Saccharin『 yandere o.shots』(Requests: OPEN)

Andrew Kreiss | Gravekeeper 🅿️(?)

ignore the lack of lore-accuracy, i am literally freestyling this. MC is kinda creepy in this but eh, so is andrew. 

---

you murmured against the hands that hid your face, standing in front of a grave, a loosely ribbon-tied bouquet of sun-dried-irises flowers sitting on the thick carved stone.

you heard a sharp inhale behind you, then a voice.

"y-you're not allowed on... to be at night time on lord marshall's grounds... it's not my job but..." the voice stuttered as it tried to keep up with his train of thought, it was deep but raspy, not as in was sore but like it's owner didn't stay for chit-chat. despite it's clumsy deliver, the underlying threat was apparent.

you slowly turned around, hands raised to your shoulders as you greeted the dark-clad figure in front of you, their features cloaked under the night but you could still see a slightly serrated-from-use shovel raised and held by who you knew to be the grave-keeper.

"not your job, you aren't a watchman? do you know if there are any nearby, then?" you asked, still keeping your hands raised.

"h... why sho--- who are you?!" he slightly raised his voice.

"oh! my apologies, i am but just a humble scholar... and i heard there were some more... fresh anatomical references and even more freshly digged up dirt, so fresh you wouldn't know if it was done a week or now."

"a-are you saying that i am going to let you bribe me to--- to let you to defile these graves?" you heard hard leather creak and the wooden pole that held the makeshift blade of the shovel groan under his grip.

"i belive being a watchman isn't in your paygrade mister grave-keeper. and i can compensate for your time if you let me know which one is the most recent burial." you slowly grabbed from your bag a sizable pouch.

"h-how much extra would you add if i were to help you... dig them?"

you smiled, "name your price."

you watched him stab the dirt-mount, watching dirt cave in and become more sparse from separation, throwing the dirt back on top of the decorated coffin.

you gripped his hand when he almost snatched the pouch from your grip, he flinched trying to tug it away before you began to shake it.

"i never got your name kind sir."

"why would i ever give it to you?"

"so i know who to ask for, and also because you caught my attention, you're an interesting guy. i'd like it if we were to meet aside from business."

"are you making fun of me? what would you even gain from trying to get friendly with me? i... i could kill you and..." he trailed off, trying to make his intimidation as graphic as possible to weird you out.

"camaraderie, perhaps? i don't care if i were to pay you for your time or get hypothetically back-stabbed---"

"no, stop! i get it! you want to know me! just... i-if i tell you. do you promise not to..?" the last part being left unsaid.

"of course."

"i'll bury you alive if you do."

"like i said, i don't mind."

"i... i'm andrew... andrew kreiss." 

your eyebrow raised, "andrew kreiss...you're sister--- madam kreiss' offspring?"

"don't you talk about---"

you pulled him closer by his hand, making it so that he would be able to make proper eye contact with you, and in turn, so that you could finally come face to face with who the church have been calling "white-haired monster".

his paper-white face offset by brightness of red in his one un-hidden eye, deep like a pool of blood from the bad lighting that came from the moon but shifting slightly to a more earthy tone from certain angles. it was slightly sunken and upturned, making him look constantly weak and tired. his was slightly curled at the ends, probably refrained from completely doing so from the weight of the length, it seemed almost transparent like wisps of steam.

you hummed, "it's a pleasure meeting you mr. kreiss. i hope we can become friends in the near future."

he frowned.

and you were true to your word, everytime it was nighttime you began to barge in his personal space. chatting to your life's content receiving little hums and grunts of acknowledgement, occasionally bribing him to take a few anatomical 'models' to replace the older ones.

this continued for long, maybe for a few winters?

but this particular day, you had a little surprise for him.

he frowned for what seemed to be the hundredth time, taking a step back as you held something behind your frame.

you took it out for him to look, "i saw you look at them longingly so i decided to make a little something for my dear friend." it was a purple beaded brooch, sewn to look like an iris.

he refused to take it, "what is it that you want me to do this time?"

"i want you to wear them." you say it like it was obvious.

"it's too...pretty. are you trying to mock me? trying to make me---"

"no, no. i just think it'll be a nice gift for a dear friend of mine, you deserve to have nice things, you know?"

"why... this... of all times?"

"i... admit it's more of an apology gift. my tutor has becoming more vague and i fear i won't be able to finish my research since he's the one with the information and i'm going to spend most of my time trying to find a reliable source and studies are going to take most of my time and..." you rambled.

"do you need more bodies? i know there's been a few more recent ones--- or older if you need skeletons i can help you with digging them."

"oh--- oh nono no! i don't need you to do that anymore, i'm out of your hair so you don't have to worry about me bothering you anymore!"

"is it the townsfolk? have they discovered that you've been talking to me? or the church? landlord marshall?"

"not that either, andrew. look, it's the only opportunity i have to officially earn the title of physician, he suddenly dropped my studies just so that he can teach this other kid just because he's richer--- and he's been teaching me for longer--- he couldn't wait until i graduated."

he grabbed your shoulder, gloves creaking slightly from the friction.

"it's okay, don't worry about it. i'll... be fine."

"farewell, my friend."

"see you soon, dear friend."

you'll come back, though. he hopes that he managed to sufficiently pay you back for the brooch.

he smiled for the first time in what seemed to be years, but unfortunately you weren't there to see it. but he's glad you didn't, specially under this context.

he heard the small bell ring with panic, faint screams from the air-tube and the thuds from under the heavy coffin lid. there is no watchmen to save him, though. so andrew continued with his job and continued to bury the soon to be deceased.

if it rang again, he'd say it was probably a clumsy cat or the evening bell.

---

kinda hate the pacing in this.

does andrew count as a pathetic man? now he does in my book. (he is but in a sad way)