swine | ☆

○ chapter 1. ●

This is way shorter than I wanted it to be but I wanted to get something out so.

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Y/n woke up slowly to someone playing with his hair. Or, caressing.. his.. head? He flinched and jolted up. It was just Chris. But still..

"I was just about to wake you up," Chris spoke in that croaky, guttural voice of his, a sly grin crawling its way across his face. The (h/c) male just nodded slowly as Chris's larger hand slid away from his face.

After a few seconds of awkward eye contact, Chris left, shutting the door behind him. Chris was Y/n's roommate, a well built, tall man with long, greasy blond hair and pale skin. He was twenty-six, a very.. strange age to live in an apartment and split rent with a newly-eighteen year old. It wasn't like Chris needed someone to pay half of the rent, either.

Y/n tried not to give it much thought, considering rolling back over and going to sleep again for a split second. However, a gut feeling had him tugging on proper clothes and tying his shoes.

It wasn't wise to go out alone during these times, but Y/n didn't like the alternative either. Chris was acting strange - stranger than usual - and it freaked Y/n out.

So, yes, he was being stupid. Stupid and unsafe. He texted his friend, Towa, where he was going and what he was doing, before shoving his phone in his pocket and leaving the room.

Y/n pretended to not notice Chris's questioning stare, how it lingered longer than appropriate, how it traveled down.. and then the blond's voice.

"Stay safe out there, L/n," He spoke, a grin making its way onto his slim face. Y/n nodded once in response before slipping out of the door.

Chris was a deceivingly kind person, a sort of mask no doubt. The second he trapped you, however, he became a completely different person. Manipulative, sadistic, uncaring of others.. not to mention the random spurs of unfiltered anger, which could range from simple, sudden raises of volume, to full-blown physical violence.

Y/n was not socially equipped enough to deal with those episodes, so he preferred to leave the house for a while to let Chris calm down, but even that was getting harder with the sudden outbreak of violent crime.

Even doing something as simple as leaving your house serves as a constant reminder of the murders.

Walking down the street now, Y/n felt it more than ever. The November wind was cold, stinging his eyes and filling them with tears. He blinked them away as he passed several missing posters strewn along buildings, decorating the walls with the faces of the lost. Some had been found. None had been found alive. The ways of death were gruesome, some of the bodies turning up unrecognizable.

Some of the posters displayed people who were found dead, nobody bothering to take away the paper memory of the person it showed.

The sight saddened Y/n. Arcton was a reasonably sized town, but it's dangers were constant. For about five decades, murders have been common. They were never insistent, like the recent ones were. Up until about two years ago, there would be about seven murders per year. Now, it was hard to keep track..

The atmosphere seemed to grow colder, the (h/c) male's breaths coming out in clouds in front of him. There was hardly any surrounding noise except for his boots against the concrete and his shaky breathing.

But then there was another set of footsteps.

Y/n was about to turn around when he felt a hand on his shoulder. He nearly shoved the offender away, but moved back when he identified them.