one car, two car, red car, blue car.
wayv + riize — smut. dead dove, do not eat. death! implied stalker. overworked!reader. slight hallucinations from lack of sleep.
You hadn’t slept in days, work consuming your every waking hour. Sleep deprivation was bound to take its course if you weren’t to rest your head against some variant of a pillow. Overworked and severely underpaid, you were simply happy to be home.
Shoes left abandoned by the front door, you’d go through the motions — body on autopilot as it hauled itself further into the dark apartment. Shadows casting on the floor and stretching onto the walls from the street lights. A yellow ghastly glow casting over the furniture.
Throwing your work bag, it slumped against the couch as you walked through the room. Experiencing an intense form of mind fog, the thought of sleep was really the only thought you had. Pushing open your bedroom door, a breeze rushed from the opened-framed and covered your body with small goosebumps. It sent a chill down your spine but you’d continue to move inside. Unbothered.
You would change, slowly peeling off work clothes and replacing the clothing with pajamas. The longer you lingered, the more you realized just how eerily frigid the room was. Glancing around, the space was shrouded in darkness — but from what you could see, the window was cracked. Just enough for the cold winds of the outside world to seep into your enclosed space.
You went to close it, putting all your weight onto the old window until it gave out and closed. A loud thud bouncing off the walls as the window slammed shut. Humming to yourself, satisfied, you looked outside one last time. Eyes glazing over the line of cars parked outside.
Red, white, white, black, blue...blue?
A red oldsmobile cutlass, you’d had never seen the car on the block. But yet again, you had barely been mentally aware for the last week or three. Staring at the vehicle, your brain told you to forget about it. Dismiss it.
Forgetting about the vehicle while slipping into bed, the sheets were as if they were coated in a blanket of ice. The chill making your back arch up slightly at contact before settling in.
You’d lay there for a while, waiting for sleep to come and take over. Drag you into an unconscious state of mind, give your brain a break. But it wouldn’t.
Or maybe you couldn’t let it.
As you laid in bed, staring at your closet — you couldn’t ignore the set of eyes that stared back at you from the crack. Sure, you would try and try to pass it off as your mind playing tricks on him, you were just seeing things. It had been so long since you had a solid night of sleep and maybe, just maybe, it was a piece of clothing-
Did it just move?
The set of eyes moved further into the closet, the door creaking open slightly — and they’d appear again. This time accompanied by a smile. A freakishly wide, toothy grin with a set of eyes.
Your body went into fight or flight — but you froze. You had froze and the door creaked open. Fingers, wrapping around the doorframe as the man in your very closet slowly stepped into the light. A foot, then another one. Connected to a leg, connected to a torso.
He’d slowly reveal himself.
But who exactly was he? You had never seen his face until this night, although see was an understatement. No matter how frightened you were, your body was still tired. So, so tired. The edges of your vision blurry.
All you knew was that he was in your house. Uninvited. Unwelcomed. Unsettling. Your thoughts bounced in your skull as the man just stood there. Staring, his beaty eyes filling your body with fear — pure, raw, unforgiving terror.
You should have moved, should have screamed. You wanted to move, you wanted to scream. Call out for help even if no one else would hear. You wanted to put in an effort to get out, to live, to survive.
But you couldn’t and that would be the death of you.
— —
The pain, it came slow.
The pressure of a grown man’s hands tightening around the tense muscles of your throat. Your breathing became labored, the muscles contracting as you’d attempt to take a deep breath. Your lungs burned at the lack of oxygen, the organ expanding just enough for you to stay alive. Not enough to keep you conscious.
Unfortunately for you, you were alert enough to feel his dull nails dig into the flesh of your neck. Nearly breaking skin before the hands were gone. Gone and giving you a short window of time before they were back. So close to crushing your hypoid bone, teasing. Playing with your life, the man would let go again.
It didn’t take long for your ears to start to ringing, a laugh breaking through the haze. He was laughing — and it was loud. The type of laughter you get from a real good joke, the type of laugh that makes you grip your stomach in pain from just how funny something was.
But you didn’t find it funny. You didn’t see the humor in this moment, and you didn’t understand how anyone could.
Your hands would twitch at your sides as your throat was practically used as a toy. It wasn’t until the hands didn’t touch your neck again, they instead slid down and dipped underneath your waistband.
That was when you moved. You jerked upright and pulled away from the touch before being dragged back. The grip on your neck returning as a single hand made its way into your pajama shorts. Dull nails dragging against your skin once again, like a warning. Leaving red angry marks in their wake.
You knew where this was heading, and it made your blood run dry. The hairs on the back of your neck stand and your limbs twitch with fear.
You didn’t want this, you wanted out. To run and not stop until your head spun and you didn’t know where you were. Run until your bare feet burned from slapping against the ground so hard, adrenaline nulling the pain just enough to keep you going. To feel the concrete of the roads under your toes, the feeling of being free.
But there was no adrenaline, there was no rush, there was no escape.
There was acceptance, there was digust, and you didn’t know it yet or maybe you did. but there was death.
Held firmly in place, Your legs were lifted and the shorts were ultimately discarded. You were completely exposed to the cold air, making your body jerk and shiver. Eyes glossed over before shutting them tight — tears slipping past the waterline and staining your cheeks.
First came the sound of a belt unblucking, metal unzipping and the ruffle of jeans being pushed down. Then a voice, low and threatening.
“I’m gonna enjoy this,” He’d pause, a long silence stretching before something nudged at your exposed bottom half, “and you’re gonna pretend to.”
You were raped in his own home, in the place where you felt most safe. Violated in your own bed, tangled in sheets you thought looked nice sitting on some random store shelf.
You’d scream and cry. Body trembling as your hands went up to push whoever it was, away from your body. Trying so hard to reject him, to not enjoy it. But your body couldn’t tell the difference, so your back arched. Your toes curled and your voicebox would betray you ever so often.
Your entire body would give in, while mentally your mind faught back.
Until it was over, rough ragged breathing right next to youd ear before you were empty and sticky. Cum leaking onto your sheets as you laid there. Crushed under the weight of an intruder, a rapist, a murderer.
The man got up, positioning himself between your legs once more. For a sick, sadistic variant of round two. Back to the original position, with his hands crushing your neck. And this time , you were truly too hazy to fight back.
The pressure increased, but the relief never came. His fingers never left. He continued, and he didn’t seem to be stopping. That same laugh rang louder than any noise ever could. Paired with the sound of your own blood rushing through your head.
Cheeks turning a ghastly shade of purple, your reaction window was limited to a fraction of a second. The second half where the hands loosened and it gave a glimpse of hope.
before the big squeeze.
Your hyoid cracked, throat collapsing under the pressure — like just like an old window shutting. The crack reverberated through the room, followed by silence.
A gurgle, silence, then another one. Silence.
. . .
Red, white, white, black.
— — —
📢 — HELLO. been awhile, and i really needed a d.d scene. i had anton and hendery in mind while writing this which was why i had riize and wayv in the top. that’s all i gotta say really, enjoy? 🥹
