The soft, almost unnoticeable sounds of a brush stroke, going along the texture of the canvas, every piece having the same person on it yet the poses and expressions that were painted oh so carefully were all different. A single mistake would get the man upset, making him yell like a toddler throwing a tantrum, splashing another bucket of that crimson red, iron smelling liquid, starting a new once the blood was dried just enough. Countless souls having been torture just for this...
A crimson base for such perfection...
The colour of your skin had to be perfect, the eyes had to twinkle just like yours would. The smile- the stretch of your scarred/smooth(?) lips being accompanied the wrinkle that would happen in certain places of your face. Your eyelashes had to be perfect, your entire face was already perfect, if he even made one single mistake... He'd start over.
The day he met you still freshly in his mind, playing like a mantra, such sweet lips that smiled at him. The soft mumble of an apology as you bumped into him, perfection, a thing he never saw in people. He needed to see it again, yet. He could never find you, after that one meeting, such a simple meeting, he never saw you again.
Just to get that spark back, to get that same type of giddiness, he kept painting you all over the surfaces of the canvas he'd purchase, money being spent, going down the drain, yet it was all worth it.
The paintings were nearing the hundred mark, as mention. Poses, outfits, expressions all place on their respective surfaces.
Sad, lewd, angry, happy, excited. The expression list went on. The poses, mourning. Sultry, rage filled, his hand did wonders on making the expressions and poses perfect.
He hummed a tune, focusing on a certain parts of your body, a shiver running down his spine as his imagination jumped around.
Screams that he ignored, the begging to be let go all in vain as the blood dripped into the stained steel below the persons feet.
He let out a happy sigh, finishing his latest master piece, putting it aside to let it fully dry.
He could never forget such a face, especially when it was plastered on all services of his house. Every strand of hair, every stroke of the exact same colour/s your eyes were, the tone of your skin perfectly done. He could never create the real beauty, yet these would have to do.
The scream grew fainter as he ascended his basement stairs, still humming the same time, eyes turning away from ahead of him to stare at his twenty-third art piece. The background was the exact replica of his kitchen and you cooking inside of it, not a single detail missed as he let out a sigh. A dreamy sigh, oh to have that life with you.
It was like Aphrodite herself had made you, such perfection, such grace. His stomach seem to curl as a tingle went down his spine as he continued to him walking down his always towards his bedroom, another picture he had made catching his eye, another replica of the living room, with you relaxing on it, snuggled up on the cushions. He continued onwards ignoring his other master pieces, none he would want to fantasize about as of late, only the domesticated side that he craved with you.
The creak of his bedroom door along with the click of it shutting had his tune come to a halt as he laid down on his bed, closing his eyes, daydream about when he would get to see his beloved...
"I'm telling you I didn't fuck nobody😡"
"I'm not getting anywhere with this am I?" Chris grunted before sighing. "Just tell me– better yet, SHOW ME, where the swamp creature is." Chris was going to kill the thing, wether you liked it or not, it was a danger to humans, he couldn't have cared less if it had a child no less older then a three year old.
"Your honour I did NOT fuck with that man because he gave me ten dollars😠" you kept saying weird shit, knowing it would make him uncomfortable enough to stop questioning you.
"Cut the crap [Name]! it's not working, now–" so suddenly you were kicking your feet and giggling like a school girl. Chris gave you a dumbfounded look. "What?"
"Nothin'.." you continued to kick your feet causing Chris to huff. "Seriously?" He asked, before pinching the bridge of his nose.
"Teehee"
"Shut the fuck up."
"😓"
Chris was annoyed, rightfully so. He was just trying to do his job, he knew he could easily torture you without any repercussions. Yet, he didn't want to do that, you had helped him out years prior before your life went to shit. An idea did pop up in his head, maybe a stupid one, maybe one that would lead to the swamp creatures location. Chris got up waving for the guards that were outside to escort you off of the premises as he mumbled a certain something to them. "Can I go?" Your question was immediately answered by you getting picked up and dragged off of the royal knights ground, being thrown in the dirt like a piece of dog shit.
"Dick..." You grunted as you got up and hobbled off like an old person that just broke a hip.
(SABI'S YAP FEST 🗣️
i don't even know what I just wrote😖 it's like 1am 😿
Can anyone guess who the person is 😋?)
YOU ARE READING
„UH OH!!"
FanfictionA yandere resident evil various X reader fairytale Au!! "I'll save you!" "I'm seriously about to throw garlic at you.." "😰⁉️"
