not get caught...but then again...it felt good to take credit for his mother's death. But none of those were what he was thinking of now. No, now he was thinking about you. 

You were sweet, innocent, pretty, funny...and so very boring. You were nothing special, is what he concluded at first. You were too compassionate. Too nice. Too good. Too...bright. He liked the dark.