Yandere café || One-shots, short stories, & more

《02》Thearon - Solitude pt.1

Thearon || Solitude pt.1
~~~ °•° ~ °•° ~~~
~(Y/n) pov~

A sharp inhale of staggered breath brings some sense of life to the otherwise silent and still room, a blanket of long, lonely quiet that falls back soon after - the only sound slow, steady breaths.

My body felt stiff, tired; mind foggy of past events and dazed from a dull pain searing in the back of an aching skull.
Hands were pulled on in an attempt to move sore bones - bound behind my back by rope that dug into sensitive skin like course sand grinding on fine glass.

I lift my head - a weak, groan-like sigh showing my discomfort as I tilt it back and my brow pinches, bristles digging into my skin and ceasing the pulling and twisting of limbs begging for freedom. My eyes crack open, looking up at the plain, wooded ceiling above - vision blurred.

The smell of alcohol lingered, was joined by a faint hint of vanilla.
It was darkened, the light being cut off and shut away by curtains that were drawn closed on the windows, giving the room a shaded feeling, but little comfort.

It was stale.

Confusion nestles itself in my chest, my eyes shining with newfound worry as any sense of calm safety vanished like something washed away in a tide.
A weak pull led to a shaky exhale - a whimper - hands clenching loosely as my chest falls and ideas failed to come to a hazy mind.

I lift my head. Calm was needed.

The room I was in was simple - not very big, but decent in size - the dark wooden walls, polished oak floors, and brick fireplace making it look to be something you'd see in a cabin of sorts, with a large front room peppered with three windows.
There were two doors, one sitting at the front of the rather empty room, while on my right and sitting cracked was a door leading to a bedroom of sorts.
Tucked in the front, right corner of the room was what looked to be a vague impersonation of sitting place, with a few chairs surrounding a small, knee-high coffee table. Near the center of the room sat a dining table, its top peppered with a few bottles of different hues and sizes - varying from dark brown, blue, and clear, and a candle holder with a few white, unlit candles.
There was a wooden chair tucked in around the table at an angle, showing the person who had last used it didn't bother with pushing it back in.

My chest felt tight - pushing against the snug, simple bodice with a deep inhale of loosely gathered thoughts and collections.

Vision was slowly clearing as eyes darted - I could only see what looked to be a small, kitchen type area behind me, and I twist my head around once more, trying to find any other item of interest in the otherwise sparsely decorated and neatly kept rooms.

The quiet was settled - a pindrop of noises barely heard from the other side of the enclosed space, and it only added to the nerves picking up each breath.

I squirm in the chair I was bound to, leaning forward as I struggle to pull on bound ankles kept in place against the chair's front legs - weak cries muffled by the rag tied tightly over my mouth and my eyes drift, trying to find any sense of life.

What had transpired beforehand was all but clear - a firm stop put to thoughts trying to drift to sources of unpleasant outcomes. Nerves cried for attention - but soon a foggy gaze landed back on the table and the objects that peppered its top.

A plan was set in motion...time not left to be wasted.

I lower my head just a little, my eyes falling closed as I furrow my brow in thought and jerk my right shoulder forward - and the sound of wood scratching against the floor became prominent for only a split moment.
I shake my head, slowly at first as I huff and jerk my upper body once again, the chair turning ever so slightly.