Male Yandere Oneshots

Guilt

"Oh God..."

          It almost hurt to speak; your voice was so hoarse that pain lingered at the end of your words. However, that pain was manageable compared to the fear coursing through your body. Your heart sank to your stomach at the sight before you. The sight of a girl; a lifeless and bloody mess.

          Your eyes couldn't help but scan over her entire figure. Her chest had been ripped open. Bones, of what you could only assume to be her ribcage, were popping out from under her dangling skin, pieces broken and torn. Her stomach didn't give a better sight. The amount of blood and intensities revealed to the plain eye was sickening. You couldn't even tell which organ went where, as it looked like whatever psychopath did this to the poor girl, had fun ripping out everything and leaving it as a mess.

          The shock of the dead body passed and when it did, you became sick in seconds. Your body didn't last. Your knees buckled and hit the ground below you. The taste of your stomach acid disgusted you. Everything you ate that day was on the ground below you, chunks pouring out from your mouth while tears dripped down your cheeks. It was disgusting. Not to mention disrespectful to the corpse in front of you that already suffered far too much to have your vomit at its feet. "I'm sorry.." You choked out.

          That's when your senses gradually returned. At least enough to finally feel the harsh pavement that you've been digging your palms and knees into, and to finally take note of the stench you'd been inhaling. The stench of a dead body. You pushed yourself off the ground and stumbled onto your feet. Any closer than that and you were sure you'd puke out everything left in your stomach, if there was even anything left.

          "I'm on my way-" A voice suddenly drew in. "I'll dispose of the body right now."

          Your mind went blank. There was no more time left to sit around sicken, now when that voice could very well belong to the monster who did this. Adrenaline surged through your veins as you rushed out of the alleyway from which you had just come. The sound of your panicked footsteps echoed around you, making you all but quiet. The cracking of rocks beneath your shoes was flinch-worthy, each little sound only pointing out your presence. Yet, there had to be someone nearby—anyone--who could help you. The urge to scream for help sat in the back of your mind, but that would only make the situation worse for yourself I that unknown man was able to hear it.

          The sidewalk you ran down belonged to such an empty road. No cars were in sight or any sound that let you know someone was nearby. Where were you? Never before had you seen a road so silent. It could have been the bubbling anxiety that overcame you, stopping you from jogging. The lack of air tightened your lungs. "H...Ha.." You struggled to breathe. The adrenaline was dying, leaving behind only dread. How unfit you felt at that moment was ridiculous. Your legs staggered with each forward step until they buckled and propelled you onto your knees. With hands pressed against the chilly concrete, you shuffled yourself onwards, inch by agonizing inch.

          "H..help..." You choked out. If this wasn't a wake-up call to work on your stamina, then you didn't know what was. Everything hurt and your lungs felt on the verge of a collapse. That's when your hands reached forward and touched the silk of clothing. When you looked up, a handsome man was looking down at you. His silver-white hair glowed radiantly under the dark shine of the moon and the brightness of the light post. He was frowning at you and for a moment, you thought you recognized him.

          "Mason?"

          Suddenly there was pressure on your throat. You definitely couldn't breathe now, as Mason's boot pressed down on your throat, cutting off your oxygen. You clawed at his ankle, struggling to tear him off from you. He was putting all his weight down on you and you could only thrash. Your eyes met his. They were drained of any emotion, looking more dead than alive as he stared down at your purpling face.

          You tried to beg, "Pl...ease"

          Mason didn't respond to your plea. He stood over you. Blood was on his tee shirt, as well as bits of it staining the jeans he had on. He had bits of it all over, especially his hands which looked like he had just dripped them in a bucket of red paint. Considering the body you had just stumbled across, he was the one who ripped open the poor girl's chest and pulled out all her intestines. He had taken out nearly all her important organs and now you wondered if he would do the same for you.

          A sickening crunch of your neck silenced the air around you after his boot shoved into your throat. Your bones had broken. The lights around you flickered softly, creating strange shadows that danced on the walls. It was unsettling, and you felt a sudden chill run down your spine. You tried to turn your head to see Mason, but it felt like a heavy weight was pressing down on your neck, stopping you from moving.

          You could sense Mason was close, his footsteps barely making a sound as he walked right in front of you. You could see his lips moving, but no sound reached your ears. It was as if a thick wall separated you from him. You strained to catch what he was saying, but it was just out of reach, like trying to grasp smoke with your hands.

          Mason's golden eyes locked onto your face, but instead of warmth, they still felt cold and unreadable. You felt a mix of confusion and fear as you tried to figure out what was happening. His mouth formed words that danced in your mind, but you struggled to understand them at first. You could tell he was trying to communicate something important, but the flickering lights and the silence around you made it hard to focus.

          The more you tried to listen, the more lost you felt. You wanted to reply, to shout out that you couldn't hear him, but the words got stuck in your throat. It was an odd feeling, being so close to someone yet feeling so far away. You wished that the silence would break, that the noise would return, and that maybe then you would understand what Mason was trying to tell you.

          "I'm sorry," was all you managed to read from his lips. The words hung in the air between you, heavy and full of meaning. Your heart raced as you tried to process what was happening. You looked up at Mason, your mind swirling with confusion and fear.

          Suddenly, your vision began to fade. It started as a dark veil creeping in from the edges, slowly engulfing every familiar shape around you. You felt a cold chill running down your spine.

          Just before everything went completely black, you caught a glimpse of something glinting in the dim light. It was a knife, and it was being pulled out of Mason's pocket. The metal caught your eye, shining ominously, and you realized that this was a moment you would never forget. Panic surged through you as you tried to comprehend the situation. Everything else around you faded away, leaving only the terrifying image of that knife and the haunting words of regret still echoing in your mind.

          Death had overcame you before Mason got to begin. The same knife was tearing through your chest and slicing your flesh. From the collarbones to the stomach, you were ripped apart by his bare hands. There was no pain, thankfully. You were far too gone by that point.

It was the end for you.

But hey, at least he was sorry?