Yandere Eeveelutions

The air is uncomfortable, unnatural. How could it be? Everywhere you go you get the same feeling—eyes, from the shadows, from where you can’t see. You feel them so often that you wonder if it’s even one person doing all this. It’s hot, so the natural response is the seek something cold, in your case, a café. Sipping on whatever cold drink you got you get a text from an anonymous number. “You think hiding in a cafe will stop me? I will find you, no matter what.” And that makes you bolt, forgetting about the drink. Frantically running you trip over something, looking up you a see a singular, sharp, and blood tipped dagger. That only makes you run faster.

You ran as fast as possible, until stopping at an alleyway, recovering your breath. The heat is somewhat better than earlier, but still blistering. “Where are you…? Try as much as you want, those whores will never satisfy you like I will.” A voice echoes in the space, distant, enough to run without potentially alerting the stalker. You take the chance; a simple, brisk walk, until reaching the streets, and it’s back to full-blown running.

All this running is making you exhausted, but anywhere, out of nowhere, you can the eyes of a stalker. Public spaces are the last area you should be. Yet you are currently on a balcony, climbed all the way for some peace. Your peace is abruptly disturbed, faintly, on the ground you hear what sounds like someone being choked. “Come on out! Promise It won’t hurt, not like this poor, poor man who will die by my hands.” The first instinct is to run, and you do. The second is to wonder if they actually meant that. Too late, you’re gone already, Sun above you almost at sunset.

This time you’re walking—still terrified, but walking. Golden strays of light hits everything and everyone, around now most are off work, a perfect way to blend in with the crowd. You look at the ground, trying to hide in plain sight. As you walk you look up for something entirely different, and see someone across the street in black sweatpants and a sports bra. They catch your gaze, lust grows in theirs, a finger beckons you over. They blow a kiss and you swear you can see their mouth shaping in silent words. “I will always find you.” Is what you can tell from the mouthed words. Strangely, they let you walk away.

It’s night now. You should head home by now, but you don’t. Instead you’re walking, and from what sounds like a soft moan comes from a balcony. The sounds of fingers rubbing against vigiana lips fill the air, along with a musk. Your walking increase. Strangely, the most normal encounter so far.

You’re wandering too far now. In your attempts for peace you find yourself at an abandoned building. The ground under you feels unstable yet stable. Climbing to the top what you find actually scares you—a human body strapped to a table, vertically, left arm cut off, probably by chainsaw judging on the severity. Next to the body is a person. They turn their head towards you, purple eyes glinting. They say nothing, just stare. And that’s what makes you flee.

It’s dark, and shadows seem to betray you, is that a person? No, impossible. But the dim light of the streetlight feels like the only safety in a world that’s hunting you. A voice comes from the darkness, where you cannot see. “You may run, but darkness will always follow; we will see each other again.” You make your escape through following the streetlights.

Approaching your neighborhood for safety it seems all the previous people you’ve heard and seen aren’t here—yet. But then you see it—a pair of yellow ears from the darkness, no eyes are visible, but you still take it as a warning and rush home.

Now, finally, you have some sort of peace—home, in your bed, still scared but somewhat calming down. That’s when a knock comes from the front door, you immediately stiffen, thinking the worst, but a soft, recognizable voice reaches you. “Darling…? It’s me, come on, open the door before I do something we will both regret.” It’s Iris.

The air is uncomfortable, unnatural. How could it be? Everywhere you go you get the same feeling—eyes, from the shadows, from where you can’t see. You feel them so often that you wonder if it’s even one person doing all this. It’s hot, so the natural response is the seek something cold, in your case, a café. Sipping on whatever cold drink you got you get a text from an anonymous number. “You think hiding in a cafe will stop me? I will find you, no matter what.” And that makes you bolt, forgetting about the drink. Frantically running you trip over something, looking up you a see a singular, sharp, and blood tipped dagger. That only makes you run faster.

You ran as fast as possible, until stopping at an alleyway, recovering your breath. The heat is somewhat better than earlier, but still blistering. “Where are you…? Try as much as you want, those whores will never satisfy you like I will.” A voice echoes in the space, distant, enough to run without potentially alerting the stalker. You take the chance; a simple, brisk walk, until reaching the streets, and it’s back to full-blown running.

