Finding a Yandere in Reverse World

The steam from our shower still clings to our skin as Erica and I pad into the bedroom, our feet leaving damp prints on the floor. The dim glow of the chandelier casts long shadows across the room, making Erica’s towel-clad figure look even more imposing than usual.

I plop down on the edge of the massive four-poster bed, the mattress sinking under my weight. Erica follows suit, her thigh brushing against mine as she settles beside me. The contact sends a shiver through me that has nothing to do with being wet and chilly.

“So,” Erica says, arching an eyebrow at me. “You gonna tell me what’s got you so worked up, or do I gotta beat it outta ya?” Her tone is gruff, but there’s a softness in her eyes that makes my heart do a little flip.

I take a deep breath, steeling myself. This is it. The moment of truth. Either she’ll believe me, and we can face this insanity together, or she’ll think I’ve lost my shit and have me chained up in the basement. Fifty-fifty shot, really.

‘Kind of a win-win when I think about it really.’

“Erica,” I begin, reaching out to cup her face in my hands. Her skin is warm and slightly damp under my palms. “I need to tell you something, and I need you to understand that I’m not lying. No matter how batshit insane it sounds.”

She narrows her eyes but doesn’t pull away. “Alright, spill it, lover boy. What’s got your balls in a twist?”

I take another deep breath, my mind racing. How do you tell someone you’ve been transported to a parallel universe where everything is ass-backwards? Maybe I should’ve prepared a PowerPoint presentation or something.

“Okay, here goes,” I say, my voice barely above a whisper. “I’m... not from here. And by ‘here,’ I don’t mean Salem. I mean this world. Where I come from, everything is different. The gender roles are reversed. Men tend to take more dominant roles, and women tend to be the home makers. I mean they’re more equal now but its the opposite of here basically.”

I pause, watching Erica’s face carefully for any sign that she’s about to call the women in white coats. But she just stares at me, her expression unreadable.

Erica’s eyes widen, her grip on my hand tightening. The room suddenly feels too small, the air thick and heavy. Outside, a distant roll of thunder echoes as if the universe itself is responding to my revelation.

“Jason,” she says slowly, her voice barely above a whisper, “what the fuck are you talking about?”

Erica’s face cycles through a kaleidoscope of emotions - confusion, disbelief, anger, fear. She stands up abruptly, pacing the room like a caged tiger. Her damp hair leaves a trail of droplets on the floor, catching the light like scattered diamonds.

“So you’re telling me,” she says, her voice trembling slightly, “that you’re from some parallel universe where men are in charge? And what, you just... appeared here one day?”

I nod, relief flooding through me that she’s at least entertaining the idea. “Yeah, pretty much. One day, I was in my world; the next, I woke up here, and it was weird.”

I take a deep breath, trying to steady my nerves as Erica’s piercing gaze bores into me.

“Look, I know this sounds crazy,” I begin, my voice cracking slightly. “But I swear I’m telling you the truth. The reason I kept this from you is because, well, I didn’t think you’d believe me. I mean, come on, who would?”

Erica’s eyebrow arches skeptically. “You’re right. It does sound crazy. But continue.”

“Okay, so you remember Louis Hill, right?” I ask, grasping at straws.

A flicker of recognition passes over Erica’s face. “Ahh yes, the town slut? What about him?”

I wince at her harsh description, even though I know it’s how most people see Louis here. “Yeah, him. Well, he’s actually from my world, too. That’s why he’s seen as such a... uh, slut here. In our world, it’s normal for guys to be horny like that. Just like how women are here.”

Erica’s eyes narrow dangerously. “Are you trying to tell me that in your supposed ‘world,’ men are the ones chasing after women like desperate dogs?”

I nod vigorously, relieved she’s starting to get it. “Exactly! It’s completely flipped from here. Men usually propose too!”

Erica looks at me with disbelief. “This is ridiculous,” she snaps, pacing back and forth. “Do you honestly expect me to believe any of this?”

“Look, I get it,” I say, my voice barely above a whisper. “It’s a lot to take in. Hell, I’m still trying to wrap my head around it myself. But here’s the thing...” I pause, swallowing hard. “I didn’t think Louis and I were enough evidence either. Two guys claiming to be from another world? Sounds like a couple of morons.”

