A marionette's dance (Yandere!ShalnarkXreader

dreams

Light spilled from the large stained glass window, casting everything in pinks and purples. The chapel echoed with the soft sounds of music as a young man played a keyboard from the altar, birds chirping from the surrounding forest. You walked down the red carpet to the front pew where you saw your friends sitting, backs toward you. The corridor seemed to stretch on for much longer than seemed possible. Faces melded into each other but you could see the four heads of your friends in the front. A crack echoed and you spotted the ground dip below your feet. Red bubbled up from the floorboard and crying from the hole pulled your attention. You crouched to the floor and began prying the wood away to save whoever was below the ground. The wood finally gave and splinters let a matching crimson spread from your fingers and you froze. A pulsing, beating lump of brain cried from the gash in its veins. It melted into the ground and crunched into a muddle beneath an invisible foot. You recoiled and scrambled back, quickly finding yourself at the end of a cliff as the floor had given out behind you. Your clothes moulded into those of formal events and a loose thread webbed around your skin and pulled you toward the altar. Shalnark stood in a pink suit, holding a small box in his hands. You stumbled onto the stage, lights dimming and illu minating everything in a deep scarlet. Your hand moved against your will to accept the ring presented and you begged your friends for help only to see their heads roll from their shoulders. You screamed as you tried to help the bleeding bodies that melted into the gaping mouth of the floorboard but couldn't move. The ring on your hand opened its fleshy eye to stare at you and exploded into thousands of wasps. Your hand ached and you watched as the metal melted through your finger and cleanly severed flesh from bone. Millions of spiders swarmed from the stub on your hand and infested your body, spinning webs and biting your flesh. You knocked over a candle and you lit in flame almost instantly, skin sliding easily off of muscle and allowing the unbothered creatures to squirm into your crevices.

  You stirred and sat up, quickly surmising that it was nothing but a dream. The encounter with the phantom troupe however felt… Wrong. Was that all a dream? It had to be, you reasoned because as you looked over the place you woke up, it was your flat. How had you gotten to your flat? Weren't you sleeping in a hotel? You slipped onto the hardwood of the floor but noticed it was much cleaner than you had left it. You examined all of your things and found the same revelation. Although these things were yours and the walls were the same colour, they were different. All of your pens and pencils had been picked up from the desk and put away into their containers, your bookshelf wasn't the way you had organised, your clothes had been folded and put away, and your bed had been made. Perhaps the most damning piece of evidence however was your travel bag that had been hung neatly by the door. If it was all a dream, then why would your bag be out? A dawning sense of dread propelled you to grab the pocket knife you kept on the left side of your bag and you rummaged violently for it. It wasn't there. Nor was the box cutter you kept in the bottom left drawer of your desk, nor the one you had been keeping in the seam of your mattress. You rushed for the door only to find it locked but listening intently alerted you to footsteps approaching. You made a split-second decision to feign sleep. Perhaps they wouldn't bother you if they thought you hadn't woken yet.

  The door creaked open slowly and you heard the soft footsteps set something metal on the desk. You did your best to calm your breathing and to most, you would have seemed fast asleep. The figure sat next to you, the mattress sinking to accommodate the extra weight. Your nerves must have been shot by now and you prepared to run. An airy laugh carried to your form,
“Pretending to be asleep? How childish.” He mused, voice full of an amused lilt.
You didn't move, convincing yourself that if you didn't move, it wasn't real. He sighed and rested his hand on your shoulder, an action that made you involuntarily recoil. With the accidental confirmation of your consciousness, you opened your eyes. There he was. Approximately 5’9, signature blonde hair, and cyan eyes that rested upon your own glaring pair.
“What do you want?” you spat with more venom than you knew you had.
He sighed dreamily and smiled gently.
“I haven't heard your voice in ten years.” He spoke with such fondness that it seemed he didn't realise the gravity of what he had done.
“Answer. Me.”
You were mad and in no mood for whatever game he wanted to play. He frowned at you, not in anger, but in confusion.
“What do you mean? I just want to spend time with you.”
Was he playing innocent?
“You know what you did!” he was getting on your nerves.
“You must be hungry. I brought you some food, it's your favourite!”
“Don't change the subject!”
You weren't the same gullible young child that you once had been.
“You clearly need some time to adjust. I can feed you if you’d like?” He joked in a light tone.
  “I’ll never eat anything from you.” you spat, both figuratively and literally, a thick glob of saliva landing on his shirt.
He sighed and stood to leave, “I’ll leave it here for when you want it.” He said.
  “If I never saw you again it would be too soon.”
He turned towards you with a scowl, so harsh that you felt all your nerves stand on end, and stepped toward you. This is it. He was going to kill you. But instead, he buried his face in your shoulder and hugged you tight. Too tight. Possessive.
“I’ll be back. We can go back to how it used to be,” he partially pleaded, “but watch your words. I’m being nice but if you say something like that again,” his grip tightened to a suffocating degree, “I can't promise you’ll like the outcome.”
And with that simple threat, he was gone.

  For the first few days, you stayed with your back to the corner, eyes trained on the door. Your defiance, however, was wearing thin as the pit in your stomach slowly grew and your eyes grew heavy. It was only after you woke from a bout of unconsciousness driven by dehydration that you finally gave in. Your legs shook from misuse as you stood and let the blankety fall from your shoulders, leaving you to feel exposed to the cold eyes of the shadows, and you stumble over to the metal tray left on the desk. Sure enough, the food was indeed your favourite but at that moment you were sure that you would eat anything. It had long gone cold and you thought that some of it may have spoiled but you couldn't care, shovelling it into your mouth. You immediately regretted it as a nausea-inducing headache filled your skull. You rushed to lay down under the bed frame, not trusting the open, in an attempt to keep your stomach from curling. Sometime, you weren't sure when, you drifted into a deep, dreamless sleep. You woke only once to turn and hug your warm, large pillow that almost felt like it held you back, before you slipped once more into sleep.

  You stirred awake and silently hoped you had dreamt but you knew it was real. You sat up wordlessly and examined the room once again. When did you get into bed? You didn't want to get up. The bed was warm and soft and you collapsed beneath the covers once again, searching for the body pillow you held all night. You sat up with a start as you remembered that you didn't own a body pillow. You tossed the sheets from your skin and scrambled to find anything that might have resembled the pillow you remembered but couldn't find one.
“What are you searching for?”
You leaped from the mattress and saw Shalnark leaning in the door with his arms crossed.
“Were you in here last night?” You inquired, voice shaking slightly.
He chuckled and stepped closer, the door swinging shut behind him.
  “Why? Did you want me to join you?” he teased lightly.
He stepped toward you and you immediately took two back. He sighed, raising his arms in mock surrender, You cautiously watched him as he stepped over to the desk chair and you noticed that he removed the tray. He leaned back in the chair and smiled, waiting for you to find a spot.
“It's been a while. Let's talk.”