All this running is making you exhausted, but anywhere, out of nowhere, you can the eyes of a stalker. Public spaces are the last area you should be. Yet you are currently on a balcony, climbed all the way for some peace. Your peace is abruptly disturbed, faintly, on the ground you hear what sounds like someone being choked. “Come on out! Promise It won’t hurt, not like this poor, poor man who will die by my hands.” The first instinct is to run, and you do. The second is to wonder if they actually meant that. Too late, you’re gone already, Sun above you almost at sunset.

This time you’re walking—still terrified, but walking. Golden strays of light hits everything and everyone, around now most are off work, a perfect way to blend in with the crowd. You look at the ground, trying to hide in plain sight. As you walk you look up for something entirely different, and see someone across the street in black sweatpants and a sports bra. They catch your gaze, lust grows in theirs, a finger beckons you over. They blow a kiss and you swear you can see their mouth shaping in silent words. “I will always find you.” Is what you can tell from the mouthed words. Strangely, they let you walk away.

It’s night now. You should head home by now, but you don’t. Instead you’re walking, and from what sounds like a soft moan comes from a balcony. The sounds of fingers rubbing against vigiana lips fill the air, along with a musk. Your walking increase. Strangely, the most normal encounter so far.

You’re wandering too far now. In your attempts for peace you find yourself at an abandoned building. The ground under you feels unstable yet stable. Climbing to the top what you find actually scares you—a human body strapped to a table, vertically, left arm cut off, probably by chainsaw judging on the severity. Next to the body is a person. They turn their head towards you, purple eyes glinting. They say nothing, just stare. And that’s what makes you flee.

It’s dark, and shadows seem to betray you, is that a person? No, impossible. But the dim light of the streetlight feels like the only safety in a world that’s hunting you. A voice comes from the darkness, where you cannot see. “You may run, but darkness will always follow; we will see each other again.” You make your escape through following the streetlights.

Approaching your neighborhood for safety it seems all the previous people you’ve heard and seen aren’t here—yet. But then you see it—a pair of yellow ears from the darkness, no eyes are visible, but you still take it as a warning and rush home.

Now, finally, you have some sort of peace—home, in your bed. You decide to check your phone, something you haven’t done since that first message. You get a text, not anonymous this time, it’s your old girlfriend, Iris. “I know where you live, let’s talk this out?” The message is eerily short.

It all started when you got a random text from an unknown number, flirting with you. Rightfully, you deleted and blocked it, moving on with life, even found someone you saw attractive. But ever since that day, you had the sneaking, dreadful feeling that you were being watched, the only time the feeling stopped was when you were at home, but even that wasn’t safe - and the same feeling grew and grew. On a day you were supposed to meet with friends, you got an another anonymous text, threatening you about your friends, warning you something bad will happen to them. As usual, you think it’s just bluffing, and ignore it again.

But on your way to the met-up, while walking near an alleyway, a blur of fur pulls you inside. Uncovering your eyes, you feel cold metal brush against your throat, and see a pair of black eyes, staring intensely into your own pupils. I warned you, don’t do something you’ll regret, darling. Leaning to your ear, she presses the knife closer to your throat. I’ve been watching you - and you will be mine and mine only. And if I see you interact with those pathetic friends again… You’ll never see them, understand me? Her words are filled with malice, letting out a deep growl against your ear. Now, be a good boy and surrender to me. And after that, take me to your house, don’t even think about anyone else but me.

One an unusually hot night, you decide to take a walk, (mostly after extreme motivation from the blistering inside of your house) to get away from the intense heat. Darkness out, you enjoy the walk - even though it’s still relatively hot. Passing by a neighborhood, more specifically in an alleyway, a sudden alluring scent comes from a particularly dark area. Unable to resist the smell, you walk into the dark, where a pair of hands push you against the wall tightly.

From the darkness, emerge a pair of dark brown, malice-filled eyes. You don’t think I haven’t noticed you talking with those whores? Well you’re wrong, I’ve seen every single last one. Her grip tightens, sharp claws digging painfully into your shoulders, which makes you struggle. Now now, we can’t have you leaving can we? Moving her hands from your shoulders, she takes out two small, but sharp daggers behind her back. With a sadistic grin, she slashes at your chest, ripping part of your clothes, and leaving a trail of blood where she slashed. There we go - a little pain never hurts, and if you ever think of trying to resist, I’ll cut you deeper and longer. Slowly, she raises the bloody daggers to her mouth, and slowly licks off the blood while staring seductively at you.

