Heavy panting littered the air that haunted the pitch black halls. Light, airy footsteps treaded against the floorboards briskly, desperately avoiding to make even the slightest of a sound. Frantic eyes darted around in the dark, trying to get a grasp on potential clues of their whereabouts. Plump lips quivered in fear as a sudden intake of air was inhaled, no intention of exhaling soon.
Creeping around in the dark was a fragile, petite young female that was no older than the tender age of eighteen. She was frightened as she was young. Her fingers threaded the very being of the plastered walls, her tip toeing akin to that of a graceful cat creeping through the shadows. As she treaded through the dark, the young girl could not help but shake off the feeling that she was being watched.
Those eerily glowing red pupils watched her struggle as she sought to find a way out of the room that she was currently inside. The creeping smile stretching and tugging at the corners of his lips as they found their way trailing upwards, seemingly amused by the fumbling fuss that she was silently creating. The white of her nightgown dimly shown as the skirt of the gown flittered lightly through the breeze leaking into the room from the open window. The moonlight cascaded ever so beautifully onto her hair as she tried to find a door to the room, perhaps to retrieve a glass of water and to sit in a lit room rather than a dark one.
He had taken note of her sweaty, clammy skin that smelled heavily of her own feminine musk. He knew deep down in his own heart of her night terrors. Hell, he was the reason for them to even exist.
Of course, she hadn't a clue; ___ was as innocent as a lamb.
She had been kept hidden under a blanket of white lies as Risotto would cater to her every need and would somehow manage to become her aid and confidant whenever she was a screaming, sweaty heap of bundled and mixed emotions. He was the anchor that held her down and didn't let her mind wander for long.
___ had been witness to multiple accounts of brutal murders around the town of Naples. First had been the case of Bloody Jane, the case where a young woman who was notorious for trafficking young girls and boys through the sex trade, had been so horrifying as her body looked to be pierced through and through by her own blood. Needle punctures were found all over her body. Every inch of her being looked to be stabbed and pierced sharp metallic objects that still resided in her body; just resting there in each of her limbs. What had terrified ___ most was the fact that on her throat had been horrifying engraving in her innocent mind.
The case that had almost landed you in an executioner's room had been the most brutal out of all thirteen murders, lucky number five of all the cases. The indescribable and complex butchery of a janitor at the academy that she attended. His body was dismantled into more than at least seven large pieces of meat, what was more horrifying was his head placed on a pike and his male genitalia dangling below it. The way the blood was scattered and strewn across the room had seemed like a fitting decoration to match the intestines that created an image of gore. His arms broken at the joints and ripped from his torso and dangling from the ceiling and his right leg rested on his janitorial cart while the other had been utterly mutilated. The toes were cut off and scattered across the place. His foot had been cut off from the ankle down and the bottom half of his leg was placed in the water bucket used for his mop. The thigh of his leg had more cuts engraved into it.
Those very same words from the first murder reminded you yet again of the horror of it all.
"You're safe."
Strong arms enveloped her small waist, her breathing staggered as her breath hitched in her throat. Her eyes fluttering closed as she inhaled his soothing yet intoxicating scent. Her delicate fingers skimmed his arms down the length towards his hands that had rested firmly on each side of her waist. His warmth was inviting and her chill was contrasting towards him. Her faint scent of iron and lavender was enough to have him rolling his eyes to the back of his head.
Risotto would never allow another person that he had held so dear to him become another corpse to a body count. Hence why he murdered all of those other persons, that had dared to threaten your safety, ever so brutally and in the process had made you witness it all. He had disposed of that treacherous skank who would toss away her friendship with ___ to drug her and sell her to some perverted screw up or that twisted janitor who had a disturbing fetish of her being gagged, tied and begging to be let go. He had heard it all and not to mention read it from the old fart's journal he kept after every encounter he held with you.
People like them deserved no place to live in a world blessed by your being. No grounds that they could ever dream of stepping on would be on par with your angelic presence.
After all, even a demon such as him, felt that he deserved his own slice of heaven. He'd be damned if he were to allow any other to dare lay a hand on you in a tainted manner.
YOU ARE READING
Like a lamb | Risotto Nero x Reader
Terror[ Risotto Nero x Reader ] [ C O M P L E T E ] | It's a cruel tradition. |