Finding a Yandere in Reverse World

Erica’s lips are like searing brands on my neck, each kiss sending shivers down my spine. The dim light of our room in the Knight mansion casts long shadows, making the moment feel even more intense. I’m hyper-aware of every sensation, the softness of the bed beneath us, the faint scent of Erica’s cigarettes, the slight pain as she sucks harder on my skin.

A sharp knock at the door breaks the spell. Erica pulls back, a mischievous glint in her blue eyes. “Come in!” she calls out, her voice husky.

I barely have time to adjust my rumpled shirt before the door swings open. My mom strides in, Brooke trailing behind her like a reluctant shadow.

Mom’s gaze immediately zeroes in on my fresh hickey. Her eyes widen slightly, but her face remains carefully neutral. I can almost see the gears turning in her head as she decides whether to comment.

Brooke, on the other hand, looks like she’s trying to set me on fire with her eyes. Her jaw clenches so hard I swear I can hear her teeth grinding. The tension rolling off her is almost palpable. After some time, she finally composed herself and returned to having a weirdly gentle look.

Mom sighs as she pulls up a chair next to us, motioning for Brooke to do the same. The antique wood creaks slightly under their weight, a stark reminder of the mansion’s age despite its pristine appearance.

I sit up, the silk sheets pooling around my waist. “What’s wrong?” I ask.

Mom’s eyes flick briefly to the fresh mark on my neck before meeting my gaze. “It’s been a couple of days since the... incident with Lyra.” she says, her voice carefully measured. “We wanted to check in on you both.”

She gives Erica a subtle nod, a silent acknowledgment of trust in her judgment of me. The gesture doesn’t escape my notice, and I feel a surge of warmth towards Erica.

Brooke sits perched on the edge of her chair, tension radiating from every line of her body. Her eyes are fixed on a point just over my shoulder, refusing to meet my gaze directly. The sadness etched into her features is palpable, hanging over her like a heavy cloud.

For a moment, the only sound in the room is the gentle ticking of the ornate clock on the mantle. The air feels thick with unspoken words and simmering emotions.

Suddenly, Brooke can’t seem to contain herself any longer. “Why?” she blurts out, her voice cracking slightly. “Why was your first instinct to try and kill the baby?”

The question hangs in the air, heavy and accusatory. I feel my chest tighten, panic rising like bile in my throat. My mind races, searching for an answer that won’t make me sound completely unhinged.

I look towards Erica, my eyes wide with fear. The panic must be evident on my face because she immediately wraps her arm around me protectively.

“It’s okay, I’m here.” Erica murmurs soothingly, her fingers tracing gentle circles on my back.

I take a shaky breath, trying to gather my thoughts. The ornate wallpaper seems to swirl and dance in my peripheral vision as I focus on finding the right words.

“I... I was nervous.” I begin, my voice barely above a whisper. “I thought Erica might see the baby as a betrayal. That she’d think I’d been unfaithful.”

The words hang in the air, heavy with the weight of my twisted logic. I can feel Erica’s arm tighten around me, a silent reassurance of her unwavering support.

Brooke’s jaw drops, her eyes widening in disbelief. She looks from me to Erica and back again as if trying to reconcile this information with what she knows of us.

“But... but that’s insane.” Brooke sputters, her voice rising in pitch. “Erica is clearly a gentle girl with you. Anyone can see how much she cares!”

She gestures wildly at Erica, her movements jerky with frustrated incredulity. “Thank God Erica was there to save Lyra’s life! If she hadn’t stopped you...”

Erica’s eyes flash dangerously, a hint of steel beneath her usual warmth. “That’s not quite right.” she says, her voice low and controlled. “Jason was confused and scared while you people blind sided him. The fact that Lyra raped him made the news too traumatic to process rationally.”

Her words cut through the tension like a knife, reminding everyone of the horror that led to this moment. I feel a rush of gratitude for her understanding.

“He wasn’t thinking clearly.” Erica continues, her fingers idly playing with a strand of my hair. “It wasn’t about hurting Lyra or the baby. It was about proving his loyalty to me, no matter how misguided that attempt was.”

The room falls silent as her words sink in. Mom nods slowly, a look of pained understanding crossing her face. Brooke, however, still seems to be struggling with the concept.

“But... but...” she stammers, her brow furrowed in concentration. “How could he think that would prove anything? It’s just so... extreme.”

Brooke shifts uncomfortably in her seat, her fingers twisting the hem of her shirt. Finally, she takes a deep breath, her voice quavering as she speaks once more. “What about you, Erica?” Brooke asks. “My brother brutally assaulted you with a knife. Aren’t you at all worried he could do that to you again?”

The question hangs in the air like a physical presence, suffocating and oppressive. I feel my heart rate spike, panic clawing its way up my throat. My eyes widen in horror as I turn to Erica, searching her face for any sign of fear or doubt.