Erica’s eyebrow arches slightly, but she remains silent, her arms crossed tightly over her chest.

I continue, my words tumbling out faster now. “But something happened today that changed everything. A girl shifted over from my world. Her name’s Riley, and get this, she apparently dates the alternate me.”

The room falls eerily silent. Even the usual creaks and groans of the old mansion seem to hold their breath.

“Riley?” she repeats, her voice barely audible. “As in Riley Murphy? The star athlete?”

Erica’s eyes narrow, her lips pressing into a thin line. She stares at me for what feels like an eternity, the silence in the room growing thick and oppressive. I can almost see the gears turning in her head, processing this impossible information.

“Jason,” she finally says, her voice low and dangerous, “do you have any idea how absolutely batshit insane you sound right now?”

I wince, feeling my heart sink. “I know it sounds crazy, but—”

“Crazy?” Erica cuts me off, her voice rising. “Crazy doesn’t even begin to cover it! Parallel universes? Gender-swapped realities? You’re talking like a goddamn schizophrenic!”

She runs her hands through her damp hair, leaving it sticking up in wild blonde spikes. The chandelier light catches on the droplets still clinging to her skin, making her shimmer like some ethereal, angry goddess.

“Jesus Christ, Jason,” she continues, pacing back and forth across the plush carpet. Her bare feet leave damp imprints with each step. “I knew you had a wild imagination, but this? This is next-level bullshit.”

I open my mouth to protest, but Erica holds up a hand, silencing me. “You know what?” she says abruptly, letting out a long, exasperated sigh. “Fine. If you’re so convinced of this alternate reality crap, then I want to meet up with Louis and this bitch 'Riley’ ASAP. Let’s see if they can corroborate your little fairy tale.”

My heart leaps at her words. It’s not quite a belief, but it’s a start. I nod eagerly, fumbling for my phone. “Okay, yeah, I’ll text Louis right now.”

My fingers fly over the keyboard, tapping out a quick message to Louis. To my surprise, his response comes almost immediately.

I look up at Erica, my brow furrowed in confusion. “Uh, Louis says Riley’s having a panic attack in the Burger Queen parking lot.”

Erica’s eyebrows shoot up, disappearing beneath her messy bangs. “What the fuck?” she mutters, shaking her head in disbelief.

For a moment, she just stands there, her gaze distant as if she’s contemplating the absurdity of the situation. Then, with a sudden burst of energy, she strides across the room, snatching her keys from her ornate dresser.

“Alright,” she says, her voice tight with determination. “We’re going to Burger Queen, then.”

*****

The lights of Burger Queen buzz and flicker overhead as we push through the grimy glass doors. The smell of stale fries and whoppers assaults my nostrils, a stark contrast to the crisp autumn air outside. The restaurant is nearly deserted at this hour, save for a bored-looking cashier scrolling on her phone and a pair of truckers hunched over soggy burgers in the far corner.

My eyes scan the room, finally landing on Louis and Riley tucked away in a booth near the back. Louis’s blonde hair is even more disheveled than usual, sticking up in wild tufts as if he’s been running his hands through it repeatedly. Riley sits across from him, her athletic frame curled in on itself, making her look smaller and more vulnerable than I was expecting. Her eyes are red-rimmed, and she clutches a paper cup between her hands like it’s a lifeline.

I gulp audibly as we approach, my Adam’s apple bobbing nervously. Erica strides ahead of me, her presence commanding attention even in this dingy fast-food joint. As we slid into the booth, the vinyl seats squeaked in protest, and the sound was unnaturally loud in the quiet restaurant.

For a moment, we all just stare at each other, the tension palpable. Riley’s eyes dart between Erica and me, a mixture of fear and confusion swirling in their hazel depths. Louis looks like he’d rather be anywhere else, his usual easy-going demeanor replaced by a nervous energy that has him fidgeting with the wrapper of his burger.

Erica breaks the silence, her voice cutting through the air like a knife. “So, you fucked Jason too?” she asks bluntly, her angry blue eyes fixed on Riley.

