Yandere Zack x Reader

Killer Sacrifice [Floor B9]

    You had been on the ninth basement level of this building for god knows how long. Each new day was so similar to the one prior that every passing day was a blur to you. Every once in a while a person would appear, but they would be just as common as any other, so you would kill them. Here, the only permission you had was to kill whoever you wanted as long as they were on your floor, and killing common people was what you preferred to do. Every one cried, ran and nervously laughed, and some even struggled when caught, but they were all the same. In your eyes, they were just like any other- being here meant that they had no purpose in life, just like you. The common folk were what you despised. They seemed to plague the earth, so what use was it to prolonge the lives of the plentiful? On your floor, you passed judgement to the unworthy, only allowing those who seemed unique- those who had a purpose in life -to continue on past.

    Today was different. A sacrifice had been announced over the intercoms, and his name was Zack Foster. Being on B9, he was on the floor below you, so you were guaranteed to meet with him at least once. While the name sounded common, everyone knew who it was- it was the orphaned killer who had managed to make it into the papers. He was truly an example of someone who didn't fear taking risks, and was very different from most others- with his bandages, scythe and bloody jacket. Oh, you admired his peculiar qualities. You hoped to strike up a chat before he left your floor, even if he was not the type to do those things.

    In the office you had on your floor, you sat at your desk, twisting your swivel chair side to side with a light push of your feet against the desk. Your office was covered in odd paintings, and even had a pastel carpet with white walls. Needless to say, your floor looked like one hell of an art gallery. All of the paintings on the wall were based off of the lifeless corpses you created with vibrant colours added to them.
    "Gods," you sighed, putting your twisting to a halt with a stamp of your heel, "is he fucking slow or what? It's been an hour, and he still has yet to arrive..." Putting your fingers together as your elbows rested on the desk, you put your chin in the hammock of your fingers and glared at the door. You stared intently, as if doing so would make him magically appear. To your dismay, it was another thirty minutes until he finally arrived.

    Zack burst through the door with his scythe and began to walk towards you, a killer intent in his eyes. He said nothing and only continued. You didn't move, showing no fear towards his attempted intimidation, as you knew most killers enjoyed that. "Gods, door knobs exist for a reason." you teased.
    He avoided the commentary and only came closer. The tall, bandaged man put his scythe to your neck and pushed you against the white wall. He growled, "Where the FUCK is Rachel??"
    To his question, you lightly chuckled, though you couldn't do much with how close his scythe was to your neck. One wrong move and you were a goner. Still, you showed no fear. "Who is Rachel, Mister Foster?"
    Zack huffed, "Don't call me that. Call me Zack, you idiot. Now quit being stupid. Tell me where she is, or I'll slice you."
    Casually, you shrugged, "Dunno. She could be anywhere, really. Tell me what she looks like and I'll tell you if I've seen her~"
    "Uh..." Zack moved just the slightest bit backwards, thinking, "well, she has yellow hair. And a coat. And stripes. She's short, has dark shorts and has dark boots. Also, her eyes are blue...?"
    Again, you shrugged. You hadn't really seen anyone by that description and if you had, well, let's say most of your kills were common folk. They all looked the same and there was really no need to remember them, so why would you? It was a waste of your precious memory. "Haven't seen her. Why? Is she your girlfriend?"
    "No, I don't have time for that shit...." Zack took a step back, no longer seeming interested in killing you. While you definitely were not dull, you were showing no signs of fear or despair like he would have wanted. You didn't seem to be hostile either, so why would he have reason to be hostile towards you? Yes, he is a killer, but really- in a place like this, things were different. "So you haven't seen her?"
    "Nope, sorry." You shook your head as you leaned back onto your desk. Everything seemed to calm down now, thanks to the way things were handled. "Hey Prince Charming, you're a gorgeous specimen. Why don't we have a little chat before you head out?"
    "I'm not a chatter." Zack simply said, starting to walk out of the room.
    "I bet you don't even know the way up, do you?" You teased, shrugging. "Only I possess the knowledge. After all, this is my floor."
    Zack stopped for a moment, though he didn't look back at you. He growled, gripping his scythe tighter, "I can do just fine on my own."
    "I'd like to see you try." You said once more, chuckling as he angrily stormed off. Though on the lowest floor, your floor was very complex in design. Due to that super computer of which seemed to be your brain, nothing you did seemed to fit the standard or be easy to catch on to.

    It did not take long at all for him to return to your office with his arms crossed. He was blushing out of frustration, but that was not noticeable due to the bandages covering his tan face. "Listen here, I can't go up by myself. So tell me how to go up or I'll slice you."
    You laughed, then pointed to the swivel chair opposite of where you sat at the desk. You were still going to get that chat whether he liked it or not. If he wanted up, he would have to sit through your blabbering.

    Zack stomped towards the chair and took a seat in it, continuing to cross his arms as he glared into your eyes. He huffed and asked, "So whaddya want? I'd like for this to be quick.."
    "Oh, I just want to chat before you go." You said, giving him a gentle smile, "And don't go getting feisty either. After all, you can't leave without my say so... Anyway, I just wanted to get to know you a bit. See, most people who come to my floor are boring pieces of shit who had no purpose in life, but you? You're gorgeous. I love the artistic design of your jacket, even if it limited to different shades of the same colour. And your eyes- oh, how beautiful they are. How did you manage to get a golden eye and a black eye? I've seen heterochromia before, but never something this beautiful."
    Zack's eyes lit up, then soon fell with annoyance and suspicion. He couldn't understand some of what you said, and the other things you said reminded him of a specific doctor that he completely despised, "Oh no, you better not be wantin' to scoop out my eyeballs. They're for my use and my use only. So get lost, if that's what you're wanting."
    "I just wanted to chat. Man, you're so weird..." you gave him a creepy smile, leaning closer to him, "and I love it..." It wasn't that you were in love with him- because you weren't. As stated before, you just admired the complexity of his design and that was all. He was much different than everyone else you had encountered before. To you, people like him should be the only ones alive. And meeting someone like him was a golden opportunity.
    "Stop that. You're givin me the damn creeps, woman. Also, if you're gonna waste my time like this, at least talk so I can understand you." Zack frowned, beginning to tap his foot. He then realized that with his movements, the chair seemed to move, and he began to twist it to the sides. He soon stopped, only to find that it had given him a headache- and that was obvious with the way he now held his head.
    "Never been in a swivel chair before?"
    "Ah...nope."
    "Hehe.. Okay, well, I just wanted to chat- nothing more, nothing less. I do have one question before you go."
    Zack then turned his attention towards you, "Spit it out."
    "You may be unique, but don't seem very smart. I know my floor may be very complex and may not know what's above, but whose to say you'll make it out alive- or quickly at that? How will you figure anything out?"
    Zack grumbled under his breath and sighed, "So you wanna make a deal or what?"
    "Yeah... If I help you, I want you to do me a favour."
    "And that is?"
    You shrugged, he frowned. "I dunno yet. But looks like you really have no other choice than to trust me, huh?"
    "....." Zack fell silent, intently staring into your eyes for what seemed to be five minutes. He sighed for what seemed to be the umpteenth time that night and stood up, using his scythe to act as a cane, "Fine, fine, you win. I need to hurry- Rachel's waiting on me, you know. I have to find her. If someone else kills her, then I'll..be in big trouble..."
    "Why?"
    "That's none of your damn business. I agree, so you better start helping me- or you're going to regret ever meeting me."
    "Oh yes," you, as well, stood up, "I will." You had no particular motive as to why you wished to help this killer, but all you knew was he was different and you liked it. Perhaps the thought of preserving his beauty was what got you.