[18+ Yandere Meowscarada x Reader] I'll Make Them All Disappear!

54 | Instrument of Undoing

As you're heading into the depths of the vast Terarium, battles calling to you from every angle and corner in sight, you notice your feline partner lagging behind. Her eyes are drawn to the ground as she walks a good distance behind you and Cinnamon, her once-unhinged demeanor falling silent. Something's wrong, you can tell that much clearly with the way Meowscarada constantly has her head tilted down. The way her tail is as motionless as needles on cacti. Her strides, brief and lethargic, causing her to step gradually into an invisible gloom.

Eventually, she lags so far behind that you give up on the mental notion of matching her pace and blending her back into the trio. Another battle calls to you, one of too many, and your focus on Meowscarada is completely stripped away. So much so that when the battle is finished and your young opponent hangs his head in defeat, when you turn to yell for Meowscarada's approval...

She's gone.

*  *  *

Meowscarada's losing track of time. She goes stumbling from the canyon region to the polar, her paws soaking into wet snow and cracked paths of ice. At first she's hesitant, dipping one pawpad onto a sheet of ice, then her body pulling back by instinct, and then she moves forward again until she's pressing on through snowfall.

This region is unlike any other. Elsewhere, the skies are clear-blue, like looking into a floating ocean — here, the sky is black, peppered alabaster by fleeting flakes of snow and winds so cold they become visible to the naked eye. She knows it's artificial, a human mockery of beauty, but there in the sky stretches the aurora. Pretty blues and greens and pinks intertwining into a fake depiction of the northern lights, every hue blending into a satisfying gradient against her twinkling eyes.

She picks up the pace. She remembers she's not here to sightsee. She's here to break away from that noise in her head.

"You made a grave mistake, faker. You and I both know it well. Looking into the eyes of a reflection that does not belong to you will only split your soul further apart."

There's the voice. Her voice.

It's been haunting her from the day she was born. Even as a Sprigatito, she heard that voice in the deepest trenches of her very own mind, a sick and twisted reminder that her body did not truly belong to her. Her identity is a sham. After the recent crystal incident, Meowscarada learned something crucial about herself.

Real blood does not pump through her veins. Her heart does not beat with life. Her brain is not built of tissue. Her lungs must be thin crystal strands. Her bones are merely imitation of what they should be.

Meowscarada keeps walking through the icy polar region, and as she stumbles through sharp winds, hugging herself tightly to keep warm, she listens to the voice taunting her within her own mind.