“I wouldn’t.” I stammer, my voice cracking with emotion. “Erica, I swear, I would never-”

But Erica cuts me off, her hand coming up to gently cup my cheek. Her touch is soft, grounding, a stark contrast to the chaos swirling in my mind. She pets me soothingly, her fingers carding through my hair in a familiar, comforting gesture.

“Shh, I know.” Erica murmurs, her voice low and reassuring. Her blue eyes lock onto mine, filled with such unwavering trust and adoration that it takes my breath away. “I know you wouldn’t, Jason.”

Then, without breaking eye contact with me, Erica’s expression hardens. She turns her gaze to Brooke, her eyes flashing dangerously. The temperature in the room seems to drop several degrees as Erica’s voice takes on a razor-sharp edge.

“Jaon would never hurt me.” Erica states, each word dripping with icy conviction. “And not only that, but the knife in question was given to him by you, Brooke. On Christmas Day. Out of my sight, I might add, so I wouldn’t know.”

Brooke’s eyes widen, her mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. The ornate clock on the mantle ticks away the seconds, its rhythmic sound emphasizing the heavy silence that has fallen over the room.

“I... that’s not...” Brooke stammers, her face flushing a deep crimson. “The knife pen was supposed to be for stopping kidnappers, not... not this!”

Erica’s laughter suddenly fills the room, a sharp, cynical sound that seems to bounce off the gilded mirrors. “Oh, that’s rich.” she says, her blue eyes glinting with a dangerous amusement. “He did try to use it on the woman who kidnapped him, didn’t he?”

The words hang in the air, heavy with implication. I can feel the tension in the room ratchet up another notch, the atmosphere thick enough to cut with a knife.

Brooke’s face pales, her earlier flush draining away in an instant. “That... that was before.” she stammers, her voice barely above a whisper. “She wasn’t kidnapping him the day of the incident. It’s different.”

Erica’s arm tightens around me, her fingers digging into my skin possessively. Her voice is low and dangerous when she speaks, each word dripping with venom. “She raped him for two weeks with her freak master Lindsey. Or did you conveniently forget that part?”

Suddenly, Erica sits up straighter, her eyes narrowing as she stares at Brooke. “What’s your deal, anyway?” she demands, her voice rising. “Why do you never cut Jason any slack? He’s been through hell, and you’re acting like he’s some kind of monster!”

Brooke’s face crumples, her carefully maintained composure finally shattering. Her lower lip trembles, and tears well up in her hazel eyes, threatening to spill over at any moment.

“I love my brother more than he probably knows.” Brooke choked out, her voice barely above a whisper. The words seem to hang in the air.

“Ever since he started senior year, he’s been so different.” Brooke continues, her voice gaining strength even as a single tear finally escapes, tracing a glistening path down her cheek.

Her gaze flicks to Erica, then back to me, uncertainty and fear warring in her eyes. “At first, I thought maybe you had sunk your fangs into him or something.” she admits, her words directed at Erica but her eyes never leaving my face. “But now... I don’t know.”

“I think something is deeply, deeply wrong with him.” she says, her voice cracking on the word ‘wrong’. “And I think he needs help from a professional. And honestly.” She pauses. “I think he’s probably a toxic for you, Erica.”

Erica’s eyes flash with murderous rage, her body tensing like a coiled spring. “Shut your fucking-”

But before she can finish, Mom’s sharp voice cuts through the tension like a knife. “Brooke! That’s enough!”

The sudden outburst startles us all. Mom’s usually composed face is flushed with anger, her eyes narrowed dangerously.

“You are way out of line.” Mom continues, her words clipped and precise. Each syllable seems to reverberate off the gilded walls of the bedroom, filling the space with an almost tangible tension.

Brooke’s eyes widen in shock, her mouth hanging open. The betrayal on her face is palpable, her earlier tears now frozen on her cheeks. “But... but Mom.” She stammers, her voice small and uncertain. “We talked about this. We agreed that what Jason did was completely fucked up!”

Mom’s frown deepens, the corners of her mouth turning down sharply. She nods slowly, her eyes distant as if lost in thought.

“You’re right, we did talk about it.” Mom finally says, her voice heavy with regret. “But I wasn’t thinking about the full picture. I was... I was being short-sighted.”

She turns to me, her eyes softening with a mixture of guilt and maternal concern. The shift in her demeanor is so sudden, so complete, that it takes my breath away.

“Jason.” She says, her voice cracking slightly. “I owe you an apology. A big one.”

I feel Erica’s arm tighten around me protectively as Mom continues, her words tumbling out in a rush. “Bringing Lyra here, after everything she put you through... it was a vile idea. Completely and utterly vile.”

The admission hangs in the air, heavy with implication. I can feel the weight of it pressing down on my chest, making it hard to breathe. The opulent room suddenly feels too small, too confining.

