Entrapped hearts [Yandere Cult X Reader]

New faces

As I sat in the room in silence, trapped in my own tumultuous thoughts, I heard a sound that had long been absent from my world: the distant rumble of a car engine. 

My heart quickened as I listened, recognizing the significance of this noise.

I rushed out of the room, my footsteps echoing through the hallway, and I made it to the front door just in time to see a sleek black car rolling to a stop. 

The vehicle gleamed under the faint sunlight that managed to penetrate the thick forest surrounding the mansion. It was a stark contrast to the eerie atmosphere of the place.

From the car emerged two young men who appeared to be in their early twenties. They were casually dressed in jeans and t-shirts, as if they were on a road trip. 

Their faces bore the kind of carefree expressions you'd expect from college students out for an adventure.

One of them, with sandy hair and a playful grin, was the first to speak. 

"Hey, is this the place on the flier?" He gazed up at the mansion with a mix of curiosity and excitement.

I felt a rush of panic, knowing what lay inside. "No, this is the wrong place. You have to leave," I urgently warned them, my voice shaking with concern.

But the other guy, tall with a mischievous glint in his eye, just chuckled. "Nah, I think this is the right place. Are there more pretty girls like you here?" His flippant comment made me want to pull my hair out in frustration.

"No, you need to leave. This place is—" I began to emphasize, but my warning was cut short as someone approached from behind me. The atmosphere shifted instantly, and I felt a surge of unease.

It was Dean, wearing his usual confident demeanor. "Oh, honey, don't tell me your heart yearns for another," he playfully teased me, his voice tinged with irritation.

"You need to run. This man is insane," I pleaded, desperation creeping into my voice. I desperately wanted them to heed my warning, but my words seemed to fall on deaf ears.

"Honey, don't ignore me," Dean repeated, his agitation palpable. More people began to emerge from the house, surrounding the two unsuspecting guys, and they were practically dragged inside.

I turned around to confront Dean, my eyes filled with both anger and fear.

"What are you going to do to them?" I demanded, my voice trembling.

Dean's expression shifted, his features contorting into a strange mix of frustration and possessiveness. 

"Why were you speaking to those boys? Am I not enough of a man for you?" he asked, his tone accusing.

"What are you talking about? I was trying to warn them," I retorted, my voice quivering.

"But they were just infatuated with your beauty, not listening to a word you said. Such a shame," he replied, his words laced with bitterness.

"What are you going to do to them?" I repeated, my voice shaking.

Dean's face darkened as he contemplated his answer. "I don't know... maybe shoot them? Or drown them?" he suggested casually, as if discussing the weather.

My heart sank at his cold response. "You're a monster," I whispered, the truth of his cruelty cutting through me.

"I know," he admitted, his voice devoid of remorse.

I continued to ignore Dean for the rest of the day, my thoughts consumed by the idea of running away from this eerie mansion hidden deep within the woods. 

The dimly lit room felt suffocating, and the flickering candles on the ornate mantelpiece cast eerie shadows on the aged wallpaper.

"And just when I thought I had you, they showed up... tell me, where does your heart reside?" Dean's voice reverberated through the room, the words dripping with a mixture of frustration and longing.

I remained steadfast in my silence, staring at the worn-out floorboards, the cracks and imperfections seeming to mirror the fractures in my own resolve.

"Baby, please, at least look at me. You're breaking my heart," he pleaded, his footsteps approaching me. He tried to hug me, but I pushed him away, the rustling of his coat echoing through the room.

"My baby... what can I do to stop this?" he asked, desperation creeping into his voice as he stood beside an antique armchair draped with an intricately embroidered throw.

"Let them go," I finally spoke, my tone laced with exhaustion and sorrow as I gazed at the faded portrait of a stern-looking man that hung on the wall.

"Ah, but they want to be here," he replied dismissively, his fingers tracing the ornate patterns on the antique table nearby. I groaned in frustration, my eyes darting to the heavy drapes that concealed the moonlit night outside.

"... You want to leave me. I'm sorry, but I don't know why I'm like this," he admitted, his voice filled with confusion and remorse as he stared at the glistening crystal chandelier overhead.

"Leave me alone," I muttered, my gaze shifting to the vintage grandfather clock in the corner, its slow, deliberate ticking marking the passage of time.

"I can't do that," he whispered, his voice a haunting presence in the dimly lit room.

"Y/N... my baby, please," Dean's voice had an unsettling edge to it, a blend of affection and something that felt increasingly unhinged. His eyes, once warm, now gleamed with an eerie intensity that sent a shiver of fear down my spine.

"Dean," I said cautiously, my voice quivering as I met his gaze, which seemed to pierce right through me, into the depths of my soul.

"Yes, my darling?" His reply, though seemingly sweet, carried an unsettling undertone that made my heart race with unease.

"You should go to sleep," I suggested, hoping to steer him away from the disturbing path he appeared to be on.

"I can't do that without you," he responded, his words hanging in the air like a heavy cloud, laden with an unsettling weight.

I sighed, reluctantly agreeing. "...Fine."

A twisted smile curled on his lips, devoid of the warmth I once knew. He guided me to his room, enfolding me as though I were his lifeline. His lips found the crook of my neck.

"Dean..." I whispered, my voice trembling.

"I'm sorry, I truly am," he murmured against my skin, his breath erratic and hot. "I can't control myself without you, and seeing you in this state, I..."

"It's okay," I interrupted, trying to soothe him even though my unease lingered like a heavy fog.

"Do you still want to leave me?" he asked, desperation lacing his voice, his grip on me tightening.

Silent contemplation filled the space between us, torn between my fear and sympathy for the man who seemed to be teetering on the brink of something I couldn't quite comprehend.

"But I can't let you..." he muttered, his breathing growing heavier, his emotions spiraling further out of control.

"Baby, please, calm down," I implored, my heart racing as I navigated the unpredictable chaos that seemed to consume Dean.

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A/N

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