𝖍𝖝𝖍 𝖔𝖓𝖊𝖘𝖍𝖔𝖙𝖘

Forbidden

Top ???

Bottom ???

Summary: You've learned so many things since Feitan took you. If there was a test, you would pass with flying colors--red. Especially red.

Author: after-witch (on tumblr)

Notes: yandere, kidnapped reader, violence, gore, murder, Stockholm Syndrome 

____________

You've learned so many things since Feitan took you. If there was a test, you would pass with flying colors--red. Especially red.

You've learned that you can scream so loud it makes your throat blistered and scratchy. It takes endless cups of tea and mushy food for days before it starts to feel better. In the meantime, you force yourself to keep your screams internal. Not that you scream like that, anymore. Not for ages.

You've learned that there are more ways to die, horrible ways to die, than you'd ever imagined before. Oh, you knew about people being shot or stabbed, even strangled or drowned. And you'd seen your share of creative kills in horror movies, cartoonish traps and set-ups that had first-night audiences roaring.

But you'd never known about the real deaths.

About things like being bled to death through hundreds of small, deep cuts that get reopened with another slice whenever the body attempts to clot them; or someone's fingers and toes being sliced off and stuffed into their own mouth until they choke to death, throat clenching their own fingernails; and the less that is said about the creativity that comes with pliers, the better.

You've learned that the human body can withstand pure agony and still not come close to dying. People can be missing limbs and eyes and tongues (the last to go, after he's gotten what he needs) and still be alive, writhing, moaning in agony that has no relief until he grants it. And it's never a mercy.

And you've learned that actual gore and death is far different from what they show on screen. Your favorite horror movies, your favorite novels, nothing could compare to the actual reality of seeing it unfold in front of your eyes. Nothing could compare to it being inches away from you...

Sometimes you wonder: is that why he took you? Your love of horror? Because every night you huddled under your blanket on the couch, popcorn bowl at hand, watching actresses on screen being eviscerated in countless creative ways? Because your bookshelf was piled high with horror novels and comics, not just the big names and popular authors, but obscure, sometimes heavily censored literature--stories so heavy on gore and taboo that you sometimes hid them before having company over? Because your search history was filled with curious, morbid questions, questions you would never dare voice out loud?

But you never hurt anyone. Not for real.

In your head, maybe, but that's what fantasies are for, aren't they?

You suppose it doesn't matter why he took you. What matters is that you'll never be able to leave him. Not because he's careful about locking the doors--and you know from experience that if they aren't locked, that it's a test and you'd better fucking pass it. Not just because he's stronger and smarter than you, and he's let you know that if you were ever to escape (unlikely) that he would hunt you down to the ends of the earth to make sure you were back in his reach.

No, you'll never be able to leave him because of one simple fact: he's made you into a murderer. You could never live the life of a free person, again. You'd always be looking over your shoulder, waiting for the flashing lights, waiting for pounding on your door and handcuffs around your wrists.