Under The Floors (Most Likely Discontinued)

4

TW FOR ALCOHOL USE... ALSO MASTURBATION

DANIEL

It was 4:18 pm. A day after you had killed that other guy. Daniel was still asleep on the couch, which was typical. He rolled off the couch, hitting the ground with a thud. He groaned, hanging onto the couch and getting up. He stretched and, maneuvering to the kitchen, glanced about for anything that had moved. Daniel sighed, opening and shutting cabinets looking for something. He sniffled, rubbing his hand on his eye. He had run out of that stuff he used. Oh, what was it called again? He mewled, checking one last time "Better luck next time..." He opened the fridge and grabbed a bottle of Jack Daniels from it. He opened the top to it, sighing. He had completely forgotten to 'deal' with you. He walked to the living room and sat down. Daniels's gaze trailed down toward his sweatpants. Just this once, it wouldn't hurt. He was hard anyways. His hand reached down, under both the sweatpants and his boxers. He pulled both layers of clothing down, exposing his dick. He took a deep drag of air. Daniel knew he had sworn off masturbation, but it had been too long. His hand trailed up to the shaft of his dick. He started to pump his fist up and down, he knew this was wrong. He shouldn't be doing this, he leaned his head back onto the sofa. It was immoral of him. He was wrong for doing this. What would his mother think? Would she be proud? Probably not. But she was dead, so it didn't matter. He had started to get faster, moaning and whining as he did. He gasped, covering his mouth. He was meant to be a benevolent, protestant male. His eyes rolled up in pure ecstasy as he came. It was so wrong, but he loved it.

NOBODY

It's been a while since Daniel came down to the basement. Where is he? Is he asleep? He buried the body... So where was he? What was he doing? You felt your ankle, whimpering. You looked down, your ankles were still disfigured, but they had started to hurt badly. You didn't want to raise your voice or cry. But you needed his help, although unwanted. It was needed. So you raised your voice. "Daniel!" You crawled to the stairs. "Daniel!" You shouted, putting your face on the stairs "Daniel!!!" Your voice started to wobble. Nothing. You whimpered, your eyes becoming glossy and tears starting to form in your eyes. Was he punishing you for killing that man? You started to sob "Daniel!..." You shouted, your voice being weak. Just when you'd given up, Daniel came strolling down the stairs. The light from upstairs hit like it was vitriolic, hurting your eyes. He noticed you were crying, stepping over you and cuddling you "Oh sweetheart, why are you crying?... I thought you were happy like this..." Daniel sat back and put his hand on your face, caressing it. "It hurts..." You sniffled, hanging onto him. "What does, my dear?" He held you in his arms, standing up with you. "Ankles..." You buried your face into his neck, cuddling him. He started to move up the stairs with you in his arms, using his shoulder to push open the basement door. He stepped over various items, setting you on the kitchen floor. "Stay here, okay sweetheart?" He kissed your face, walking to the bathroom. Now was your chance. You crawled to the door, sitting up and opening it to an empty, desolate street. "HELP! HELPPPP!" You screamed, all the houses were empty though. Daniel came running over, grabbing you right by the neck and dragging you away. He slammed the door closed, his shaky hands taking out a set of keys and locking the door. He looked back at you, stifling a sob "W-Why..." He whimpered "I'm doing everything right..." He walked to the kitchen "I'm taking care of you..." You sat up, trying to back away. "Im doing ALL THE RIGHT THINGS!" Daniel grabbed a knife, walked to you, and got down "YOU SHOULD LOVE ME..." He brought the knife above his head, slamming it down.