The Parasite [Yandere x Reader]

Chapter 9 - (The Memories)

I jolted awake, my heart pounding in my chest from the loud crash that had shattered the silence. I strained my ears, listening for any other sounds that might indicate an intruder.

What was that?

Is someone in the house?

My mind raced as adrenaline coursed through my veins.

The manor was deathly quiet, except for the faint ticking of the antique grandfather clock in the hallway. Carefully slipping out of bed, I crept towards the door, grabbing the baseball bat I had stashed in the corner just in case.

Stay calm. You've got this.

It's probably nothing... right?

With my makeshift weapon gripped tightly, I slowly made my way down the shadowy hallway towards the stairs, my bare feet padding silently across the plush carpet. As I reached the top of the staircase, I peered down towards the foyer below.

That's when I saw it—a large vase lying in pieces on the tile floor, shattered into a million shards. The same priceless antique vase I had admired and nearly purchased from the thrift store just days ago.

What the...

How did that get here?

And how did it break?

My brow furrowed in confusion as I descended the stairs, scanning the dimly lit room for any signs of a break-in. But all the doors and windows remained tightly locked, just as I had left them.

This doesn't make any sense.

If no one broke in, then how...?

That's when something on the floor caught my eye—a framed photograph lying face down amid the shattered remains of the vase. With trembling hands, I reached down and gently picked it up, turning it over.

The image was an old family portrait, one I recognized from the manor's many antiquities. A man and woman, clearly the former owners before my grandparents bought it, smiled warmly alongside a young boy who couldn't have been more than ten years old. They looked so happy, their faces frozen in time.

I've never seen this photo before.

Where did it come from?

As my gaze traveled over the delicate frame, I noticed a hairline fracture running through the glass, as if something had struck it and caused it to tumble from its resting place. But what could have dislodged it with such force to not only knock it down but shatter that solid vase as well?

A chill ran down my spine as my mind raced with possibilities.

Could it have been...

No, that's impossible.

Ghosts aren't real. Are they?

Had someone, or something, been in the manor while I was sleeping?

The thought made my blood run cold.

Pull yourself together.

There has to be a logical explanation for this.

I quickly gathered the shattered shards, securing the broken frame safely aside. My heart still pounded wildly in my chest as I double and triple-checked that all the doors and windows were secure before finally allowing myself to retreat back to my bedroom.

Everything's locked. You're safe.

It was probably just the wind... somehow.

As I settled into bed once more, I clutched the tattered family photo close, unable to shake the uneasy feeling that I wasn't as alone in this manor as I had thought. Memories of days gone by seemed to linger in every nook and cranny, whispering of a past I knew nothing about.

What other secrets do these walls hold?

And more importantly, will I be able to sleep tonight?

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(549 Words)