Riley’s face drains of color, her eyes widening in terror. She shrinks back against the booth, looking for all the world like she wishes she could disappear into the cracked vinyl. “No, not this one,” she stammers, her voice barely above a whisper. Her gaze flicks to me, then back to Erica. “The other Jason,” she adds, her words tinged with a mix of longing and worry.

Erica’s eyes narrow to icy slits, her jaw clenched so hard I can almost hear her teeth grinding. The fluorescent lights cast harsh shadows across her face, making her look even more menacing. Her hand shoots out, grabbing Riley’s wrist with enough force to make the other girl wince.

“Listen, you cunt,” Erica hisses, her voice dripping with venom. “The only reason I don’t think Jason’s been cheating on me with you is because he hasn’t had a single goddamn minute alone since I got him back in November. I’ve made damn sure of that.”

Riley’s eyes widen in confusion, darting between Erica and me. “Wait, what? What happened in November?” she asks, her voice trembling.

I feel a cold sweat break out across my forehead as memories of that dark time flash through my mind. In the basement, Lindsey’s cruel laughter echoed off concrete walls. I shake my head, trying to dispel the images.

“I’d... I’d rather not talk about it,” I mutter, waving my hand dismissively.

Erica’s grip on Riley’s wrist releases, and a flicker of remorse passes over her face. She turns to me, her eyes softening just a fraction. “Sorry,” she whispers, pulling me close to her side with both her arms.

Louis shifts uncomfortably in his seat, the vinyl squeaking beneath him. His green eyes dart between Erica and me, a mixture of concern and hope swirling in their depths. Finally, he takes a deep breath, his chest rising and falling visibly beneath his wrinkled t-shirt.

“Erica,” he says, his voice barely above a whisper, “do you... do you believe us?”

Erica’s piercing blue gaze locks onto Louis, her expression unreadable. The dim light catches on her damp hair, making it shimmer like spun gold. For a moment, the only sound is the distant hum of the soda machine and the muffled conversation of the truckers in the corner.

Without breaking eye contact with Louis, Erica reaches into her pocket and pulls out a small notepad and pen. The items look oddly out of place in her hand, like delicate flowers clutched in the grip of a lioness. She slides them across the sticky tabletop towards me, her movements deliberate and controlled.

“Jason,” she says, her voice low and intense, “I want you to write down who the president was in your world. Don’t show anyone. Just write it and fold the paper.”

My hand trembles slightly as I pick up the pen, the cool metal a stark contrast to my clammy palm. I scribble down “Joe Biden” and fold the paper, my heart pounding so loudly I’m sure everyone can hear it.

Erica nods, then turns to Louis. “Alright, Louis. Who’s the president?”

Louis swallows hard. “Joe Biden,” he says, his voice cracking slightly on the name.

I flip over my paper, revealing the matching answer. After a moment that feels like an eternity, Erica lets out a long, shaky sigh. Her shoulders slump slightly as if the weight of this revelation is physically pressing down on her. She turns back to me, her eyes searching my face with a newfound intensity.

“Okay,” she says, her voice low and controlled. “Let’s try something else. Jason, write down who the main character of Star Wars was for you. And don’t you dare show anyone?”

My hand trembles slightly as I take the pen, the cool metal slick against my sweaty palm. The scratching of the ballpoint against paper seems unnaturally loud in the near-empty restaurant. I scribble down “Luke Skywalker” and fold the paper, my heart pounding so hard I can feel it in my throat.

Erica turns to Riley, her piercing blue eyes locking onto the other girl’s face. “Alright, Miss Parallel Universe. Who’s the main character of Star Wars?”

Riley’s eyes widen, panic flashing across her features. She shrinks back against the vinyl booth, her athletic frame seeming to collapse in on itself. “Uhhh,” she stammers, her voice barely above a whisper. “Luke... Star Guy?”

Louis lets out an exasperated sigh, running a hand through his already disheveled hair. “Come on,” he interjects, his voice tinged with a mixture of frustration and amusement. “It’s Luke Skywalker.”

