swine | ☆

○ chapter 3. ●

Trust me bro, if you think at any point you know who the yandere character is, you don't. I'd love to hear guesses though.

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The activity in the cafeteria made for great background noise for Y/n's out of control thoughts. He hadn't gotten a wink of sleep the previous night. How could he? Another victim, found right outside of his apartment.

This didn't necessarily mean anything had changed. The murderer just dropped off the body in an area that happened to be close to where Y/n lived. This murderer had left bodies in houses before, and those homeowners weren't killed. This didn't mean Y/n was in any more danger than he was a week ago, or two weeks ago, or any amount of time ago.

Was he still terrified?

Yes, very much so.

The sad sound of sobbing broke his thoughts away, the lunch table's already tense atmosphere growing all the more awkward as Hannah's friend joined the party, along with her boyfriend (and, primarily, Wade's friend), who looked as uncomfortable as could be.

Hannah's friend, Teagan, was obviously inconsolable. The pats on the shoulder that her boyfriend, Ezra, kept giving her didn't help in the slightest.

Teagan buried her face into Ezra's hair, crying quietly.

"Uh, there, there," Hannah said slowly, sipping a mysterious amber liquid out of a clear cup. Y/n cringed.

Everybody at this table is shit at this kind of thing.

"Don't sweat it too much, Chleo was a bi-"

Y/n clapped a hand over Erin's mouth before he could insult a dead girl, his jaw dropped.

"Erin!" Hannah seemed to have a similar reaction, her sharp but neglected features twisted with shock and offense.

"N- no, I understand, a lot of people h- hated her.. but wh- why did she have to- have to-" Teagan broke off into more sobs, her shoulders hiccuping with each sharp intake of breath.

It was scary to see just how easily the rug could be pulled from underneath anyone's feet. At some point, you start to think you're safe from being stabbed till you're only an idea, but you're never safe. The lack of a pattern; the lack of something to go by.. well, that's what people are afraid of.

"Shh, shhh, it's okay." Ezra tried to comfort the crying Teagan (key word tried.)

Some serial killers killed primarily young women. Some serial killers killed primarily young men. Some killers focused more on race or identity, some killers killed on a personal level.

In a dark way, that reassurance gave people a way to say 'hey, at least it won't be me.'

This psycho in a pig mask?

Nobody's safe from him or her or whoever they are. Nobody can cross themselves off their kill list based off patterns in killings. Not a single soul.

Death doesn't discriminate, you could say.

A blonde girl from the table behind Hannah abruptly turned around and stood up.

"Ezra, you're shit at this," She hissed. She had olive skin and lighter blonde hair, small freckles dotting the bridge of her nose and her cheeks. The girl wrapped an arm around Teagan's waist and hoisted her off the cafeteria table's bench.

She walked off with her, saying words of what Y/n supposed was comfort.

Y/n turned back to regard Erin, who's mouth his hand hadn't left, just a tad too late. He felt his friend's lips against his palm and immediately jerked his hand away, earning a 'you had it coming' grin from the chronically unserious boy.