Suck my toes | slashers x femreader

Not getting caught 01

"ᵀʰᵉʸ ᵐᵃᵈᵉ ᵐᵉ ᵈᵒ ⁱᵗ"

I exhaled deeply as I settled myself in the couch, grabbing the remote and flipping through the various channels.

While channel surfing, I stumbled upon the news channel, only to find out that there had been a murder on the first floor of my apartment building.

My eyes remained fixed on the television screen as the news reporter reported on the recent murder.
"In a shocking turn of events," the reporter announced, "James Sunderlin, a well-known local businessman, was found dead in his apartment earlier today."

It seems like that they didn't find the person that killed him. I was more relieved than anything, he was always putting his nose where it didn't belong.

-My face paled upon the realization that the room where his murder took place was Unit 04 right below mine,
this could seriously jeopardize my chances of being discovered since we lived so close together.

I sweat dropped at the thought of being arrested for Man slaughter and Cannibalism.

So It was crucial that I transfer what was left of my last victim to my super-storage before they start knocking on doors and asking if someone had seen something or heard something, I jumped up from the couch quickly,
grabbed my keys and started boxing up my Frozen "meat" from the freezer, carrying it through my window.

As I stepped outside I managed to avoid the cameras in the front of the building and repeatedly went to and from my window to load the boxes into my van.

After finally finishing packing the boxes in the back of my van I stepped on reverse and left the Addison apartments.

As i drove to the storage unit the radio News channel blared through the car speakers, discussing the murder that had taken place in the apartment directly beneath mine.

Despite not being the perpetrator myself, the news sent a shiver down my spine, knowing the potential implications for my unconventional dietary habits.
The realization that someone had been killed, and the possibility of being associated with the crime, made me feel uneasy.



I arrived at the storage unit, parked in front of my storage room (077) and swung open the massive door.

Inside, the space was covered in layers of plastic wrap.
With a sense of urgency, I hurried to the back, where my freezer full of other meats laid.
I then made my way back to my van, popping the trunk and relocating the box's of "meat" into the large freezer.

After unloading all the box's I stood outside, leaning against the car as I pulled out a pack of Marlboro cigs and extracted one from the pack bringing it to my lips, feeling the texture of the paper against my skin.

As the flame flickered in the air, I leaned in, the heat warming my face as I inhaled.
But instead of the anticipated satisfaction, a harsh bitterness invaded my mouth, lingering on my tongue as I exhaled, leaving behind a stale taste that seemed to seep into every crevice of mouth. Yet, despite the unpleasantness, I couldn't help but crave that moment of calm that the cigarette promised.

A little while later I locked my storage room, got back into my big white and undeniably suspicious van and drove back To Rosevilles "Addisons apartments"