"Yandere is a portmanteau of two Japanese words. The first is yanderu, which means "to be sick," and the second is deredere, used here for "lovestruck." A yandere is often sweet, caring, and innocent before switching into someone who displays an ext...
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It has been several years now that we have been at war with the Polar Bears; no peace has come to mind between my side and the enemy. A few months prior, my family and I had been transferred to Fort Iceburg after the Battle of Stanzard. It was a gruesome battle, and unfortunately the Polar Bears had come out victorious once again. We had only won a few battles compared to the numerous our enemies had won throughout the war.
I remember the first battle, the Battle of Arcnorth. I was a sixteen-year-old student studying for my exams at my school's library when suddenly an explosion had been heard nearby. The intercom had come online, the principal requesting for everyone to take cover and hide. I managed to squeeze myself inside a vent, and from that space, I had witnessed the most gory scene in my entire life. A small army of Polar Bears had barged in and searched the room, eventually finding some of my classmates. They were all lined up before being decapitated, cut into several pieces. Their screams, crying, and begging—I could still hear them in my head to this day; it will forever haunt my mind. I escaped through the vents, navigating myself up to the rooftop where I climbed down and ran to the outskirts of the city. We had been taught to go there if an attack ever occurred, for our army would be waiting to transport us to safety. Of course, I escaped along with most of my friends and family.
On my way to the outskirts of the city, however, I had stumbled upon a Polar Bear that seemed to be too young to have joined their army. He seemed to be my age, which confused me. He attempted to kill me, but I managed to slap him with my tail and knock him down. I had nearly made him fall unconscious, but he kept himself awake. By the time he woke up though, I was already gone. Since then, I would see him at every battle, but the unfortunate thing is that he would always target me. He would appear out of nowhere, attack, then I would either beat him in a fight or someone would scare him away after his attempts at killing me.
I have learned one horrifying thing about what happens to our people, the ones that get slaughtered and put into bags. It is truly upsetting and stomach-turning, but the Polar Bears eat them. When Chief Millmoore announced this, I had vomited then passed out. I refused to believe him, but after hearing more and more of it, I knew that it had to be true. There had been rare instances where some of my people had been taken alive with few escaping and returning to tell their stories.
However, I cannot stop thinking of that boy—well, man. I am 24 now, and he would be too, or somewhere near my age.
"Mother? Father?"
It was currently eight at night and my family was eating dinner. Now was my chance to finally tell them about this strange man. I couldn't hold it in as a secret anymore, something had to be done about this before any more trouble occurred.
