Male Yandere Oneshots

Classmate

          In one of the classrooms, all isolated was a student. The class had been vacant after the early dismissal and yet he remained implanted at his desk, staring with such intensity at the spot you had been sitting at just before the bell.

          In this quaint little town of yours, the concept of stalking seemed almost insignificant. The streets were quite peaceful and calm, as residents kept a watchful eye on one another in their tight-knit community. It was a place where neighbors knew each other's names and looked out for each other's well-being. Yet, behind this facade of safety, there was a secret lurking in the shadows. Unknown to everyone, a student had fallen head over heels in love with you, their feelings hidden beneath layers of uncertainty and yearning.

          His name was Xavier. You first met him during a school assembly a month ago when you asked him to move his bookbag so you could take a seat. If it had been anyone else, he likely would have denied your request, and you would have been fortunate to even get a refusal. However, without saying a word, he took an interest in you and moved his bag out of the way. If only you had known then how dangerous that seemingly small request would be.

          Now he was watching you no matter where you went, home, shopping, or out with friends. His world revolved around your every aching breath. It was all perfect in his sick twisted world.

          Until a friend of yours decided to mess that up--by confessing.

          Xavier had been up at the time, staring from the window of the classroom to watch as you waited for your car ride home like always. In his hand was a machinal pencil. He swirled it around with his fingertips, twirling and moving it along his hand with unfocused persession. He was too focused on watching you rather than taking notice of anything he was doing himself, his calculating blue eyes glued onto your frame below as you stood there on your phone, blissfully unaware.

__________________

          You were scrolling through YouTube at the same time. Your eyes glued on the bright screen as you stood slouched over it, tired if not exhausted from your long day at school. You were waiting for your mom to come pick you up. Usually, you took the bus, but Mom wanted to take you shopping for some more after school, so it was only easier to just pick you up on the way to the store. As you stood there waiting for her to come, a friend of yours appeared.

          He was a sweet boy, a dear friend of yours named Argo. Usually, the two of you hung out after school, but since you were going out, you would have to spend time with him another day. He grinned his crooked goofy grin at you,

          "Whatcha lookin' at Dummy," he questioned as he peeked his head over your phone.

          You rolled your eyes playfully and shoved his head away with a swift-yet gentle, movement of your elbow. "Videos. I'm bored as hell." You sighed, turning off your device to look at him, lips pouting forward.

          You and Argo chatted happily, sharing smiles and laughter for what felt like just a few moments before your mom arrived. Just as you were about to leave, Argo handed you a note, urging you not to open it until you got home that night. You quickly promised him as you got into the car, tucking the note into your jacket pocket. You waved goodbye to Argo, still smiling, until your mother drove away and left him standing on the sidewalk.

          It was unfortunate that you missed the boy's gaze lingering above, peering intently from the classroom windows. The sharp crack of his pencil splintering against the unforgiving, cold floor echoed in the silence, and he felt a surge of anger rise within him. His delicate features twisted in a scowl, nostrils flaring as fury flickered in his holding a haunting darkness inside. He lingered for a moment, as if wrestling with his emotions, before turning away from the windows and retreating into the shadows, the weight of his unspoken turmoil heavy upon him.

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3:00 AM

          That morning would be a nightmare for poor Argo.

          Once he had come home from school, he and his family had a nice dinner as always, enjoying each other's company before separating to bed. They all didn't know an uninvited visitor was hiding within their home, specifically under Argo's bed. As soon as the lights turned off, the darkened figure crawled from under his hiding spot.

          He snuck onto the boy's bed and held him down before Argo could even scream. The poor friend of yours thrashed and muffled out screams behind Xavier's hand, fighting with the stronger man. Xavier shoved Argo's head down onto the bed, pressing the palm of his hand against Argo's nose to block breathing as he reached for one of the pillows.

          He covered the male's face with the pillow, his knee holding it down in place as the person under him seemed to shriek and move like crazy to try and throw Xavier off him, "MMFF! MOM!" His screams were anguishing, and no one was able to hear him.

          Only Xavier could hear, and he only seemed to enjoy the struggle. His hands now holding a small dagger. He switched his position, allowing Argo to breathe for just a second. The pillow still covered his face however so he was unable to see, as if he could anyway with the gloaming of his bedroom. He would feel pain.

          Xavier's dagger slid over Argo's chest, cutting through the pajamas' shirt and engraving it into the skin beneath. Argo was still crying and screaming for help, but Xavier's left hand was over his mouth rather than the pillow. Xavier favored the plan of keeping his victims alive, enjoying watching them permanently traumatized by his actions.

          With a barbaric, vigorous motion, he slid the blade over the skin to assemble bloodied letters. He labored to make it look rather natural, but in the end, just allowed it to stay messy.

" S T A Y A W A Y "

          It was a warning. Argo would know what it meant if he didn't bleed out to death by morning. He would stay away from you. Xavier's bloody gloves and soaked shirt would reflect his obsession, how far he was willing to go just to keep you in his sight. One day, you would thank him. Throw yourself in his arms and love him just like he envisioned. It was only a matter of time before you would be his for the rest of eternity, and he wasn't going to let Argo get in the way of that. If this warning didn't convince him, he would only come back for more.

          Argo seemed drained by all his struggling and wailing. Xavier marveled at the work of his carving before he slowly got off the bed, his breath fastening at the pungent fragrance of blood now emitted in the air. His knife was smeared crimson, which he casually wiped pristine with the help of Argo's bedsheets. The weak little sobs from Argo let Xavier know he was still alive.

          Being the 'caring' man, Xavier knocked loudly on the wall of Argo's parents' bedroom. When the sound of activity commenced, Xavier quickly slid out from the window and jogged off before he could be detected by any cameras or neighbors. He wasn't even a mile away before he heard the holler of a woman, Argo's mother-screaming in terror at the condition of her son. She didn't know how lucky he was, just to get a warning...

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          As the days went by after that fateful night, Argo eventually found himself in the hospital for nearly two weeks, requiring stitches due to the significant blood loss he had endured in such a brief period.

          You were filled with dread when you heard the news. Desperately, you tried to reach out to his parents for any updates on how he was doing, but there was no response. After waiting and pleading to talk to him, you finally learned that he never wanted to see you again. This shattered you. You had never cried so much in your life. No one explained what went wrong, leaving you without any understanding or opportunity to comprehend why you were being pushed away. You had never felt so broken before then. Argo was your best friend, the one person you could talk to. He suddenly got attacked and now you would never get to see him again? What was this cruel reality?

          While you lay curled up in a ball on your bed, tears streaming down your face, the same note resting on your desk. Scribbled on the delicate paper were words straight from Argo himself,

"I love you."