The Red Room (Yandere Male x Female Reader)

Chapter 3

You weren't sure about how long you stayed like that, but it had definitely been quite some time. Your arms and legs were quickly growing numb as you were forced to lay on top of him. He spent the entire time sucking and biting at your ear and neck, surely leaving the flesh pink if not bruised entirely - though your ear felt like it had received a fate less punishing than your neck. You felt your stomach growl in agony. Even though you felt as if you should be embarrassed over the sound you made, it was hard to feel that way if the only other person who heard it was the man who had been molesting half your face and neck with his mouth.

Wow, that definitely could have been worded better.

During your internal cringe-fest, you failed to notice Wolf-man's movement to roll out from under you. He left you to lay on the bed and silently left the room, locking the door from the other side. Your eyes widened as you shot out of bed, regretting it soon after. The blood rushed through your head, rendering you light-headed as you collapsed and hit the floor. Eyes squeezing shut tightly, you took deep breaths to ease the dizzying properties of the blood rush you gave yourself.

Slowly, you opened your eyes and attempted to stand up again. Much slower than your previous attempt; looked around the room, half expecting to see a jar of eyeballs or a severed head. Thankfully, you didn't find it or anything down a similar route as you glanced around the surprisingly sterile 'infirmary'.

It was possible this room was made specifically for torturers that unintentionally (or intentionally) hurt themselves. However, if that was the case, why were you in here and not in one made more for the victims of this cruel 'game'.

"Game, huh..." You mutter to yourself, making your way back to the bed you spent however long on. You propped the pillows up against the wall, leaning against them and making yourself comfortable. You figured you should at least comply if you wanted to have even the slightest chance of surviving, let alone leaving with all your limbs and parts attached.

Maybe this was a game to them. One giant, disgusting game. You wouldn't be surprised, though you weren't exactly surprised people took enjoyment out of this either. With the world the way it is, it was bound to be a turn on for at least one person.

You closed your eyes, deciding to relax at least a little before Wolf-man came back.

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"I'm going to have to kill whoever put my dearest in the dungeons with that mewling worm." He thought to himself, stirring the pot of beef stew. Yes, beef. He would never feed his beloved the meat of the squealing pigs he slaughtered on camera daily. His desire to care for her properly triumphed over his sick obsession of bringing people to the Red Room like livestock to slaughter. He wanted her; body, heart, and mind. He wanted to imprint his very existence on her until she knew nothing but him and his love. He wanted her to depend on him with her everything.

A shiver of delight ran through him at the thought of (Y/N)'s voice calling out lovingly to him. Using his name in such a delightful fashion to draw him in as he tried to leave the comfort of their bed in the morning.

He sighed shakily at the thought of having a normal life and relationship with her. Normal. A word he hardly knew anymore. A word he hardly knew, but something he wished to be again. Since he was forced down here himself many years ago, all he could remember was his own time in the chair, only spared because he managed to fool the man that nearly turned him into long-pork fillet. Now, countless years later, he managed to fool himself into thinking he genuinely enjoyed doing what he only begun to save his own skin.

He turned off the stove and ladled some of the stew into the bowl. He put a cover on the pot to keep out any critters that would dare to try and clamber into the food he made for his sweetheart. Grabbing a spoon, he made his way back to the infirmary.

Unlocking the door, he braced himself, expecting her to come barreling out of the room, but she didn't. He slowly turned the knob and pushed it open. He made eye contact with her from her position on the bed.

"You're not (Y/N)..." He growled out through his teeth, his grip on the bowl tightening slightly.

"You're right; I'm not that little whore yo-"

"DON'T EVER SPEAK ABOUT HER LIKE THAT!" The bowl shattered in his hand, spilling hot stew and embedding glass shards in his hand. He could smell the blood dripping, but he didn't register any pain shooting through him. He stormed over to come face to face with her, grabbing her by the collar of her shirt and yanking her to his eye level.

"What did you do with (Y/N)." He murmured quietly, venom weaving through his words faster than Usain Bolt himself.

"Henry took her." She replied. Just like that, he let go of her collar and pushed his way out of the door, sprinting as fast as he could through the labyrinth of hallways. He eventually made it to the room he dreaded her to be in the most.

The Red Room.

He took no notice of the glowing letters that spelled out "ON AIR" and proceeded to slam his weight against the door, snarling and growling in frustration when it wouldn't give in. He quickly glanced to the side and noticed a fire ax sitting on a broken shelf. He quickly retrieved it and swung it as hard as he could at the metal door.

'Hang on, my love. I won't let any of them harm you."