Slasher Oneshots

Brahms Heelshire (SFW)

You were hired by the Heelshires to look after their young boy, Brahms. Though when you arrived to the estate and met them, you learned that their boy was actually a doll. The poor couple lost their son in a house fire is what the grocery man, Malcom, told you. Malcom was a nice man, though he often tried to flirt with you subtly, you shut down that flirting as quickly as you possibly can.

You were sitting on the couch in the living room, the soft fabric making contact with your skin. The Heelshires didn't have any of the modern technology you're used to so you would easily grow bored, but you eventually found some books in the house you liked. Currently you were reading Wuthering Heights, the orangey glow of the fireplace illuminated the pages. You were abut halfway through the book when your stomach growled, signaling you to get food. You marked your page and placed it down on the coffee table in front of you, sighing as you did. You stood up and stretched, then made your way to the kitchen. You decided on making a simple meal of two pieces of toast, you were feeling quite lazy. As you waited for the toast to pop up from the toaster you stared at the wall, the paint was peeling a bit. A small frown fell on your face, thinking about how you should fix it. A loud springing sound made you jump. You sighed as you grabbed the toast, slightly burning your fingers. You spread some butter on it and quickly sunk your teeth into it. Sure it was basic and didn't have a lot of flavour, but you could never go wrong with toast. The melted butter and crisp, warm bread made you feel at ease.

After finishing your food you cleaned up after yourself then left the kitchen. Once you stepped foot into the living room, the warm air that emitted from the fire touched your skin, it made you smile to yourself. You sat back down on the couch and looked at the coffee table for your book. Your brows furrowed as you saw that the table was bare of anything except the vase that held white flowers in the middle, you tilted your head to see if it maybe fell off, but all that was on the floor was the dark red rug. You stood up, confusion filling your mind. "What..?" you whispered to yourself as you walked around the couch looking for your book. You looked at every single inch of the living room, still not finding that damn book. You thought you were maybe just tired and needed to lay down for a bit, after all you haven't been getting the best of sleep lately, you always felt like someone was watching you.

You made you way up the stairs and into the long hallway. You passed Brahms' room, but noticed that the doll you played down earlier was sitting up. Fear plucked at you nerves as you froze. You stared walked into the doll's room cautiously, though you saw nothing out of the ordinary, except Brahms sitting up of course. You grabbed the doll and clutched it to your chest. It was silly that you were being protective of a porcelain doll but you felt like you needed to be. You backed out of the room with the doll in your arms, walking to your room. You were extremely paranoid, your eyes shot around the room looking to see if there was anything out of place. The only thing that could be heard in the house was your footsteps and the wind beating against the windows. You finally made it to your room, though the fear you had didn't leave you, in fact it got worse. Your room was pitch black. You felt around for the light switch, eventually your shaky hand found it and flicked it up. Your eyes widened as you saw something that was never there. Your breath hitched as tears threatened to fall. There was man sitting on your bed, his back turned to you.

The man's hair was dark and messy, the curls were knotted together. Her clearly hasn't bathed in a long time. Your thoughts screamed at you to run but you were frozen in place, your trembling hands gripped onto the doll. The man started to turn towards you. The man's eyes met yours as he spoke "<___>." his voice was forced into a falsetto, he was trying to sound like a child. Tears fell down your face as you watched the man stand up, he walked right up to you, tilting his head slightly. You had no idea how this man knew your name, or what to do or say. But once the man was close enough you saw he was wearing a mask of porcelain, matching the doll's face. You put two and two together, this man was Brahms. It all made sense, the eyes, the hair, everything about this man was reflected in the doll.

Brahms never died, he was living in the walls, watching your every move. That's why you always felt like you were being watched, and why your book went missing earlier today. As you were lost in thought you realized that warmth was now wrapped around you. Brahms was now on his knees in front of you, his oddly muscular arms wrapped around you waist and his head rested against the bottom of your ribcage. "Don't leave me." he croaked out, the forced falsetto cracked, his natural voice slipping through. You don't know what came over you but you didn't push him away or scream, in fact you eased at his touch. You kept the doll wrapped in your right arm while your left hand made its way to Brahms' head. Your fingers got entangled in his matted curls "I won't." you whispered. 

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I really didn't have a plan for this one so I apologize if it feels really rushed or anything like that! -C.B