WORDS; 1,954.
TO; Himself.
WARNINGS; Kidnapping, mentioned animal abuse, murderous ideation.
Wilbur, despite his usual routine of slipping letters through the air holes in his locker, decided today was time for a change. This needed to be said.
He took a black pen to the so far unaffected whiteness of the paper, faltering over how to phrase this. "I'm not who you think I am." He wrote, grabbing for an envelope out of the stack he had on his computer desk and placing it down so he could carefully scribble down a name. "To (Y/N)."
This was a plan he was going over since he first picked up such an intense desire to have (Y/N) for himself. Some may call it obsession, but Wilbur knows it's just love at first sight.
You see, a mutual friend of theirs, Apollo, introduced him to (Y/N) briefly over text. This is when he sent a screenshot of (Y/N) off of his social media, which prompted Wilbur to go through that, and whatever else he could find the boy on. Something about him, and the description of (Y/N) was so alluring.
It dragged him in like a fish on a hook, the day that he wad finally able to meet him in person. He felt his mouth swell shut and the air become thin, Wilbur realised how unprepared he was to meet him once and for all. So, he watched the boy from a distance. One that over exaggeratedly portrayed the height difference in the two of them, one that made it easy for him to hide behind a bush or blend in with a crowd if (Y/N) was ever to turn his head in Wilbur's direction.
The release back into water was cruel, yet relieving. This distance helped Wilbur to learn about (Y/N)'s interests, hobbies, menu orders and so much more!
Sometimes he felt ashamed that he hadn't done this earlier.
Now, as he sealed the letter in the envelope with the solidification of his saliva, he could slip it into his bag alongside another one he had prepared for later. It was five in the morning, Wilbur knows this boy's schedule can be all over the place, but one thing he knows for certain is that (Y/N) could never be up this early. The latest he stays up to is four, and the earliest he's woken up at is six. Five is when he would most probably be asleep, according to these statistics.
The hallways of the apartment complex were empty, though his thoughts were racing. Perhaps (Y/N) would magically be awake and step out the moment he slipped this under the door? As he neared that pale wooden door, anxiety came over him like a tsunami.
Wilbur stopped, now in front of the thing. This blockade that contained his beloved, kept him prisoner with that bastard, Jared.
He felt his stomach turn as he bobbed down, lining the paper up with the crack of the door. This is it. He glanced around one final time, the runway was clear and he could bolt away from all the build up of stress and have an early breakfast before heading on campus to do overtime school work.
His fingers had to squeeze under the door to shove the letter in all the way, then he speed walked to the stairs and took a breath as he saw the last stair beneath his foot. That went by faster than he thought.
It was only... 5:57AM already?! Wilbur hurried out the glass doors and down the street to find whatever fast food joint had the budget to be open this late and took the cheapest thing off the menu, putting haste to his morning walk to the university campus as he chowed down on a greasy hash brown that was too hot on his tongue.
As the time went by, he tapped his pen. His mind was in another place.
Wilbur has classes early of the morning, and often takes shifts at his part time job in the evening. But all through class, Wilbur's mind was occupied by his darling boy, (Y/N). He sighed from the fascinating new daydreams that filled his mind, only mildly disturbing his classmates, as opposed to when he would turn up to school and manage to creep them out by being himself.
The bell rung to cruelly pull Wilbur's out of mind away from his beloved and out of his seat, he stood and collected any scattered bits that he brought with him. Pens, pencils, erasers, which fit well in his handheld pencil case. And the designated book for the class, which he handed in to the disorganised pile that other students left for the teacher's discovery.
Not wanting to be held up by morning crowds, he tried to rush with it, but did end up waiting a few minutes to put away his pencil case and get on with his day.
Wilbur didn't have a shift today, so he was free from any responsibility. It was 10:12AM by the time he was strolling out of the building with rested eyes and a smile as he took in the fresh air. It's not that great when you're stuck in a small classroom, considering the size of the other buildings on campus, without any air circulation or windows. There's just those old hanging lights for illumination, ones that have gotten more dim over the years he's been there since they clearly don't have it in them to buy a ladder and some new lightbulbs.
He reached the apartment building at 10:20AM, after having taken the scenic route there. Wilbur's eyes were fixated on the shorter figure he watched pass him by, (Y/N). He must have been off to the vending machine around the corner of the block.
Now was Wilbur's time to strike.
