04-17-2018, 08:32 PM
Yandere Lover hid the scowl under the brim of his fedora as he followed her. His Hecate Sama was noacting as he had expected, in fact she seemed to almost pay no heed to her Senpai. In the back of his mind he still had one question he wanted to ask. "Why? Why are we doing this Hecate Sama?" He asked finally hoping she wouldn't turn her ire towards him.
"Why?" She responded with a question. "Perhaps just because I want too?" This was something she had not given much thought to. Why did she wish to cause so much pain upon others. "No, I am not so crass as to simply do something like this just because I want to, though do not mistake I take great pleasure in this, more than someone like you could ever hope to understand." She responded as she continued to lead him through the woods. "More than likely, I want others to experience every excruciating moment that I have lived through, to see how strong another's will to survive is." Hecate said coldly. Her fingers twitched slightly as she decided to continue telling the boy more about who she was.
"Tell me boy, do you know what rape is? What true rape is? No I doubt that someone as limited as you could ever truly understand just what it is like to be a fifteen year old girl taken from the only family you have ever known and used for several years as nothing more than a toy to be passed between your captors? Do you boy?" Hecate asked without a trace of emotion, almost as if it no longer affected her.
"No, I didn't know" The boy replied quickly, truly he had expected her personality that he had fallen in love with to have been something that just existed. He had not considered the emotional trauma one would need to endure to become a Yandere.
"Of course you didnt, Do you know what it is like to have been....sealed with a hot iron rod? No how could you. Even if I wanted to bear children." She gaged at the thought. "I can do that no longer." Even at this she shed not a single bit of emotion. In fact a small grin was on her face, the same grin she always wore when she was hungering for one of her vices.
“Don't get me wrong, I loved every bit of it. She on the other hand was too weak and created me as an escape from her reality.” She elaborated as she halted at a tree, the distinct sound of crackling wood and the scent of burning oak filled the air around them. She had been so lost in telling of her past she had nearly lost where they were.
Why was she telling this boy about herself so willingly? Was it guilt? Or was she proud of who she was, even if it was only part of the whole picture.
“Watch carefully.” She instructed the boy as she sat down with her back to a tree and continued to talk about her past.
“You are either the victim or the predator, there is No in between. So here I am, the predator, the one who took her screams and pleas for help as she was ravaged and turned them into power and a hunger for more.” Hecate said in a low whisper. It was true, she had been born as a way to cope with the no stop sexual abuse her body had been subjected to on a daily basis. Even now her insides squirmed at the mere thought of sex.
There was a strong urge to charge into the camp swelling deep inside of Hecate, the thirst to see red splatter across the ground, the moans of those on the very cusp between life and death. Those where who she was she was a blood letter, a killer. She bore no resentment towards the guards that bedded her constantly, nor was there anger towards the elder witches that mutilated her insides to the degree they were. Even now she only felt bliss when she could spill blood. She only held resentment towards the docile side of her, the one responsible for spilling blood first. That's was to be her glory! The trophy of that first kill was to be hers! Not the selfish reader who resented the very things that defined who she was! She was a witch, one of a few who not only bore the scars of training, the kinds of training that broke even the most resolute into mindless followers! No she was Hecate Rothchild and she had overcome the darkness that swallowed most witches. “Kill your mother..” Hecate said in the same low whisper. That was the first test we had to overcome, She did it, not I. She stole the first kill, the first spray the first baptism.” Hecate said, a all trace of anger filled her voice despite her attempts to reign it in. “I wanted to held the sword, I wanted to push it in, so slow, so effortlessly. It wouldn't have taken much you know? A few pounds of pressure and shliiiick” she said trying to replicate the sound of a blade passing into flesh.
This was too much even for Yandere lover, his stomach turned sour at what she was saying. She wasn't even a true Yandere, she was just.. broken.
"Why?" She responded with a question. "Perhaps just because I want too?" This was something she had not given much thought to. Why did she wish to cause so much pain upon others. "No, I am not so crass as to simply do something like this just because I want to, though do not mistake I take great pleasure in this, more than someone like you could ever hope to understand." She responded as she continued to lead him through the woods. "More than likely, I want others to experience every excruciating moment that I have lived through, to see how strong another's will to survive is." Hecate said coldly. Her fingers twitched slightly as she decided to continue telling the boy more about who she was.
"Tell me boy, do you know what rape is? What true rape is? No I doubt that someone as limited as you could ever truly understand just what it is like to be a fifteen year old girl taken from the only family you have ever known and used for several years as nothing more than a toy to be passed between your captors? Do you boy?" Hecate asked without a trace of emotion, almost as if it no longer affected her.
"No, I didn't know" The boy replied quickly, truly he had expected her personality that he had fallen in love with to have been something that just existed. He had not considered the emotional trauma one would need to endure to become a Yandere.
"Of course you didnt, Do you know what it is like to have been....sealed with a hot iron rod? No how could you. Even if I wanted to bear children." She gaged at the thought. "I can do that no longer." Even at this she shed not a single bit of emotion. In fact a small grin was on her face, the same grin she always wore when she was hungering for one of her vices.
“Don't get me wrong, I loved every bit of it. She on the other hand was too weak and created me as an escape from her reality.” She elaborated as she halted at a tree, the distinct sound of crackling wood and the scent of burning oak filled the air around them. She had been so lost in telling of her past she had nearly lost where they were.
Why was she telling this boy about herself so willingly? Was it guilt? Or was she proud of who she was, even if it was only part of the whole picture.
“Watch carefully.” She instructed the boy as she sat down with her back to a tree and continued to talk about her past.
“You are either the victim or the predator, there is No in between. So here I am, the predator, the one who took her screams and pleas for help as she was ravaged and turned them into power and a hunger for more.” Hecate said in a low whisper. It was true, she had been born as a way to cope with the no stop sexual abuse her body had been subjected to on a daily basis. Even now her insides squirmed at the mere thought of sex.
There was a strong urge to charge into the camp swelling deep inside of Hecate, the thirst to see red splatter across the ground, the moans of those on the very cusp between life and death. Those where who she was she was a blood letter, a killer. She bore no resentment towards the guards that bedded her constantly, nor was there anger towards the elder witches that mutilated her insides to the degree they were. Even now she only felt bliss when she could spill blood. She only held resentment towards the docile side of her, the one responsible for spilling blood first. That's was to be her glory! The trophy of that first kill was to be hers! Not the selfish reader who resented the very things that defined who she was! She was a witch, one of a few who not only bore the scars of training, the kinds of training that broke even the most resolute into mindless followers! No she was Hecate Rothchild and she had overcome the darkness that swallowed most witches. “Kill your mother..” Hecate said in the same low whisper. That was the first test we had to overcome, She did it, not I. She stole the first kill, the first spray the first baptism.” Hecate said, a all trace of anger filled her voice despite her attempts to reign it in. “I wanted to held the sword, I wanted to push it in, so slow, so effortlessly. It wouldn't have taken much you know? A few pounds of pressure and shliiiick” she said trying to replicate the sound of a blade passing into flesh.
This was too much even for Yandere lover, his stomach turned sour at what she was saying. She wasn't even a true Yandere, she was just.. broken.