Jerome Valeska One-Shots

Mommy Murderer

I'm supposed to be meeting Jerome, my boyfriend, at his trailer, but when I knocked on the door, there was no response.

I sigh and knock again, hoping that perhaps he just didn't hear me or is being a little slow getting to the door.

"Jerome?" I call out.

There's still no response. Maybe he's doing some chores for Lila, his mother.

I huff again, watching my breath appear in front of me due to the chilly afternoon air. Suddenly the cold prompts me to turn my head to where their wood pile normally is. It looks pitiful at best, so maybe that's where Jerome is.

Jerome has been getting wood at this particular stop from a couple of trees at the top of a dry hill. I resolve to head that way, thinking fondly of how long Jerome and I have known each other.

We first met as children of the circus. I'm a Grayson, so I am a skilled acrobat in the circus. Jerome has never really done much for the show other than sometimes take tickets or man other booths. But Jerome and I are the only kids our age, so we clicked instantly and stuck like glue.

We only recently started dating. Up until last year we were strictly friends, even though I'd secretly wanted more. It turns out that Jerome did too, and one day he finally got the courage to ask me out. The rest is history.

All of this I recall on my way to the hill. I'm so caught up in my own head that I don't even notice the screaming until it's stopped. Now alarmed, I rush to the top of the hill, where I notice my boyfriend swinging an axe with abandon into something on the ground.

It's only when I draw closer that I realize the thing he's chopping is Lila. His mother. His very dead mother.

Of course, I shriek in pure terror and panic, which startles Jerome and causes him to drop the axe into his mother's face and leave it there.

This does not lessen my panic. In fact, it heightens it.

"Hey, beautiful, calm down, it's alright," Jerome cooes, moving to take my face in his hands.

As I instinctively move to accept his touch as I always do, I notice the blood on his hands that feels sticky and wet on my cheeks. I scream again, louder this time, prompting my loving boyfriend to slam his hand over my mouth and back me into a tree.

"Calm down, I said," Jerome says, harsher this time. I only realize I'm crying when my tears mingle with the blood on my face and roll onto his hand. "Everything's fine, gorgeous. I was just tying up a loose end. Now the bitch is dead, and we're free."

I shake my head fiercely from side to side. Of course I'm aware of how horribly Lila treated her son. Who do you think patched the wounds made by fists and words? But that's all they were—patches. They weren't sufficient to heal Jerome, as made evident by his murderous actions.

"Y/N, why are you crying, baby? She's dead now, it's all better," Jerome soothes, but I only sob harder, reminded again that my sweet lover is actually a ruthless murderer. "Unless... oh, it's the blood isn't it, gorgeous? Should've known, my babygirl is too precious, too delicate to see such gore. Don't worry, I'll get it all cleaned up."

A sound is made as someone approaches us. Jerome's eyes widen and he lifts me, hand still over my mouth, rips the axe out of Lila's face, and runs away as silently as he can with me in one arm and the hatchet in the other. Someone shouts in horror as they discover the body, but Jerome pays it no mind, slipping into the nearest trailer. Luckily it belongs to the fortune teller, a blind man.

Jerome sets me down on Mr. Cicero's toilet after he closes the lid. He leaves the bloody axe on the ground by the door. He efficiently cleans his hands in the sink and uses a towel to wipe the specks of blood off of his face. I'm too shocked to do or say anything other than watch him.

Once he's done with himself, he picks me up again, but this time he sets me down on the edge of the sink.

"Ooh," he winces. "I really did dirty up your pretty little face, didn't I? And look at those tear tracks! I must have gotten you so worked up! I'm sorry, sweetheart. Let me just clean my princess up."

Jerome selects a different towel from Cicero's rack and wets it with sink water. Then he gently wipes at my dazed face, cleaning away the blood and tears, but not doing anything for my swollen eyes.

"Who's here?" A feeble old voice demands. Mr. Cicero. "I know someone's in here!"

"You stay right here and let me deal with this, doll," Jerome whispers before walking out.

Suddenly it hits me again that Jerome is not at all who I thought he was. He murdered his own mother! Regardless of how cruel she was, Jerome completely destroyed my image of him by killing her. He'd been my sweet, adorable boyfriend. Now he is dark and confident. I need to get out of here.

I notice a small window in the bathroom I'm in. I slam into motion, ripping the window open and leaping through it like I'm performing a show. I hit the ground running and stay that way, not even trying to be sneaky. I want to draw attention to myself so that if Jerome comes after me, hopefully someone will see and do something.

Unfortunately Mr. Cicero's trailer is pretty far off from everyone else, so Jerome is able to catch me before I reach an area where there's people. Something sticky is over my mouth before I can scream. Where'd he get duct tape from?

"Now what did I say, doll? We'll have to deal with your disobedience later. I got things worked out with Mr. Cicero—no thanks to you—so now it's time for us to go home," Jerome scolds, sounding nonchalant.

I begin to cry again, really and truly terrified by the man my boyfriend has become. Jerome wraps duct tape around my wrists, careful to cover them with my sleeves first so there's no chafing—again, where did he find it?

There's no more time to think about where he's getting all of this duct tape because the next thing I know, I'm being thrown over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. I whimper. What is he going to do with me?

Soon enough Jerome's steps slow and then I hear a door being opened. I watch as the rooms of Jerome's trailer pass me on the way to his bedroom. He lays me down on his bed and I immediately start scooting away. Jerome scoffs before dragging me back to him by the heels.

"Come on now, gorgeous," he rolls his eyes. "Are you really going to continue being this difficult?"

I do nothing but sob, unable to even do that properly with my mouth taped.

"Now I have to go clean up the evidence, and can I trust you to stay here loose all by yourself? No, clearly not," Jerome states, having a conversation with himself. "So..."

He walks over to his chest of drawers and pulls out a pair of clean socks. I just cock my head at his actions. Jerome comes back to me and begins unwrapping my hands. "Be good," he warns sternly. All I can do is nod shakily as he takes the rest of the duct tape off of my wrists.

I keep myself pliant as I watch him pull the socks onto my hands and over the sleeves of my jacket. I remain puzzled until he wraps more duct tape around my wrists and over the socks. Then he pushes my socked hands together and wraps even more tape around them, making them useless.

Then he picked me up again, this time bridal style and carried me over to his tiny closet. He set me down in the floor and moved towards the door.

"I know how you hate the dark, princess, so I'll leave the light on," Jerome comforted. "I'll be back soon."

And all I could do was sit and cry softly as he closed the door.

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Word Count: 1420
Part Two anyone? Vote and comment if so! Requests are open!
Gingy