Riley shoots him a grateful look, some of the tension visibly draining from her shoulders. Erica’s gaze snaps to Louis, her expression unreadable. For a moment, the only sound is the distant hum of the soda machine and the muffled conversation of the truckers in the corner.

With deliberate slowness, Erica reaches for my folded paper. My heart pounded as Erica’s blue eyes scanned the paper. I held my breath, waiting for her verdict.

Finally, Erica sighed heavily and tossed the paper aside. “Fine,” she growled, fixing Riley and Louis with an icy glare. “I believe your crazy-ass story. For now.” She leaned back, adopting that classic delinquent squat that made her look equal parts intimidating and ridiculous. “So what the fuck do you two want, anyway?”

Louis shrugged, his perfectly tousled blonde hair catching the light. “I’m good, actually. Just along for the ride.” He flashed an easy grin.

Riley, on the other hand, squared her shoulders. “I want to go home,” she said firmly, though I caught a flicker of uncertainty in her hazel eyes.

I felt a pang of sympathy. How weird must it be to be stuck in some alternate dimension? Though honestly, a world where women were in charge sounded pretty sweet to me.

A slow, arrogant smile spread across Erica’s face. She leaned forward, her voice dropping to a throaty purr. “Well, sweetheart, you’re in luck. I think I can help with that.”

‘Huh? What?’

Riley’s brow furrowed in confusion, but hope sparked in her eyes. “Really? How?”

That smug look never meant anything good. But before I could interject, Erica’s hand was clamped down on my thigh under the table. Her nails dug in slightly, both a warning and a promise.

“Don’t worry your pretty little head about it,” Erica cooed.

I suppressed a shudder, torn between desire and fear. Whatever Erica had planned, I had a feeling things were about to get a whole lot crazier.

Erica leaned back, her hand still possessively gripping my thigh. “You see,” she began, her voice dripping with self-importance, “my family’s got a long, colorful history in this town. We made our fortune back in the old days, through witchcraft. We have a long history with the Arcane.”

My jaw dropped. “What the fuck? Are you serious? Can you cast spells?” I was completely lost in the sauce now.

‘Is that how her family made money, Through spells? Perhaps curses, or hexes? Is that what she’s implying?’

Erica’s lips curled into a wicked smirk. “Oh honey, it was so much more than that. We—”

“Senpai!” A shrill voice cut through the restaurant like nails on a chalkboard.

Erica’s eyes went wide, a look of pure annoyance flashing across her face. “Shit,” she hissed under her breath. Her gaze snapped to each of us in turn. “Not a fucking word, got it?”

I couldn’t help myself. “Wait, wait, wait. We’re just gonna ignore the casting spells shit?”

But Erica wasn’t listening. Her attention was fixed on something, or someone, across the room. I followed her gaze to see a girl with bleached blonde hair piled high in ridiculous curls, waving enthusiastically. Next to her stood another girl, looking like she’d rather be anywhere else.

“Oh god,” Erica muttered. “It’s Mindy. And Tessa.” She plastered on a fake smile that looked more like a grimace.

Tessa moves with an easy grace, her long dark hair swaying gently with each step. Her olive pale seems to glow even under the harsh lighting, and her grey eyes hold a hint of amusement as she takes in our little gathering.

Beside her, Mindy practically vibrates with excitement, her bleached blonde curls bouncing wildly. Her wide eyes are fixed on Erica with an intensity that’s almost unsettling. She’s practically skipping, reminding me of an overeager puppy desperate for attention.

As they reach our booth, Tessa’s lips curl into a small, knowing smile. “What’s up, guys?” she drawls, her voice smooth and low. Her gaze flicks between each of us, lingering for a moment on Riley’s tear-stained face before settling back on Erica.

Mindy, unable to contain herself any longer, bursts out with a high-pitched squeal. “Hi, Erica-senpai!” She’s practically bouncing on her toes, her hands clasped tightly in front of her chest. The fluorescent lights glint off her numerous bangles, and the ridiculously large bow perched atop her curls.

I feel Riley’s questioning gaze on me and shake my head slightly, trying to convey that I’m just as lost as she is. The tension at our table is palpable, like a rubber band stretched to its limit, ready to snap at any moment.

