Offenderman Chronicles

Chapter Thirteen

Offenderman's POV

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It felt like Karelia had been playing this fucking game forever. I eyed the screen critically- despite my lack of eyes- casting a glance back to her. "Ya really know how to waste my time, huh?"

She gave a strained chuckle, adjusting her position on the bed. It gave a creaking sound under her movement. She paused, seeming to think about something for a moment, before setting the controller down.

"I think..." She trailed off. "I think I wanna try going downstairs again. With company."
I was taken aback, cocking my head slightly in her direction. She wanted my company? I couldn't think why- perhaps it was just so that she wouldn't become lost in the ever-changing mansion, but that idea was quickly pushed to the back of my mind.

This could be my chance to get her to see Trender, but more importantly..

She liked me! She trusted me! As much as I tried to temper my excitement, I couldn't. I nodded, rising to my feet as I gestured to the door. "Er- right then."

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Karelia's POV
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I absolutely did not trust this vile creature that called himself a man. All I wanted was to get my own food without it being brought to me, and to maybe figure out how to find my way around. I'd left my room relatively little over the course of my stay, and would really take almost any opportunity to get out- safely.

As he gestured to the door, awkwardness stilting his pose, I pulled on my robe which I had left strewn across the bed and stood up, following his lead.

He opened the door for me and tipped his hat. Fucking nice guy. I loosely tilted the towel on my head without even thinking about it, and then we were off.

"... Where do you think we should go first?" I asked, my body tense. I really was putting too much trust into this guy. I could only hope that his distress about actually hurting me was sincere.

"Actually, there's someone I'm bringin' you to meet." He grinned at me with that over-eager, shark-toothed grin and I shuddered, trying to hide my appalled reaction as much as possible. "M'brother, in fact. He should set you up good."

I didn't want to know what that meant anymore, or how many brothers he fucking had. Set me up? I hoped he meant in a positive way. I wasn't sure how I would handle it if he was trying to find more ways to fuck up my mind, my body, or what.

Lost in my thoughts, I found myself surprised when we came to a bedazzled door, standing proud in the middle of the a hall below mine. "What- who-"

Offenderman cackled lowly, and without regard for my trauma or issues with touching him, he placed a hand on my back and pushed me inside.

I flinched, preparing for the worst, and yet slowly untensed when I heard the sound of a sewing machine being operated, the buzzing of threads and needles reminding me of Charlotte. The days when we'd be at my house, her mother taking an overnight shift at work, and her working on her clothing in the very next room.

I opened my eyes to see a somewhat tan- compared to Slenderman and Offenderman, at least- man wearing glasses of some kind. As I walked around to see his front, I noticed that he completely lacked a face.
I wondered, momentarily, what the glasses were even for.

"Er..." I trailed off, but Offenderman soon interjected.
"Here's Karelia." He emphasized, grinning at his brother. I wondered how many people had heard my name by now. I wondered how many knew who I was.

"Who?" The man asked. My expression fell from curious to flat. Evidently not as many as my captor would have liked to thihnk.

"... The... Slender didn't tell you 'bout her? Really? The... the one I couldn't wipe."

The odd man seemed to ponder that for a moment, leaning back in his chair as he turned his head toward me for a second.
"Ah, yes. The immortal one. That's not as unusual as you think, you know. I'm surprised this is the first you've come across."

He reached for a pipe sitting on his desk, taking a drag from it and blowing smoke out his... skin? He didn't have a mouth or a nose, but I said nothing of it as I watched silently instead.

"Let me guess." He addressed me, much to my surprise. I blinked, paying more attention. "You want some clothes? I'm not surprised. Those are horribly ill-fitting."

"I-I guess?" I mumbled, glancing down to my robe and the pink nightgown underneath. I didn't think it was so bad anymore- even if it pulled uncomfortably at times. I yelped as I was immediately swept off my feet, held uncomfortably close to the man's body as he pulled out a tape measure.

"I'm Trenderman, by the way." He introduced himself at last, measuring the length of my arm from my shoulder. "I own a fashion line in France. Maybe you've heard of it- Beauté Morte."

"I-" I paused as he measured my waist and my bust, feeling a little uncomfortable. Maintaining conversation was hard enough like this, and having him so close after what had happened was daunting. "I haven't. I'm not French, if you couldn't tel-"

"I could tell." He reassured me, finally measuring my height before scrawling it down in messy handwriting on a pad next to his sewing machine. I hadn't noticed it before, but he had been using a tentacle to write while measuring this whole time.

"Alright, Smexy. You're lucky I owe you." He coughed, brushing off his shirt. "You may leave. Send Slender's new proxy up on your way down."

I didn't have a moment to think before I was ushered out of the room again, feeling vaguely violated.

"Right, right. Have a nice day." Offenderman hissed, clearly somewhat irritated- perhaps by the briefness of the visit.

I gave him an expectant look, and he sighed, turning his head away. "Looks like we're going to the top floor."

A/N: *Sorry for the absence! A commenter motivated me uwu. Also, OC submissions are still open.