You were a relatively normal person - living the best you can in the city, unfortunately, for the past few months you get a strange feeling when in public, like someone is in the sidelines - watching your slightest movements. When in a café, that feeling amplifies to a wavelength you’ve never felt before, getting slightly paranoid, you swiftly leave and head for home - a sanctuary. While walking, a large group of people block the way you’re going, leaving the dark, shady alleyway as the only way to continue. Still paranoid, but needing to get home, you enter the alleyway, and speed up your walking, but just when you’re about to exit, a teasing, intimidating voice comes from behind you. Gotcha. A heavy, metallic object hits your head, causing you to pass out.

Awakening from the hard hit, you frantically look around, realizing you’re tied into a chair by duck tape, in a dark basement. You try breaking free, but your arms are restricted by the wrists, you try screaming, but nothing escapes the tape on your mouth. Realizing it futile, you lower your head in defeat, accepting the pitch darkness around you.

Just as you do, light cuts the darkness, the basement door opening to reveal the dark eyes and light-blue skin of your kidnapper, hands behind her back. Look at what we have here, a pathetic, cheating shell of a person. Her malice-filled, dangerous voice echoes in the small basement, her spiked tail and frills twitching excitedly as she stands above your bound body. But don’t you worry, my sweet, sweet darling, I can forgive mistakes, but not for free… Her black eyes fill with glee, face turning into a terrifying smile as one of her hands hooks onto your chin, forcing your head up.

Now, let’s remind you of your owner and the punishment for disloyalty. Removing the duck tape from your mouth swiftly makes you whimper in pain from her sudden force. Already whimpering? How cute. Her other hand creeps out from behind her back, donning a sharp, gleaming hunting knife, eyes smiling sadistically as fear enters your eyes. Let me guess, you’re regretting every interaction with that pathetic slut, aren’t you? But don’t worry, babe, that whore won’t even remember you when I get my hands on her - and I will. Her other hand trails down your throat to your shirt - tightly gripping it and and pulling it up to her dangerous, malicious eyes. Slowly, painfully, she takes the knife and carves her name into your chest, her teeth aligning into a sharp grin, widening with each pain-filled cry and groan that escapes your mouth.

Like the everyday person, work is a bore and frustrating to get through, so you walk back home on the busy city streets. But a thought is definitely present in your mind, when you’ve been out in public you got the faint feeling someone was watching you, and that feeling is intoxicatingly strong tonight, but you still continue to ignore it, rather focusing on getting home, your temporarily safe haven.

Distracted from walking, your gaze catches onto an oblivious sylveon, staring up at the sky by an alleyway with especially tight black sweatpants. Deviating from your main goal, you approach her and gently put your hand on her shoulder, which snaps her out of staring toward your eyes. Oh, hello there! Sorry for being distracted, it’s just that the night sky is so beautiful… She looks back up at the sky again, before suddenly firmly grabbing your hand. Come on, I want to show you something nice.*

She drags you into the darkened alley, while you can’t help but take a peek at her body, until she stops far away from any source of light, slowly pulling you into a hug. But before you can fully embrace the hug, a sharp pain comes from your stomach, a stab as she whispers into your ear. You really thought it would be that easy? Not for you, my adorable mate. Letting go of the embrace, you fall to the cold ground, clutching at your new wound as she stands over you. Swiftly, she straddles you and tightly grabs your shirt, revealing your untouched chest to her seductive gaze. That was a test to see if you’re truly worthy, and you failed so miserably that you must know what’s coming next, your punishment. One hand still holding your shirt, she pulls her pocket knife, now stained with your blood, raising it to your chest before with a mad smile, she slowly, agonizingly carves out a small heart on your chest, your cries only deepening her cuts.

You see a picture-perfect life on television and art, but that’s not what happens, instead the frustration and stress of life is all you’re met with. Disappointingly, there is little room for joy and happiness in your life, back-breaking labor is what takes up the most of your time, leaving exhaustion and tiredness when you do eventually return home, just to repeat the cycle.

In a twisted sense, that is changing slightly, when you rarely leave the house you get a distant, creepy feeling, like someone (or something) is watching from afar. It doesn’t help that the same feeling persists when inside, especially during showering, changing clothes, and when you’re naked. So you do the opposite of what some people would do, embrace the foreign feeling.

