Lesson learned
Thinking about...
Note: Thank you for the amazing feedback <3. I got a few asks for more Gunther, so here he is :^
Escaping from Yandere Hunter.
You’ve stood in his kitchen for a while now, with a few pots and pans on the stove. The sounds of sizzling meat and boiling water fill the air. A few birds sing in the background.
Peaceful… right?
Gunther left about 20 minutes ago, giving you about 1 hour alone. You can feel yourself angling towards the door a few times and towards the cracked open window a few times more.
Your eyes flick out the window, he must be far enough, you think. He’s nowhere to be seen. It’s tempting.
Too tempting.
Your muscles are tense and your finger twitches. You’re anxious.
Your ankle has finally healed fully. You can remember having a similar accident in your childhood, but that one didn’t take nearly that long to heal. You suspect it was on purpose.
Maybe in hope that with more time, he’d grow on you. He didn’t.
He just got more overbearing as time with him went on. You needed help with every little thing, even unable to stand in the shower on your own. Having to depend on him helping you.
He was always respectful, but that didn’t soothe your uncomfort. It only grew, with every peak, every unspoken word.
He was relatively quiet, eerily so.
Though he made sure to make little noises when approaching you, as not to spook you too much.
His little rabbit, oh how you hated it when he called you that. So you were pretty fine with him being all quiet.
Just a broody moody presence in the room. A quiet promise of security, or well, imprisonment.
A loud noise snaps you out of your thought process, a window snapped shut. You whirl around, heart pounding wildly.
No one there.
A breath of relief escapes you, then, without thinking. You strut for the door, left hand hovering over the handle.
One look into the kitchen. One out the window. No one there. He’s not here.
Your hand shakes, not yet touching the handle. It feels wrong, why does it feel so wrong.
You’re unsure. Then, as if something inside you was switched. You grasp the door handle firmly and open the door. It’s open, it’s actually open.
You don’t think, maybe that was your mistake. Not a single second thought. You’re out of the door in seconds. Over the clearing into the forest. You just run.
Run. Run. Run.
You stumble, almost. Catching yourself mid run and keep running.
You run for what feels like, an eternity. It gets dark…. slowly. Then more and more. Until it’s completely dark.
You’re not a country girl. You don’t even like hiking, never have. Born and raised in the city.
At this point you’re already dirtied from stumbling and tripping every few seconds. Legs tired and aching. Your adrenaline wore off hours ago and exhaustion creeps in more and more.
The darkness of the woods swallows all light. The tree crowns blocking the view to the clear night sky.
Your legs are tired and they finally buckle, you sink to the floor. Panting, slowly lowering to the ground. But you can’t hear your breathing, for your heart is pumping in your ears.
Now you remember. How scared you were back then. All alone in these forests. You know well enough how deep and far they go. The whole forest comes alive at night. Every twig snapping, every leaf rustling sends goosebumps over your now scratched skin.
It’s so dark. You’re almost blind, barely able to see your own hands. Tears roll down your face as you lay shivering between cold dead leafs and wet moss. The wetness of the ground seeps into your dress. Your feet and legs are covered in scratches and bruises.
You’re cold, atleast still alone. No predatory animal on your trail or hovering and waiting to consume you.
Right?..
-Gunther-
His little rabbit seems quite the opportunist. Falling for the easiest of the traps. Cute.
You run and run. Stumbling so often he has to hold back from just grabbing you and taking you back.
But stupid little rabbits need to learn. That they’re just helpless little prey, better off listening and not bolting off at the first opportunity. This hurts him just as much as it does you. But you need this.
He follows. Hunts.
It’s in his nature, his natural habitat. He grew up in these woods, knows them like the back of his hand. It’s almost humorous. You’re trying so hard. That he has to admit. But it’s the completely wrong direction.
His hut is impossibly far out. Only reachable by car. He’s purposely hidden the existence of his truck from your. You’d just hurt yourself trying to escape with it.
But apparently your feet are just as much of a danger to you. It’s gotten dark and you’re still stumbling through the woods.
He’s almost proud of your resilience, but it’s getting darker and darker. Now he has to look out for other predators as well. He can’t have you injured by a bear or torn by wolf. You should just give up so he can scoop you up and take you back.
Back where you belong. With him. In his house, in his bed. Warm and safe.
Then finally, after hours of quietly tracking you through the woods. You sink to the floor.
He waits. You need to learn your lesson, let this feeling sink in. He watches from afar. Close enough so his presence would keep dangers away. Far enough for you to realize your mistake. He is a patient man.
Then your body shivers, rocking slowly. You’re crying. His heart wrenches, but you need this.
After he is sure you’re sorry enough, he approaches. Like a predator would a wounded prey. He’s ready to pounce, but not to consume, just to take you home. Back where you belong. When he’s next to you he speaks.
“My little rabbit got hurt again, mh?”
He can see you visibly flinch and turn around swiftly. The movement allowing the grime and wetness of the forests floor to further seep into your covering. Your thin dress is clinging to your shivering skin. Eyes red from crying. Body covered in goosebumps.
That tiny slip of irritation, maybe anger, that was left vanishes. You’re just a slow learner, he tells himself. But he hopes this teached you.
“Have you learned now? Little rabbits like you aren’t made for the wild.” his gruff voice comes out surprisingly gentle, his accent slipping out slightly.
He feels your pulse. It’s beating fast, way too fast. And it’s probably done this for way too long.
—
You’re almost glad when you see it’s him and not a bear or sorts. But he’s practically just as much of a predator to you.
Everything hurts. You’re so, so tired. You can only nod. Head cloudy from crying and exhaustion.
Big hands scoop you up. Careful, sickeningly so. But you’re so tired. You go pliant in his arms. Letting him carry you back. It would be kind of comforting, if not for that terrible feeling in your gut. The one you always have when you’re near him. He feels off, in an eerie, unexplainable way.
His walk is even and quiet, as always. He is warm, practically radiating heat. You subconsciously snuggle into him. And are fast asleep.
He watches this. Satisfied. You are able to learn, in the the end.
You’ll probably try again, but he’ll be right there to teach you just how pointless it is. He doesn’t mind.
He is patient. A man born to hunt.