Enclosed Perimeters (Yandere M. x F. Reader)

A Menace

Causing the drawer to fall back out of its place, he had it race across the tile and carpet towards her. She stayed in her fetal position. He went over to her and crouched in front of the couch. Drem blew some strands of her hair away from her face, and she quivered in response. Mutterings left her currently hidden lips. "Help, someone please help," she continued to whisper much to Drem's amusement.

"I'm afraid that won't be happening anytime soon, little doe," he answered as if she could hear him. "Now, I just need you to pick up this little mess," he continued, as he moved her arms away from her knees and her knees away from her face.

She tried to fight against him, but it was futile. Once he had her all uncurled, he pushed her off of the couch and onto the floor. A groan of pain left her lips, as she picked herself back up. He proceeded to shove her closer to the knives in the wall when she was back on her feet. Several curse words exited her mouth, but he replied by covering her mouth with his right hand.

His little doe immediately got the message, as she didn't utter another word. She did try to back away from his hand. This, however, only made her come closer to the rest of him. No doubt she would soon feel a strong chill against the back of her. Drem didn't mind, though, if she decided to walk right into him. It would be enjoyable to witness the complete look of discomfort on her countenance.

Then again, it would be much more satisfying if he could actually wrap his arms around her, if he could keep her ensnared in his hold. If he were able to do such a thing, he would be able to feel the warmth from her body; he would be able to run his fingers along her smooth looking skin. Just imagining the ability to feel the sensation of skin to skin contact again was gratifying.

When she stopped moving, he noticed that she was a few inches from his chest. She was so close, yet he couldn't feel anything from her. His little doe's breathing was uneven, yet his hand couldn't feel a thing. Drem supposed, however, that it was good that he maintained some of his senses, like his seeing and hearing.

Lacking his sense of touch, though, was unfortunate, and he didn't even know about the other two. He couldn't exactly pick up a piece of food and eat it; he didn't need to eat anymore. So, perhaps he could taste but in a different way. Maybe if he grew strong enough, he could taste his little doe's fear. As for smell, he couldn't smell anything at the moment. Then again, that might change depending on his level of strength.

Frankly, he had no idea, though. He had just been lucky enough to keep two of his senses. Honestly, Nathan didn't explain much to him if anything at all. Peering back down at the little doe, he decided to remove his hand from her mouth. Still, he shoved her forward again. Drem wasn't going to give her a break until she cleaned up the knives.

(F/n) had once again lost her confidence in this fight. She had been defiant and had thought that it had worked by some miracle. Instead, she was sorely mistaken. The knives wouldn't have hit her if she even hadn't ducked, but the warning was clear enough: pick up the knives or else. Personally, she doubted that she would receive another warning, and if she did, it most likely wouldn't be as lax as the last one.

Whatever was in the house was now pissed off, or at least she thought it was. It had kept shoving her around like a ragdoll and sending highly unpleasant cold air towards and against her. When she had cursed at it, her lower part of her face felt like it had been slammed into a pile of snow. So, she figured she would have to clean up the knives regardless of her reluctance to do so.

Of course, she could continue to disobey the thing, but she didn't want to face the consequences. Her life was on the line, and she wanted to live out her dreams of being an artist. She didn't want to die in a haunted house.

Heading slowly over to the knives in the wall, she extended out her right hand and hesitantly removed one. She made her way over to the drawer and dropped it in. To make it easier for her and to keep her attention on the drawer, which would be filled with knives soon, she picked it up and went back over to the wall.

Setting the drawer on the ground by her feet, she continued to remove the knives and place them into their storage container. During the entirety of the process, she was worried that the knives would suddenly spring out and attack her. Or rather, she was concerned that the entity in the home would strike at her. Thankfully, nothing like that occurred. So, she soon had the knife drawer and the knives, back in their place in the kitchen.

Completing this, she remained on guard. She waited to feel a cold chill run up her spine or to be pushed again. Neither of these things happened, so she steadily made her way out of the kitchen. This time, she would try to head to her room.

Much to her relief, she entered the hallway. It was still raining outside, and she could hear the droplets hit the windows. Some of the dull grey light shone down the hallway, allowing her shadow to exist. She could easily imagine her shadow turning into the being, which haunted the house.

Thunder sounded occasionally alongside the rain, causing her to just want to curl up under her bed sheets and read. She hadn't finished her first mystery book, and she still had her new one waiting to be opened on the counter. Then again, she had more important things to worry about. For the moment, though, perhaps she could take some time to read if the thing in the house allowed her to.

Going into her room, she found her old book on the floor, since she had forgotten to take it off the bed a few days back. She had probably kicked it off in her sleep. Picking it up off the ground, she closed her room door and went to go relax on her bed. If the thing disturbed her, she knew that at the present time she couldn't do anything to stop it.