~Creepypasta x Reader (One shots)~ Completed

Homicidal Liu Part Two (Lemon)

"The dark shadow beckons
It calls insidiously from the corners
Whispering little temptations"

Colour stained the inside of your eyelids, a kaleidoscope of shades that faded and bleached to white as the strains of your dreams faded with each passing moment, the shiver of ice slipping down your spine as the waking world washed coolly over your stirring subconscious from the marvellously warm dark that embraced you. A low groan gathered at the back of your throat, an uncomfortable dryness inflaming its inner walls as your brittle tongue ran over your chapped lips, confused at the horrid thirst that not even your own saliva could alleviate. The pleasant numbness of slumber began to slip away, sliding off your skin like drops of water your parched mouth yearned for as your senses began to rouse.

"Drawing me deeper into the tunnel
So deep that the shadow that once lurks behind me
starts to climb up around me,"

The pain hit first: the horrible, intense ache of rusty knives slicing through trembling muscles as the agony lanced through your system –white hot like a poker impaled to flesh as every inch of your body burned bright with the sensation. Mind reeling from the overload of torment delivering a strong right hook to the nervous system, your eyes immediately tore open, panic and confusion ripping through your system in a rake of talons that drew blood you couldn't spare as your vision met with thick smothering darkness in a veil of red-smeared ink. The shadows thickened like blood before your dazed (e/c) eyes, adrenaline pumping through your veins with feverish frenzy as you blinked rapidly, waiting for your vision to adjust.

"over my shoulders
till it turns to face me
and overwhelms me."

The air was murky and stale, almost mouldy to the senses as you drew in humid draughts, the unseemly scent of something metallic stirring recognition you shoved aside as you squinted at the air before you, heart pounding almost mockingly loud in your chest as if it understood something you had yet to fully grasp. Slowly but surely, the wall of ebony broke apart into silhouettes, stingy gleams of light providing the vaguest illumination to what this space held –and the temperature plummeted to freezing, condensing the very air in your lungs to frigid dense oxygen that was almost painful to breathe as the trepidation in your gut roared to life.

It was if somebody had hit a light switch behind your eyes, your surroundings suddenly as clear as day as your eyes widened in unbridled terror, sweeping through your environment as the horrible metallic scent laced with must suddenly registered in your head and identified: the stench of blood and death. Planks of soiled, scuffed aged wood made up the floor in a sea of unsightly dirty chestnut. Pillars of mahogany reached up to the ceiling that comprised of naked wooden framework and plaster, a bare lightbulb dead where it hung up ahead. The walls were comprised of naked rust red brick, chipped and dust-riddled from years of darkness and stained with seedy dry splatters that you didn't want to think of. Steel cuffs hung with ominous silver glint from the surface, tarnished with dried crimson along the edges where they awaited their next victim to secure to the surface. The area was spacious and echoing but windowless and grimy with age –emanating the stench of the victims that endured its inky holds over its lifespan.

But that wasn't what made you blood curdle in your veins, what had ice slithering over your entails like fanged serpents ready to pierce flesh with their corrosive venom, what had the sweat already began to bead upon your brow in turbulent anxiety as the insight of recollection began to lick the edges of your vision –threatening to leap up to sink its talons into you and drag you down into the putrid, oily depths. What did was a rather simple item: a table.