Mom’s eyes are shining with unshed tears now, her usual composure crumbling away to reveal the raw emotion beneath. “I was so focused on doing what I thought was right that I completely lost sight of what you needed. What you’ve been through.”

She reaches out, her hand hovering uncertainly in the air between us before she lets it fall back to her lap. The gesture is so uncharacteristically hesitant, so vulnerable, that it makes my heart ache.

Mom takes a deep breath, her eyes shimmering with her own unshed tears now.

“Jason.” she begins, her voice soft and hesitant. “I need you to know that I’ve been... trying. Really trying to be better lately.”

She glances at Erica, a small, grateful smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. “Ever since I met Erica and reconnected with Vivian, I’ve been working on myself. Trying to be more open, more understanding.”

Her eyes lock onto mine, the intensity of her gaze almost physical. “But when I saw the desperation in your eyes as you lunged at Lyra’s stomach with that knife... God, Jason, it broke my heart.”

Mom’s voice cracks, and she has to pause for a moment to collect herself. When she speaks again, her words are heavy with emotion. “I saw all my failures reflected in that moment. Every time I wasn’t there for you, every harsh word, every missed opportunity to show you how much I love you.”

The room seems to hold its breath as Mom leans forward, her eyes pleading. “Jason, I need you to promise me something. Promise me you won’t hunt Lyra down. Please, son. I couldn’t bear to see you destroy yourself like that.”

Brooke nods emphatically, her earlier anger replaced by desperate concern. “Yes, Jason, please.” She begs, her voice barely above a whisper. “Leave the child alone. Just... just forget about Lyra. Move on with your life.”

The weight of their words presses down on me, suffocating in its intensity. I can feel Erica’s arm tighten around me, her silent support a lifeline in the storm of emotions threatening to overwhelm me.

My brow furrows in confusion as I process their words. “What? No, I... I would never do that.”

I turn to Erica, seeking comfort in her steady gaze. Her blue eyes meet mine, filled with understanding and unwavering support. I gesture towards her, my movements jerky with nervous energy.

“I only wanted to make sure Erica knew I was loyal.” I explain, the words tumbling out in a rush. “I wasn’t really thinking in terms of taking away a life. I wasn’t even really thinking of Lyra at all, just... just Erica’s perception.”

The confession hangs in the air, heavy with implication. Mom’s shoulders sag with visible relief, the tension draining from her body. She nods slowly, a small, sad smile tugging at the corners of her mouth.

But Brooke’s reaction is entirely different. Her eyes narrow dangerously, her jaw clenching so tight I can see a muscle twitching in her cheek. When she speaks, her voice is low and controlled but trembling with barely suppressed fury.

“That’s almost worse.” She hisses, each word dripping with venom. “That you’re so eager to kill for her affection. That’s psychotic, Jason.”

Mom’s eyes widen at Brooke’s words, her head whipping around to face her daughter. “Brooke, please.” She pleads, her voice strained. “Let’s take this one issue at a time. We can’t overwhelm Jason with-”

But Brooke is beyond reason now, her face flushed with anger and frustration. She leans forward, her eyes boring into mine with an intensity that makes me flinch.

“Fine.” Brooke spits out, her words sharp as knives. “Let’s make this simple then. Jason, if Erica asked you to kill someone, would you do it?”

I shrug, the motion casual despite the weight of the moment. “Probably.” I say, my voice surprisingly steady.

The room explodes into chaos. Mom gasps, her hand flying to her mouth in shock. Brooke leaps to her feet, her chair scraping loudly against the polished floor. But it’s Erica’s reaction that truly catches me off guard.

With a resounding crack, Erica’s hand connects with the back of my head. The slap is harder than any she’s ever given me before, the sting radiating through my skull. I blink in surprise, turning to face her with wide eyes.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Erica yells, her blue eyes blazing with a mixture of anger and disbelief. “You don’t ever kill again, Jason. Ever!”

Her words echo off the gilded mirrors, seeming to multiply until they fill the entire room.

“I don’t want you to end up in jail, you little shit. Do you understand me?” Erica speaks with desperation in her voice.

I nod mutely, still stunned by the sudden turn of events. Erica’s eyes soften slightly, but the steel in her gaze remains. She turns to Brooke, her lips curling into a snarl.

“And you.” Erica hisses, her voice dripping with venom. “I would never, ever make Jason do something he’s not comfortable with. How dare you even suggest such a thing?”

“That’s exactly the problem!” Brooke exclaims, her voice rising with each word. She gestures wildly at me, her movements sharp and jerky. “Jason is completely unhinged. There’s nothing he’d be uncomfortable doing. Case in point, how quickly he said he’d kill for Erica!”