Erica’s lips curl into a tight smile, her eyes never leaving Tessa’s face. “Hey,” she says, her voice carefully neutral. The word hangs in the air, heavy with unspoken tension.

“So,” Tessa drawls, her voice smooth as honey but with an undercurrent of steel, “what are you two up to tonight?” She gestures between Erica and me with a perfectly manicured hand.

I glance at Erica, feeling a bead of sweat trickle down my spine. The fluorescent lights flicker overhead, casting strange shadows across her face. For a moment, she looks almost alien, her blue eyes glinting with an otherworldly light.

“Not much,” Erica shrugs, her voice casual but her body tense. I can feel the heat radiating off her, like a predator ready to pounce. “Just grabbing a bite.”

I nod in agreement, not trusting myself to speak. The vinyl seat squeaks beneath me as I shift uncomfortably, hyperaware of every movement, every breath.

Tessa’s lips curl into a knowing smirk. “Uh-huh,” she says, clearly not buying it. Her gaze flicks to the barely-touched food on our table, then back to us. “Well, I’m just here to grab Mindy some dinner before my date tonight.”

Mindy bounces on her toes, her ridiculous curls bobbing like springs. “Tessa-nee has a hot date with a cute boy!” she squeals, her voice grating against my eardrums.

Tessa rolls her eyes, but there’s a fond smile playing at the corners of her mouth. “Yeah, yeah,” she says, waving a hand dismissively. Suddenly, her eyes light up with an idea. “Hey, why don’t you two join us? Make it a double date?”

The question lands like a bomb in the middle of our table. I feel Erica stiffen beside me, her thigh pressing hard against mine under the table. The air seems to thicken, making it hard to breathe.

Erica’s voice is strained when she finally speaks. “Sure,” she says, the word sounding more like a question than an agreement. “Sounds... fun.”

Tessa’s grin widens, a predatory gleam in her eye. She turns to Riley and Louis, who have been watching this exchange with a mixture of confusion and fascination. “How about you two?” she asks, gesturing between them. “Want to make it a triple?”

Riley’s eyes widen in panic, darting between Louis and Tessa like a cornered animal. Louis steps in. “Oh, we’re not together,” he says with an easy laugh, running a hand through his tousled blonde hair. The gesture would look casual if not for the slight tremor in his fingers. “Just friends hanging out, you know?”

I watch as his green eyes flick to Riley, silently urging her to play along. She nods vigorously, her ponytail bobbing with the motion. “Yeah, totally,” she adds, her voice an octave higher than usual. “Besides, I’ve got... uh... a thing. Later. Can’t make it.”

Tessa’s lips curl into a knowing smirk, her grey eyes sparkling with amusement. She leans against the sticky formica table, her long dark hair cascading over one shoulder like a silk curtain. “A thing, huh?” she drawls, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “How very specific.”

Riley flushes crimson, the color creeping up her neck and flooding her cheeks. She fidgets with the hem of her shirt, twisting the fabric between her fingers. “Yep,” she squeaks, popping the ‘p’ at the end. “Super important. Can’t miss it.”

Louis nods in agreement, his easy grin looking a bit strained around the edges. “And I’ve got... stuff. You know how it is.”

Tessa throws her head back and laughs, the sound rich and melodious. It echoes off the grimy tiles of the Burger Queen, drawing curious glances from the few other patrons. “Alright, alright,” she says, holding up her hands in mock surrender. “I can take a hint.”

She turns back to Erica and me, that predatory gleam returning to her eyes. “Looks like it’s just us then,” she purrs, her gaze lingering on Erica a beat too long. “Olive Garden in an hour. Don’t be late.”

With that, she saunters off towards the counter, Mindy trailing behind her like an overexcited puppy.

Erica nearly popped a blood vessel in her head after she heard what restaurant Tessa said. “You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me. I’ll deal with you tomorrow, Riley!” She points at Riley with hatred.

Riley nods like a little kid.

“Why didn’t you say no.” I ask Erica.

“Because Tessa would have just kept harping on us as to why we wouldn’t if I said no.” Erica sighs.

“Fair enough, I guess.” I mutter confused.