Chapter 29: Pity Me. I Am A Monster.

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Close my eyes, just.... close my eyes, and when I open them, I'll be free............free at last,..... just after this brief nap.

He's taken it beyond far, didn't he. Not only had he taken it to tormenting me but raising the diabetic levels to an all time maximum? With his... with his stupid smile acting like everything is wonderful, with implanting this tumor inside of my gut then keeping me in this pointed room for months and months and months and months and months and months and months, all alone with no one to talk to but him.

Then last night when his brother had snook in, he had pitied me. He told me that it would just be me and him, that he would finally snag me out, he had his eyes to the floor, his hands on my lumped abomination. With this small vile, this small Russian vile, I would no longer be an Ophelia, I would be dead legally for 24 hours, and so would that thing crawling around in my stomach. I hoped that it would die in there. I would be set inside a coffin and once everyone was gone, that name... her name.. Eve wasn't it... she would take the garbage out to the airport where his brother would wait at last.

I would no longer be an Ophelia then, I would be some messed up Juliet. The covers feel so warm on my cold skin. Once I awake from my casket, everything will be fine.. I'll be free...... free.......... but... what does that mean again................. 

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The clock had chimed ten times as the sun lit the scene through the windows. And so, with her cold stiff hands in his, her eyes, eyelids shut, her jaw kept shut with the small silk pillow set underneath her neck, he stared down at her corpse in there in the small thin casket. She had been put in the living room where he stared at her for hours blankly, emotionless. Through all this sorrow he felt, all the brimming torture he had felt, he had no more tears to give, so he only looked down at her. It was all he could do except that. Pity the widow.

Her body. Your body was so cold. The bacteria in your body was starting to feast on your organs as the putrid scent had been wafted away by the crowds of candles in the house. For a few minutes, his brother stared at him with a broken heart, he had been betraying his greatest friend, greatest accomplice and for what?.... it  was for the best, wasn't it. Pity the widow.

The clock had strummed six more times as only the candles were burning their last few wicks through the melted deformed wax. No one was left to pity him. Not even the guards dared to sneak a beer from the fridge or stand by the doors, as everyone had held their breath.  He picked up your pale and fading body, stiff like a board from the rigor mortis, you had been no ghost to carry. Pity the widow.

With slow, careful steps, he laid you into the floating cuddy cabin. After everything... was he the monster? His impossible breaths were shaky as he took you two as far as he could into the water, thinking, praying that you would just pop back to life right now, he had pleaded
Please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please dear god please please please please please please please please please  please please please please please please please please please please please please please please  please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please
Like a record. His heart raced thinking about the first time he saw you, all the way up to what would be the last. Taking his two bony arms, he wrapped them around you into a pathetic embrace.  And finally in this pale moonlight, as I taunted him again and again, the girl with no husband pushed him into the deathly waters, with you weighing him down, with your breathless body. And with his broken heart. You two sunk down easily as the cold water had punctured him like nails. Pity the man. He is no monster.

As your eyes opened, the dust had blinded you in the freezing water. You had no breaths, nor the energy to pick yourself back up. You were hopeless from the start, weren't you. And so you died with him there, a body in the bottom of the lake with dust blanketing over you. Your story ends here. Pity the man. He is no monster. 

Please forgive me...... please. Pity me. I am a monster. 

Through The Mouth (Yandere Mafiatale SansX Reader) SECOND ACTWhere stories live. Discover now