The Silence Of A Nocturnal Seranade || A Yandere Story

《02》Lifeless living

Life felt dreary in weakened states of drained time I long lost count of, the world quite small and drowning in silence barely broken by crackling embers of mild warmth.

Soft and cold and damp and dead.

Lonely eyes were still, pushed down by heavy lids to gaze at the same floorboards and the same walls I'd been cooped up in for over seven hundred days.

Seven hundred and thirty seven days — possibly more if my memory was truly that tattered.
One could feel the seasons slipping by; the spring lost to summer, which faded to fall, and withered to winter.

The sun was desperate in gentle raisings, warmth wanting to be held close as light filtered through that dark blue sky.

Gentle and calm and quiet and carefully crafted.

My skin was lonely without the warm touch of...well anyone. Only strong and calloused hands left their marks on pale canvas, like the workings of an artist on their greatest muse. Lungs were empty with air I found stale and pointless to take — dull senses that might as well have been locked up in some far off, decrepit cell where no one would think to find me — yet still my chest rose and fell in steady, pathetic rhythms.

As much as sleep was prying at tired eyes, I couldn't drift off to vague peace — how long I had been passed out before my soul returned to this plane...wasn't exactly clear aside from the remnants of night cascading in through the window.

Soft hues.

Lonely hues without companions.

Hands were shaky as I push up from the bed, feet grazing the floor to find balance and my shoulders slump with a sigh.

My soul was sore, drained from effort I was dreaded to call minimal.

...it was frustrating. These walls and their secrets, my failed efforts in tandem to countless hours spent in study, my pent up excuses...every little thing I could think of was frustrating down to the fact I was feeling said emotion in the first place.

The way I breathed. The way I let things get to a point where I considered myself a hallowed husk of wasted time.

But where would complaining get me?

Another. ̶P̶a̶t̶h̶e̶t̶i̶c̶.̶ Breath.

No no no...I couldn't think like that.
As hard as it were to believe, there was motivation — a reason to keep going regardless of doubt.
Somewhere...

̶P̶l̶e̶a̶s̶e̶.̶.̶.̶.̶p̶l̶e̶a̶s̶e̶ ̶b̶e̶ ̶s̶o̶m̶e̶w̶h̶e̶r̶e̶.̶ ̶

The dull room sparked memories of the male who wasn't there — his absence leading my tail to flicker as slender fingers grazed under the top hem of my bodice — a moment of doubt quickly washed over.
A sigh.
Was it guilt fanning anxious flames?

A creaked step ̶s̶t̶a̶r̶t̶l̶e̶d̶ ̶m̶y̶ ̶h̶e̶a̶r̶t̶ ̶i̶n̶t̶o̶ ̶m̶o̶t̶i̶o̶n̶ snapped my gaze to the door, his frame looming like the consequences of one's actions.
He didn't say much at all as he entered, but his eyes did all the speaking for him.

I spare a glance. Gaze down. Eyes drawn up.

He feigns a smile.
His hand takes mine, lulling me away from sleep and safety and I did little to protest his will.

I was dazed with exhaustion as he led me to the front, main room of the cabin — tired eyes downcast and metal chains slinked behind me.
It was a small but open space parted with simple colors across warm tones of dark browns and tans, an intriguing blend of homeliness amidst a subtle chill left in the early air.