He had never gone up those stairs so fast. Wilbur knocked on Jared's door, anticipating the answer. It never came. Was he out as well? Is that why (Y/N) was out? Wilbur twisted the doorknob, and sure enough, it had been left unlocked. That's not very responsible of (Y/N), but he brushed it off as him trusting the area, something that Wilbur took pride in knowing he would ruin when he saw how Jared was pathetically laying there, all alone.
Maybe (Y/N) was intelligent enough to realise how he doesn't need this scumbag, maybe he got up and abandoned him for the vending machine!
Wilbur planted his final note of the day to (Y/N) on the pillow, making sure it was aligned dead center.
Over the day, Wilbur had built a plan in his head. But this sight was not something Wilbur was expecting at all. Jared was butt naked in the bed. When he passed (Y/N) earlier, he looked like he had messily put on clothing for a quick trip.
He tried to look for the good in this, but it only made rage bubble up in him until the point he wanted to screech down the apartment like an oversized kettle.
All Wilbur did was exhale and pull some clothes on this guy before carrying him away to his own apartment, where he would let him fall limp on an old dog bed that his roommate owned, more so inherited. Wilbur knelt to tie Jared's wrists together and wrap tape around his mouth to the point he clearly wouldn't be able to blow it off with that waste of a breath or dampen it with his filthy, acidic spit which ruins every word it laces.
Everything was now in place for his plan to take action, this was only the beginning. Wilbur had to wait hours and hours, Jared had woken up way before Wilbur could enact his somewhat spontaneous attempt at eliminating this filth from his darling's life.
This served as entertainment to him, and luckily his roommate was in on this as well. Wilbur and his roommate had known each other since the start of their university years and they just clicked, right off the bat. It was likely the result of them both being some sort of an undiagnosed psychopath, which is why his roommate has odd trinkets, like the dog bed, which is from when Wilbur's roommate decided to foster and terrorise a puppy, earning a lifelong ban from ever adopting or fostering from various dog shelters in the area. Wilbur isn't much on torture unless he has a reason, so he stuck to himself when that plan was going down.
Whenever people come over to their place and question the dog bed's existence, Wilbur speaks on his roommates behalf, since he isn't good on the spot. "Oh goodness, he's far too shaken up about that to talk about it." Wilbur would gasp out with a false empathetic tone as he spewed out some sob story about an old dog with some disease or disorder, but the story was always a little different each time.
Wilbur had always struggles with empathy, unless he had a deep connection with someone. That's why he only has a handful of friends, ones who he's close with. And a certain somebody who he wants to be closer with.
This struggle with empathy is why it was difficult for him not to lash out and kill Jared right then and there. "Do you know why I brought you here?" His voice was colder than ice as his manic thoughts imprinted on his tone, the fear in Jared's eyes made Wilbur think the guy could see into his thoughts. "What? Not going to answer?" He taunted, dismissing the fact that Jared was trying to speak through the tape and failing miserably.
He spat out a laugh in the face of Jared as he hovered over him. "I wish you knew how stupid you look right now. And, you've already done part of my job for me! Isn't that sweet of you?" Jared was struggling, trying to call for help but his cries being muffled by the tape and basically bouncing right back down his throat as he thrashed about. "You got pretty drunk yesterday, huh?"
Wilbur laughed some more, amused by the sight of Jared defenceless, yet so hopeful for his escape. "I'm gonna enjoy killing you, Jared."
Tears stung Jared's eyes as he paused everything, every struggle and stared wide eyed at Wilbur. He tried to beg for his life, only for none of it to be heard. This was the most horror Jared would ever experience in his life, Wilbur felt so proud to be the source of it.
Now he could ruin Jared's life the way him simply being in the picture has wrecked his own future with (Y/N) with the blood he would have to spill. "I hate you." Wilbur kicked Jared in the side of the head, watching blankly as he dropped to the grey carpeted floors and even getting a laugh out of his roommate. "Need any help with your plan? I could be your eyes in the sky." He piped in from his gaming chair. "No, thanks."
Wilbur took a handful of Jared's hair and yank until he stood up, since his feet weren't bound together, this worked. Maybe too well, because Jared's first action was to attempt another escape, but he tripped over Wilbur's extended leg. "Surely you're smarter than that." Was the last comment Jared heard before a thud went to his head and knocked him out.
This made the process of getting Jared out of the apartment trickier than his plan, but Wilbur would go with the flow.
FROM; His admirer.