Male reader x Yautja

0.7

The song you sing in your head for later.
Your out fit:

For now.

To the story~
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Y/N Pov:

Today was irritating, and my mood won't become any better any time soon because of what happened.
What happened? you ask.
Well, long story short a b!tch thought it would be funny to pour juice into my dancing bag.

Which had my : dance kit, phone, headphones and ready for this. Bet you are not but it had my mechanical voice box. Since I don't usually speak I use that as a way to communicate.

Well, it's more like I shove it down my air pipe then try not to sound like a choking human being. The only good part about this is that I rarely take it out or even speak at all.
But knowing many languages is great, as I can understand most people but they don't understand me.

But enough of being angry. The studio is my view. Oh, I am thrilled to be here again. It's the only place I can relax at. And I know the owner of the place, so I have the keys to the place.

I let out a deep sigh. The one of relief really. The day is practically over, education is hammered into me and people that don't understand me were like b!tchy flies honestly. And I should go home. Yet I don't want to.

The studio is the only place I can call home. My... Second home...

I thought so much I'm already in side in the Great hall. Time fly's when you're having fun...

But the hall is nothing special. It's just a room with dark wooden floor, pastel yellow walls that have 7 or 9 feet tall mirrors to the right of the entrance. The no longer clean windows that are the last light source here. Yes there where lamps and over head lights too, but they would bring too much attention to the place, so I practically never turn them on.

The only thing I am interested in is the silk curtains in the middle of the room.

Seems like the owner knew I would be coming.
As they are the only person who can set these up properly. I need to remember to thank them later. Tomorrow maybe?

Anyway. I am an acrobat. Meaning I do many trick in mid air as part of my performance. It's really fun to woo the children, as they easily think they I'm flying or something like that.

But it can get stressful at times. Just like these. So I just dance around in the air like it's no once business and feel the forces of gravity move me all too nationally.

And it's what I like. The thing that on one will understand. The last thing that keeps me from killing everything on this plant really...

But enough of that.

I remove my necklace and put it in my pocket for now. It'll be safe and I'm not here for too long anyway. 1 hour should be enough to relax... I hope...

I take my shoes off too. Want to keep the silk clean after all. Otherwise the owner would kill me.

At last I'm standing in front of the silky curtains. I remember the song I played this morning. Wicked Game. Sadly I can't remember the artist. But it was a cover anyway, so I'm not that sad.

I play the song in my head as my already stretched limbs automatically begin to climb up to the middle of the curtains. I then swirl about for myself just to let the wind flow by. My (hair length) hair is softly landing on my face as I do the usual shapes and transitions, fancy hand waves and leg spinning too.

All bring me into a small fantasy world of my own. Yet it felt like a distant memory. I don't like my memories, not all of them. If I could I would forget. But if I forgot the lessons I have learned, then I would not longer be who I am. The person who tried to see good and bad things. All in a balanced way. Just like it should be.

But it's never mentioned to last.

As glass shattered into hundreds of thousands of pieces near by, I quickly bring the silk curtains off the ground so high even a 6"3 person with an out stretched hand won't reach them.

But I got the glimpse of some guy on the ground, who seems to be unmoving for 5 seconds.

Then a nightmare enduring growl rips the silence of the room, which used to be occupied by my song in my head.

But dear Gods if you exist... Then what ever made that sound is clearly a demon of hell.

I look at the window.

But.
There is nothing there.

Nothing at all.

But the silence is again disturbed by quiet groans of pain. I look back at the guy. He is standing now. But how?

I look about me, finally looking at the mirror.

The guy wasn't standing...
He was floating

No, he was held by his neck...

"What in the hell is happening?" I thought, rather panicked.

Then more growling, joined by clicking. It sounds far too familiar to me.

But I can't pin point it just yet... "What is that clicking sound?"

Out of nowhere, I feel a tug on the curtains. Not realising I closed my eyes I open them and look straight down, only to see a mask staring back up at me.