My Beautiful Parasite[Yandere! Various x Reader]

Walter C. Dornez[The Only One I Loved]

{A/N: Literally, just realized this fic has been sitting unpublished in my drafts, and I believe it is complete! So enjoy guys!}

'Love thine neighbor.'

Something I wasn't good at. I could smile, I could offer the occasional cigarette for good dealings. I could feel nothing but mutual respect for another man, and a small amount of adoration to my master.

The only one I loved lived in London.

Rich, young. Noble birth, noble heart.

And did she have the most handsome, and irritating, of company.

________ was easily pursuable, and this, no doubt, irritated me to no end. She was one who believed that everyone deserved a chance to be graced with her presence. Which may have seemed like a quite arrogant thing for her, but it was in fact, one of the humblest things she could have said.

It was true that because her affable personality had dealed her more harm than good, as many of her suitors preyed on her dowry. But it was also true that she was charitable to no end. She enraged her father by pushing her allowance to the library and orphanage near her home, and since there was little to do but read, she spent her days reading to the ones deemed mad by the court.

That was how we met.

I was a mercenary for several years before serving under Lord Helsing. I was very young, and very volatile. I was the equivalent to a charming street dog: rabid and tough, but charismatic enough for the old fisherman to give his scraps to. So when I was finally cornered, I screamed and fought until they could testify that I had the devil in my blood.

__________ always introduced herself to new patients. The ones she was allowed to speak to, that is. I was strapped down and weary from sedation, but was coherent enough to watch her enter the room and curtsy cordially.

She was a woman of no judgements. Murderer, hysteria-driven, or a self proclaimed sorcerer; she couldn't care less. She always greeted the patients the same way, and always parted with a kiss from her scarlet lips upon their forehead.

She came again, and again. Asking if I would like her to read. The first few times I did not answer, and she smiled, kissed my forehead, and left.

And one day, I said yes.

And she read. And I stopped her to ask questions, and she answered and read more. After that, we discussed. For hours we spoke of the complexities of the characters and the dynamics of their situations.

She was my favorite time of the day.

I behaved. I didn't try to bite the nurses or spit at the staff, because I wanted to sit up and be awake and listen to her read.

One day she didn't bring a book with her. And she looked tired, and sad, and scared. I could see her scratch under her collar and wince everytime she touched her neck.

She confided in me that her current suitor was not a pleasant man.

So I asked her, who is this man? Where does he hail? And various other questions.

And so, that night, I crawled into the main sewer underneath the nuthouse, and out into the street. I followed the street until I came across a residence that looked rather new.

I set my wire traps everywhere, ready to sever off his head without him knowing. It was a tragedy. The poor sap really didn't stand a chance.

And though many assumed I had done it, they had no way of proving it. I was back in my bed at the sanatorium, waiting for her return.