The Parasite [Yandere x Reader]

Chapter 38 - (The Nightmare)

The walls of the mansion seemed to close in on me as Damian led me to the table, the lingering screams of my parents echoing in my mind. It felt like a nightmare turned into reality, some twisted version of life where nothing made sense and everything I knew had crumbled away.

I glanced up at Damian, his eyes cold yet oddly satisfied.

How could he do this?

How could he stand there and smile at me as if I was the biggest prize he'd ever won?

Two lives extinguished at his hands, and he was sitting here—calm, collected, and pleased with himself.

Am I in the Twilight Zone?

Did I die the moment I got that letter, and now I'm trapped in some eternal hell?

He placed a plate of food in front of me as if this was just another ordinary meal, but my stomach churned at the sight of it. 

The scent of the cooked meat made me feel nauseous. The whole scene felt unreal, like I was watching it happen from somewhere far away.

This isn't real. It can't be real.

Any second now, I'll hear my alarm and wake up in my own bed, dazed but relieved that this was all just some terrible dream.

But no alarm came.

No jarring buzz to snap me out of this waking nightmare. This was my reality now.

"Are you not hungry?" Damian asked. 

His voice was soft, concerned even, but it held an undertone of something far darker.

He picked up a fork, speared a piece of meat, and lifted it toward me, a grotesque mimicry of a tender moment. I couldn't do anything but stare blankly at the fork, unable to move, unable to speak.

Shock.

Is that what this is?

Whatever it was, it robbed me of all emotion, all thought, all strength. I was hollow, drifting through the motions of a life that didn't belong to me anymore. A sense of hopelessness settled deep in my chest, heavier than anything I'd ever felt. Surprisingly, Damian didn't say anything else. He dropped his head for a moment, as if disappointed by my silence, before sighing and muttering something under his breath.

Finally, he stood up.

"Let's get some shut-eye. You've had a long day," he said, his voice gentler than I had expected.

He didn't meet my eyes as he spoke. I couldn't bear to look at him either, to see the face of the man who had destroyed my life. I just couldn't.

I can't look at him.

I won't look at him.

I refuse to see the monster behind the mask.

He bent down and picked me up as if I weighed nothing, carrying me in a bridal style towards the bed. My body felt limp in his arms, completely disconnected from my mind. 

I didn't fight him—I didn't have the strength to. I let him carry me, let him place me on the bed as if I were some fragile doll in his twisted game.

"You know I would never hurt you," Damian said, his voice quiet but insistent.

His eyes searched mine, wide and pleading, almost like a child seeking validation.

How can you say that?

After everything you've done?

His gaze was filled with a strange, misplaced hurt, like he couldn't comprehend why I wasn't responding, why I wasn't falling into his delusion.

"You're special to me," he murmured, his voice dropping to a whisper. His eyes grew wilder the longer I stayed silent. "You're—"

Don't say it.

Don't you dare say it.

"I love you," he said, his voice trembling with an emotion that I couldn't identify. But love? No, that wasn't love. Whatever this was, it wasn't love.

No, you don't.

You don't even know what love is.

"You're the only thing I want in this world," he continued, his desperation seeping through each word. But his words fell flat, empty, meaningless.

And yet, you still don't have me.

My silence seemed to unnerve him. He shifted, his eyes searching my face for any sign of emotion, any hint that I might respond. But I didn't give him what he wanted. I couldn't. I wouldn't.

"Okay... you're obviously tired," he muttered, forcing a smile that didn't reach his eyes. "I'll let you rest."

He tucked me into bed as if nothing was wrong, as if we were just an ordinary couple. His hands were gentle, careful, but there was a madness in his touch that made my skin crawl. 

He lingered for a moment longer, staring at me with that same intensity that always made my stomach twist in knots. 

Then, with a final glance, he walked out of the room, closing the door behind him.

The second he was gone, the tears came. I tried to keep them at bay, tried to hold them back, but they slipped free, rolling down my cheeks as silent sobs wracked my body. I curled up into a ball, burying my face into the pillow as I let the grief wash over me.

This is it, isn't it?

This is my life now.

Alone.

Trapped in this twisted fantasy, with no one left to save me.

I clenched my fists, trying to steady my breath. I couldn't allow myself to fall apart, not yet. Not when there was still a sliver of hope, no matter how faint.