Bob Velseb x Reader "𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓭𝓮𝓿𝓲𝓵𝓼' 𝓸𝓾𝓽 𝓽𝓸𝓷𝓲𝓰𝓱𝓽 "

𝓗 𝓪 𝓿 𝓮 𝓐 𝓣 𝓪 𝓼 𝓽 𝓮

A/N: ⚠️TW⚠️: MENTIONS/IMPLICATIONS OF: Kidnapping, murder, cannibalism, torture, manipulation, possessiveness, blood, gore, inflicting pain, Stockholm syndrome, Lima syndrome, drug/alcohol use, mature themes, disturbing content, etc.

Foreshadowing??? I don't know what you mean-
Anyways!-
Sorry for the long wait on this chapter, had some issues with access to Wi-Fi I'm trying to work with, but I hope you all enjoy <3
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I saw it in ya', (Y/N). Ya' love that rush jus' as much as I do."

His use of your name laced in that southern tone you've come to associate with only him made a shiver crawl up your spine, pulling you out of the spiral you'd found yourself in and back into the situation at hand.
You let go of the blade, releasing your grip off of the weapon and drawing back into the metaphorical bubble you had built around yourself in that moment. The gruesome scene strewn about the floor in front of you fades into the backdrop of your vision, your focus shifting to your trembling hands held out before everything else in your sight.

Your hands...they had done this. Not alone, but they had sure been just as capable.

Your attention is quickly broken by the sight of a red, gloved hand reaching out to retrieve the bloodstained knife, which lets out a sickening 'squelch' at its withdrawal from the lifeless flesh before you. It sounded almost reluctant to leave.

"Heh... Keep up the good work, lamb. There won't be a reason fer me ta' eat ya' if I'm already fed, right?"

He says this so calmly; so casually for the given situation, causing you to really take into account just how much he lacks the ability of a moral compass... Well, for the most part. You weren't sure what to make of his actions, from practically kidnapping you, to patching up the wound which still rings a sting against your skin, and now this...

You know that this situation is definitely not a first for him. A first for killing WITH someone? Yeah, maybe... But considering he's been weathered down to a point of no real ethical consideration, he's definitely exposed himself to this frequently.

You, on the other hand, were reading through your thoughts at lightspeed, just being exposed to your first kill. You were planning which direction you were going to run when the cops would inevitably track the two of you down. Could you plead it was self-defense? Are you even still the victim here? No, god- No you were so fucked!
Your prints were now on that blade, on the corpse before you, and you had been here far too long.
Nobody would believe that you weren't an accomplice, and how could you blame them for that?

You could only hope that the other had been careful to cover his tracks initially.

Within your bout of fear, you must have been oblivious to how well displayed your current emotions had been across your features. The devil picks up on this, sighing lightly.

"I'm jus' kiddin', gee. Calm down...We're the same, now. There ain't a reason fer ya' ta' be scared 'a me."

His words meet you as his large hand sets a gentle pat on your back.
He sounds truthful, his voice slipping into a deeper tone which means, as fucked up as the current state of affairs is, he's genuinely trying to comfort you.

"The same...?" You reply, visibly shaken at the others remark.
Your words must have been cast in a volume opposed to that of what's screaming your head, as he didn't seem to pick up on your words evidenced by the lack of a direct response to your questioning. Maybe, rather, he chose to ignore you.