Twisted Obsession [Yandere! Izaya x Reader]

Twenty-Two

Running and running you dash across the lush grass and straight for the car parked on the pebble driveway, almost stumbling because of those blasted heels. When you reach the vehicle you skid to decelerate, but you completely miscalculated how fast you were going and you ram into the driver's door, the impact nearly bouncing you back had you not grasped the handle so fiercely. Sparing some indispensable moments you don't even bother to gamble a peek over your shoulder, flinging the driver's door open to leap into the compartment, ungainly spread out in the front seats. Although your left knee painfully knocks the gear shift you sparsely feel the full blow as your endorphins had affected the plenary of your nervous system. You slam the car door shut, locking it before adjusting into the driver's seat. Your pants are hazardously fast, shallow, and you are woozy with nausea as you stab the keys into the ignition.

Thankfully, you do have plenty of experience in driving, then again this model is fairly different to your parents old, beat-up Honda, but you're confident in –

Tap

Tap

Tap

'Don't You Dare Look'

You did, regrettably.

Slowly and rigidly the muscles in your neck kinked, the gradualness similar to that of rusting rotary iron. Your eyes are bulging out of their sockets when you see the informant stooping at the window of the driver's seat, smiling that Cheshire –crazed – grin. His eyes are wide too, but they are swimming with fanatical hysteria. It's bottomless and he aspires to drown you, pull you down until your existence is forgotten to every one – except him.

Thrusting the gear from park to reverse, you stomp your foot on the gas pedal and bring the vehicle to life. The engine purrs while the tires screech in protest, gravel flying about as you back out at maximum speed. Once beyond the gate to on the street you switch the gear, recklessly spin the wheel and then slam your foot on the pedal again, charging forward to venture on this unknown road that was obstructively flooded in dim obscurity. Hums of the engine escalate in sonority, buzzing steadily in contrast to your heart's erratic hammering. Despite the spasms of pain your chest is undergoing from your heart's rambunctiousness, an electrifying jubilance heaves, bounding unitedly with your adrenaline. Part of you wants to see him one more time. To grin, to gloat, to tell him that you've won. The other half though wants to scream and cry in agony, demurred to conceptualize the horrific veracity you had withstood.

Would you ever be able to cope?

Without warning, there is a loud bang, it shakes the whole car vehemently as a hiss noisily lances the transient calm and then, finally, tragically, a pitiful flopping sound syncs with the car's motion. You yelped as you secured your hands on the wheel, trying to keep the now lopsided car straight and avoid a nasty accident. Risking a glance, your eye roves to find the rearview mirror, jerky and wobbly from the impairment dealt. There at the driveways entrance, shrinking in the distance stood the lean figure of that of Izaya and whatever expression he wore vanished into darkness.

The speed at which you were going at seemed to take its toll on the right rear tire, tiny sparks lambent spontaneously, and with the informant, no longer in sight for the time being, you waited unto you attained an ample distance to let up on the gas pedal. It had been a reluctant decision as abysmal panic torments and destroys your barely breathing rationality. In that car seat where you sat, or rather fidgeted, anxiety invited itself to conjure scenarios of the black haired demon materializing from these deathly lapsing shadows. They were casted by the moon's ethereal light, illuminating decaying crimped trees and their silhouettes, in your mind's eye, molded into otherworldly creatures with twisted mouths and obtruding claws. You shook your head to banish those hallucinations of swaying wraiths, but you continued to worry, the high of your adrenaline dispersing at an alarming rate, your gasp coming quicker. Hyperventilation was perilously approaching, the headlights beaming on a nameless road started to double and blur.