The words hang in the air, heavy and accusatory. The antique clock on the mantle ticks away the seconds, its steady rhythm a stark contrast to the chaos unfolding in the room.

I open my mouth to interject. “If she asked me to kill, I’d be under the assumption there was a purpose. She would never make me do something like that so pointlessly.” I blurt out, my voice sounding small and defensive even to my own ears.

The room falls silent for a moment, the tension so thick it’s almost suffocating. Then, as one, every pair of eyes in the room swivels to glare at me. Mom’s face is a mask of disappointment, Brooke’s eyes burn with a mixture of fear and disgust, and even Erica’s gaze speaks to me, saying, ‘Come on, man.’

But as quickly as their attention focused on me, it was gone. They turn away, dismissing my words as if I hadn’t spoken at all. The sting of being ignored settles in my chest, a dull ache that I try to push aside.

“You know what, Brooke? Fuck off.” Erica hisses, her blue eyes flashing with barely contained rage. “Your meddling is getting gross. It’s like you’re obsessed with Jason or something.”

Brooke recoils as if slapped, her face flushing a deep crimson. “Obsessed?” Brooke sputters, her voice rising in pitch. “I’m trying to help my brother, you manipulative bitch!”

Erica’s laugh is sharp and mirthless, echoing off the walls. “Help? Is that what you call this constant barrage of judgment and criticism? Face it, Brooke. You’re not helping. You’re just making things worse.”

Brooke’s hands clench into fists at her sides, her knuckles turning white with the force of her grip. She shakes her head violently, sending her brunette locks flying.

“You know what? I’m getting tired of this.” Brooke seethes, her hazel eyes blazing. “I’m sick and tired of worrying about you, Jason. Of lying awake at night wondering if you’re okay, if you’re safe, if you’re... you’re even still you anymore.”

‘Oh shit, she’s so close.’ I can’t help but be impressed that she’s nearly there.

Erica’s arm tightens around me possessively, her fingers digging into my skin. When she speaks, her voice is syrupy, sweet, dripping with false cheer. “Well then, good news, Brooke.” she chirps, her smile not quite reaching her eyes. “Jason’s not your problem anymore. So you can stop your little crusade and get the fuck out of our lives.”

Mom’s eyes dart between Brooke and Erica, her face covered in concern and weariness. She runs a hand through her hair, disheveling her usually orderly appearance. The gesture is so uncharacteristic, so human, that it catches me off guard.

“I think,” Mom begins, her voice soft but firm, “it’s time for Brooke and me to leave. Things need to cool down before we say something we’ll regret.”

Brooke and I both turn to Mom, our faces mirroring confusion. The level of maturity in her statement felt like she was a different person. I find myself nodding slowly, almost mechanically, as if my body is moving of its own accord.

Brooke, however, isn’t so easily placated. She huffs, crossing her arms over her chest. “Whatever.” she mutters, her voice dripping with disdain. Without another word, she storms out of the room, her footsteps echoing down the hallway.

Mom lingers for a moment, her eyes fixed on me. The weight of her gaze is almost physical, filled with a mixture of love and worry.

“I’m sorry that was so volatile.” she says softly. The words seem to hang in the air between us, fragile and uncertain. “But I want you to know, Jason... I really love you.”

The confession catches me off guard, a sucker punch to the gut that leaves me breathless. I swallow hard, trying to push down the lump that’s formed in my throat. “I love you too, Mom.” I manage to croak out, my voice rough with emotion.

Mom nods, a small, sad smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. As the door clicks shut behind my mom, the tension in the room seems to dissipate like mist in the morning sun. Erica's posture softens, her fierce demeanor melting away to reveal the gentle, loving girl I know she truly is.

"I'm so sorry, baby." she murmurs, her fingers gently massaging the spot where she hit me. The pain faded immediately after it happened, but her touch sends pleasant tingles across my scalp. "I didn't mean to hit you so hard. I just... God, Jason, you can't say shit like that in front of your family."

I lean into her touch, relishing the feeling of her fingers running through my hair. The ornate wallpaper seems to shimmer in the soft light, creating a dreamy atmosphere that feels a world away from the chaos of moments ago.

"It's okay." I whisper, my eyes drifting closed as I savor her caress. "I understand why you did it."

Erica's arms wrap around me, pulling me close. "I had to play it up." She explains, her breath warm against my ear. "Your mom and sister were freaking out. I couldn't let them think I'd actually want you to... to do something like that."

I nod, understanding dawning. "You were protecting me." I murmur, my voice muffled against her shoulder.

Erica pulls back slightly, her blue eyes meeting mine. There's a glint in them that I recognize, a mixture of mischief and desire that makes my heart race.

"You know." she says, her voice dropping to a husky whisper, "I actually find it incredibly sexy how willing you are to kill for me.”

A laugh bubbles up from my chest, surprising even me with its lightness. "I bet you do.”