Forbidden Fixation (Obsessed!Doctor x Male!Reader)

(S/b)'s Guilt - 21

And in it was a very young Y/n.

Bright (e/c) eyes stared at him from a much too young face. The boy in the photo was holding a dead animal, looking quite befuddled at it. In his other hand... a .22 rifle.

"My uncle used to take us hunting," (S/b)'s voice slashed through Kisaku's trance. The doctor glanced over his shoulder at the other. (S/b)'s eyes met his after a moment of studying the photo. "I'm a decent shot." They then waved the gun pointedly, "Now, walk down the basement steps."

Kisaku complied, turning away, hazel eyes lingering on Y/n's young face. It was so much rounder — so much healthier looking... of course, he was a child in the photo. Nevertheless...

A heavy feeling accompanied Kisaku as he opened the basement door and began his descent. It was all darkness, heavy air, and the knowledge of a gun at his back until a thump and a click sounded. Yellow light popped and flicked on, buzzing with age as it did so. It revealed the concrete steps and taxidermy basement, filled to the brim with dead animals.

They were all... screaming. Jaws agape, fake marble eyes wide with no lid to cover them. From elk, to raccoon, to bear: they were either stuffed or mounted. Screaming in silence.

The number of animals decreased, though, as Kisaku reached the bottom step. The main room of the basement had been left eerily empty as if it had been cleared out recently. There was nothing but an old red tool box, a chair, and a hanging bulb.

"Take a seat," (S/b) ordered harshly.

Kisaku walked over to the somewhat inconspicuous dining room chair. The only question it posed was where the rest of the dining set was. He didn't think he should ask, however. Kisaku sat down in it, the old wood hard and grating.

(S/b) smiled, walking around to face him. The gun was now obnoxiously in his face. From behind their back, (S/b) revealed a few lengths of rope.

"I wanted to do something terribly dramatic, you know. I thought I might have a flair for the dramatics —" (S/b) stopped short, glancing around. "I hate that mirror," they muttered underneath their breath. Their eyes were fixed at a point over the doctor's left shoulder.

Kisaku followed their gaze and found his eyes staring at himself. There was quite a large rectangular mirror behind the doctor. It displayed everything from Kisaku's back in the chair, to (S/b) aiming the gun, to the basement stairs leading all the way back up to — safety.

"But I think the genes for dramatics skipped me." Kisaku snapped his eyes back to (S/b) as they abruptly continued from where they had left off before. (S/b) had a nearly manic light in their eyes. "Y/n certainly has it, hasn't he? He's dramatic. I wanted to make you dig your own grave, but I think I'll make this your grave. So, tie yourself up real tight. I'll get your hands when you're done. Once you're nice and restrained we can have that talk about the truth and then I'll blow your pretty little brains out and set this whole place alight. Sound good?"

Two lengths of rope were tossed to Kisaku's feet. The man glanced downward at them before looking back up — right into the barrel of (S/b)'s pistol.

"Let's be quick," they snapped.

With trembling fingers, Kisaku complied, tying his ankles — not tightly. He had a modicum of hope. That he'd be able to escape — to talk his way out of this.

In order to do that, though, he needed (S/b) talking.

After he was finished, (S/b) came around and tied his hands behind his back. He flinched as their cold fingers touched him. It was nothing like the fiery touch of Y/n's hands.