You're my Perfect Picture {Cannibal!Red X Reader} {Crafting Dead FF}

Chapter 9

I am a very lazy author... That and I fandom hop frequently so it's difficult for me to go on with fanfics for long... well, at least I still kinda know what's gonna happen..... Also, looks like we might get some backstory this chapter! Fun fact: I wanted to try and make this protagonist one a shy character and stuff, but that got scraped first chapter since yeah, I'm just not good at writing those types of people...

Y/n's POV

I hear voices. Who? I have no clue, but it's annoying. All I want to do is continue to sleep in this warm darkness, but the voice's incessant abnormally high-pitched talking will drive me insane.

Forcing my eyes open, I awaken from my blissful slumber to see a short man blabbering about something. "Where am I, and who are you?" I ask, quite annoyed to be bothered at all.

"Ah, right, I'm Wesley," the man starts. "I'm the only man Red definitely won't kill, and his psychiatrist."

"So Red, a cannibal, has a shrink? I mean, I get he has problems, but like.... It should be kinda obvious what he needs to ease down on."

"Um.... Well, you see, ah.... I'm really not allowed to talk about this..." the short man continues to ramble.

"Okay then. Well if you're not allowed to talk about that, let's move on to something else. So why exactly am I still alive? It's been a week and Nick and the others haven't even tried to help me escape, so why hasn't Red just eaten me already?" My question obviously strikes a cord with Wesley, and he manages a small smile.

"I'm not completely sure, but I know it's a good thing. Ever since his... incident at the start of the Apocalypse he's been very closed off to everyone but me, and was known to eat first and ask questions later. "He takes a deep breath and continues." I understand that you were bait, but I mean, he would've let the zombies get anyone else. But not you. He saved you; gave you a piggyback ride and everything. Allowed you to fall asleep on his back, and that astounds me. You're special to him, and I don't think he realizes it himself yet."

I just blink. Special to a cannibal? Is that supposed to be a good thing? What do I do, use it to get away or something? But what if Nick just didn't come because he didn't care? Where would I go?

Seeing I am too dumbstruck to actually reply, Wesley continues. "I'm not allowed to tell anything, but I feel you should know at least part of what happened to him." He walks next to me and leans down beside my ear as he slips something in my pocket. "Don't show anyone this. It isn't the full story, but it will do for now."

I just nod as he goes back to his chair. "She's awake now, you can lead her to her room," the man yells, summoning two guards.

Surprisingly, they don't lead me to another pen or a cell. This time, it's to a moderately nice house. The two goons don't say anything, just lightly shove me inside the house and lock it from the outside.

The inside is actually decently furnished. Definitely an upgrade from the hay and pavilion of my pen. The short hall leads to a living room which has one couch in the shape of an 'L' facing towards a TV which obviously wouldn't work anymore, placed right next to a large bookshelf. The kitchen, right next to the living room, I am much too scared to visit seeing as what might be in the fridge, so I leave that alone and visit the bedroom.

Like the room before it, it was also pretty well furnished, and much nicer than I would've expected for 'bait'. Then again, if what the psychiatrist predicted is correct, then I guess it's not surprising. In the center was a queen size bed, and beside that a small nightstand. Otherwise, there wasn't anything else, but that was still an improvement from the now blood-stained hay stack I slept on for the past week.

There was, however, a door on on the right side of the room, and I decided to open it and see how big my closet would be. Even if I didn't have more clothes than those on my back at the moment, it could be a nifty hiding spot.

I open the door and --nope. Not a closet. Not at all. Inside was a huge white room with easels and paint supplies all around, just waiting to be used. Not losing a second, I immediately rushed over to one of them and started to paint. There was no way I'd lose this opportunity.

Well, there was going to be some of Red's backstory here, but yeah.... my writing took over, and this happened. Maybe next chapter? Oh yeah, and sorry this chapter is so unrealistic. I MEAN AFTER ALL GIRLS AREN'T ALLOWED TO HAVE POCKETS APPARENTLY! Also you can thank the person who was like 'come on update it's been forever' cause otherwise I probably would've waited another two months to update.......