Entrapped hearts [Yandere Cult X Reader]

Wine

(Amelia POV)

I watched in horror as Dean walked away, his hands stained with blood, the crimson stark against his pale skin. It was a sight that made my stomach churn with unease, and I couldn't shake the feeling of dread that settled over me like a heavy blanket.

"Oh dear, I hope y/n doesn't see," I murmured to myself, my voice barely above a whisper as I wrestled with the shock of what I had just witnessed. Duke, sensing my distress, pulled me closer to his shoulder, his strong arm providing some semblance of comfort in the midst of the turmoil.

"Just sleep, hon. It's nothing to worry about," he reassured me, his voice gentle but firm, as if trying to convince himself as much as me. But his words did little to quell the rising tide of fear that threatened to consume me whole.

"But..." I started to protest, my mind racing with a thousand questions and fears, but Duke cut me off before I could voice them.

"No 'buts,'" he insisted, his tone leaving no room for argument as he lifted me up and carried me to the truck. " Jordan said he'll be home around 1, he just needs to clean up."

As Duke settled me into the truck, I couldn't shake the feeling that something was terribly wrong. "Why are we stopping?" I asked, my voice trembling with apprehension as I watched Duke step out of the vehicle, his movements deliberate and tense.

"I just need to check something," Duke replied cryptically, his eyes betraying a flicker of concern as he glanced back at me. "Stay in the truck."

I nodded silently, my gaze fixated on the strange house ahead. A sense of foreboding settled over me like a dark cloud as I watched a similar car pull up beside the house, its presence only serving to deepen my growing sense of unease.

Suddenly, my heart skipped a beat as I saw people from the party emerge from the house, dragging a large, ominous body bag behind them. Panic surged through me, and I knew I had to investigate.

With a trembling hand, I pushed open the door and stepped out of the truck, my feet moving of their own accord as I crept behind the house, my breaths shallow and ragged with fear.

As I approached, the voices grew louder, their words sending shivers down my spine. "No, just blend him, melt him down," one voice said, its tone chillingly matter-of-fact.

I felt my blood run cold as another voice chimed in, "Mix him in with the old wine, make sure you mark it."

My mind reeled with horror at the implications of their conversation, and without a moment's hesitation, I turned and fled back to the safety of the truck, my heart pounding in my chest as I prayed for escape from this nightmare. 

I laid my head to the side as if I were asleep.

Moments later, Duke returned and started the engine, unaware of the turmoil raging inside me as we drove away into the night.

"Aw, poor baby's asleep," he remarked casually, unaware of the turmoil raging inside me.

As we drove away, my mind raced with horrifying possibilities. 

What did any of this mean?

And then it hit me... 

Didn't we drink their homemade wine?

Nausea churned in the pit of my stomach as I was carried inside and laid on our bed, the weight of the situation pressing down on me like a suffocating blanket. Frantically, I tried to piece together a plan of action amidst the chaos swirling in my mind.

Should I leap up and confront them about the vile truth I had uncovered? 

Or should I quietly gather evidence to expose their horrifying secret?

Morning broke with unexpected swiftness, catching me still wrestling with my inner turmoil. I sat up, my head heavy with unanswered questions, and shuffled towards the kitchen.

"Did you sleep well?" Duke's concerned voice pierced through the fog of my thoughts, but I could only manage a vague shrug in response.

As I sank into a chair, Jordan appeared beside me, his eyes filled with genuine concern. "Hon, do you want something to drink?" he asked, his voice tinged with worry.

The mere thought of ingesting anything made my stomach churn. "No, I just... feel bad," I muttered, struggling to articulate the depths of my unease.

Their exchanged glances betrayed their shared concern.

"Let me check your temperature," Jordan suggested, disappearing momentarily to retrieve a thermometer.

Minutes later, Duke's gentle voice broke the silence. "Oh hon, you do have a high fever. Let's lay you down and get you some water and soup," he said, his words laced with a mix of worry and care.

With a sense of foreboding lingering in the air, they guided me to the couch, ensuring I was comfortable before preparing to leave for work. 

Yet, the unusualness of their departure did not escape me – they had never left me alone like this before.

As soon as the door clicked shut behind them, I seized the opportunity to send out a desperate text message: 

"Listen with headphones."

Trembling fingers hovered over my phone's screen as I began recording a voice message, urgently warning anyone who might receive it.

"Don't drink the wine, for the love of God, don't drink it!"

But before I could finish, a chilling realization washed over me. If only I had turned around to ensure they had truly left, perhaps I wouldn't have felt the cold tip of a needle being pressed against my neck.

"Our hon just had to be so smart, ruined the surprise," a sinister voice sneered from the shadows, sending a shiver down my spine as darkness enveloped me.