《I'm In Love》Bart Simpson x Reader

Chapter Twenty Six: Kidnapped Part Five

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Surrounding all of her was silence, an unbearable absence of sound that hung in the air heavily, and added onto the claustrophobic feeling she felt being locked down in the depths of that basement. The quietness was so complete that it made the shadowy mass of darkness around her seem even deeper. That was until there was a prolonging creak penetrating the silence held in the still atmosphere. Followed by a gleam of light peaking through and illuminating the gap of darkness momentarily, piercing through the air with foreboding uneasiness for a split moment before the darkened shadows returned, engulfing the light instantaneously as soon as the basement door had sealed shut. She was well mindful that he was paying for another visit as he did three other times of the day. The sound of floorboards groaning under pressure echoed ominously throughout the basement as a certain someone descended down the creaking, wooden plank steps. They took each step individually, their footsteps were slow and dragged on tauntingly- clearly drawing out the tension suspending in the air.

“Good evening, (Y/n). I've brought you your meal, as per usual.” the voice revealed itself to be Sideshow Bob, declared as he tugged the string to the light bulb dangling from the ceiling. The light was dim and illuminated a few diameters already of it, and it exposed Sideshow Bob standing there with a plate containing fo

“Is it that time of the day? I wouldn't know because some red palm tree is keeping me held captive in his basement,” she sneered to the malicious male, her tone dripping with raw hatred and slithering passed her parched lips in a low hiss.

“Why, thank you! I really do put a lot of effort into making these crimson locks in shape.” he beamed with exuberance and placed a hand on one of his many curls resting on top of his head, caressing the hair slowly and smiling.

“I hope someone cuts your hair off when you sleep.” you countered, clear odious evident in your voice.

Bob emitted a mock gasp in offence, clasping a hand to his chest for dramatic effect. “How dare you say such a thing! You're lucky I'm a considerate man, otherwise, for that comment, you made I wouldn't be feeding you.”

“Good to know,” you retorted sarcastically yet sardonically. “Can you at least put a TV down here? I'm getting sick of watching the water on the damp walls dry. It's not exactly exhilarating like watching (F/show).”

Bob shook his head from side to side, causing his huge set of hair to bounce back and forth slightly and he chuckled darkly. “Now why would I do that? The date for when we meet little Barty by the towering oak tree in the middle of Springfield park is approaching quickly! We simply do not have time for dilly-dallying.” he replied, his voice sounding giddy with happiness at the thought of the deadline.

“You're disgusting, you know that? You're planning to kill a 17-year-old boy! Bart is still so young!” you retaliated- voice reaching up several higher decibels as you pulled on your chained restraints.

“I've been trying to kill Bart ever since he was the age of 10, may I remind you. If anything, him being 17 is more of an advantage to me because no one would care if some pubescent, delinquent teenager would be murdered.” Bob informed, so sickly that his words made you scoff in repulsive.

“You're sick.” you scowled, a scornful expression plastered onto your countenance.

“I try.” he hummed in delight.