Stalker's Tango

7: The Teacher is the Pet

【ωαяиιиg】: Excessive Swearing, Stabbing, Sweet man goes through it, [S/C], [H/L], [H/C], [E/C] stand for: Skin color, Hair length, Hair color, and Eye color. You might already know, but better be safe than sorry

A/N: And finally, here is an illustration of Jean Risinger, AKA: Beep.

sɪᴍɪʟᴀʀɪᴛɪᴇs ᴛᴏ ᴀɴʏ ʀᴇᴀʟ ᴄɪʀᴄᴜᴍsᴛᴀɴᴄᴇs ᴏʀ ᴘᴇʀsᴏɴs ʟɪᴠɪɴɢ ᴏʀ ᴅᴇᴀᴅ ᴀʀᴇ ᴘᴜʀᴇʟʏ ᴄᴏɪɴᴄɪᴅᴇɴᴛᴀʟ.

♪───Ｏ(✿◍•ᴗ•◍)✧*Ｏ────♪

His head is pounding, and he hisses at the pain that seemingly came from everywhere. Light brown eyes, used to be full of innocence, now diluted from the cruelty he has been subjected to. Jean looks upward. Just as expected, his hands are still chained up above his head against the wall. His arms and shoulders are sore from being suspended for days on end.

Though if he hasn't last tracked already, then it's already been three weeks.

At least his wounds had stopped bleeding, that didn't really mean anything to him since he knows his kidnapper will do something about it. Jean has to admit, he's surprised he was alive for this long. He doesn't understand why his kidnapper insists on keeping him alive. Not that he's ungrateful for being alive, but it's still confusing nonetheless.

Creaaak!

Speak of the devil, and he shall arrive.

Jean furrows his eyebrows.

That...

Is not his kidnapper and abuser.

But Jean isn't that surprised anymore, since other fucked up looking people (and at one point, there was the ugliest fucking dog he has ever seen) would occasionally peak inside. They wouldn't do anything, just stare. Remembering what his kidnapper told him, they're just like him: killers.

The man in front of him had a white mask with black markings that painted semi-feminine features. His mustard-yellow jacket was stained heavy with blood, and he reeked of it, too. His brown hair was matted in certain places from blood. Jean stares him down. He can't really say anything if he wanted to, he was gagged.

The masked figure-Masky-closes the door behind him, slowly stalking towards Jean. He digs something out of his pocket, getting blood on it-a phone-because he hadn't bothered cleaning his hands beforehand.

Masky turns on the phone, making Jean realize just how fucking dark it is in the damn room. He's gotten too used to the dark. Masky crouches down in front of Jean.

"I'm going to remove your gag, and you're going to answer some questions for me," He instructs curtly, "You scream, I kill you. You refuse to cooperate, I kill you. If I find out you lied to me, well, I'm sure you can guess what I'll do to you."

If Jean wasn't so hyper aware that this man would actually kill him at any minor inconvenience, then he would've rolled his eyes. Instead, he nods.

Masky sets the phone on the floor face down, reaching up to pull down the gag from Jean's mouth. The blond sighs quietly in relief, flexing his sore jaw now that it's free. The mask killer grabs the phone from the floor, then shows the screen to Jean.