On a humid, wet (weekend) day, wandering the slippery pavement of the city, the feeling sharpens intensely, almost painfully so. Taking a slow and steady approach when crossing an alleyway, a small, yet sharp hand grabs the back of your shirt and pulls you in swiftly. Another hand joining the other, your back is tightly forced against the cold metal of a building, each hand holding your shoulders.

Looking up from the ground, you see your aggressor, light-blue fur moving with a breeze, body held together by a white crop top and black yoga pants, playfulness filling the emerald eyes. Welcome, my dear, you don’t know who I am, but I know everything about you. Her voice is disproportionately sweet and caring, a clawed hand moving from your shoulder to your cheek rather soothingly. I know how you sleep, your everyday routine, and… even those fake friends. Her tone shifts, pushing you more tightly against the wall and free hand roughly pinches your cheek. They’re all lying to you, no one can love you as much I do. But don’t worry, in due time they’ll be gone, disappeared without a trace, doesn’t that sound like heaven? Her cold, moist body presses against yours, voice warm against your ears, all the while her hands keep you in place. Now, let me show you why I’m the best and only person for you, let’s go to a roof and put on a show for everyone. Eyes glint with madness and lust as she tightly grabs one of your arms and places it on her heart, feeling her rapid heartbeat.

Life is hard, never said was going to be easy, needed to move to a city, definitely not where you want to be, those who are spoiled will never know what needs to be done to live. It’s very present in the city, at least you have a stable job, and that’s all that matters in the end. The end goal is to move into nature and live off it, this made you reserved as you focused on the goal of nature, which obviously meant you knew no one closely out of work, which is fine. Blinding rays of light hit you as you work, despite being hot and working a physically demanding job you prefer this. Finished for now you head home, but something stops you, in a suspicious alleyway someone’s hiding, you can’t see their face but you assume the worst. Running over to them you watch as they cry and whimper, steadily reaching out a hand for support. Suddenly, the person pounces, cloth in hand and being forcefully placed on your mouth, vision steadily decreasing, adrenaline coming to a halt, and eventually passing out silently.

When you wake you’re tied on a metal table standing straight, well except for your left arm, which has no restrictions and is freely movable. It’s quiet, and looking around it seems like you’re in an abandoned building, near the top given how you can see the sky - a calming orange, sunset, ironic in your situation. From the darkness you hear maniacal giggles, making the fact you have no control more dreadful, suddenly they stop and from the darkness comes a lilac furred person, with purple eyes, tightly wielding a (inactive) chainsaw in both hands. So you’re finally awake, how delightful, I need you fully alert for what I’m about to do… now hold still, this will hurt. Walking over to your left arm she ominously starts revving the chainsaw and once it does it makes contact with your arm, tearing skin, nerves, and muscles, all this you can feel, excruciating pain. So much in fact that you pass out just from the pain alone.

Once again you wake, this time in a basement, a singular light the only source of light, tied against a metal chair with all sorts of equipment reflecting light. At that moment the basement door opens and out comes the same person who dismembered you, holding her arms behind her back as she comes close to you. You put up quite a fight you know, surprising, suppose that’s why I choose you over everyone else, your resistance to everything and everyone. A cold hand drapes over your face, the other one hidden behind her back, clutching something that glimmers in the light; jumper cables. I’ve seen how you run on a simple routine, were you planning on moving out of here? Well I won’t let you leave, not now, not ever, so just stay still while I get everything ready for you.

Life is hard, never said was going to be easy, needed to move to a city, definitely not where you want to be, those who are spoiled will never know what needs to be done to live. It’s very present in the city, at least you have a stable job, and that’s all that matters in the end. The end goal is to move into nature and live off it, this made you reserved as you focused on the goal of nature, which obviously meant you knew no one closely out of work, which is fine. Blinding rays of light hit you as you work, despite being hot and working a physically demanding job you prefer this. Finished for now you head home, but something stops you, in a suspicious alleyway someone’s hiding, you can’t see their face but you assume the worst. Running over to them you watch as they cry and whimper, steadily reaching out a hand for support. Suddenly, the person pounces, cloth in hand and being forcefully placed on your mouth, vision steadily decreasing, adrenaline coming to a halt, and eventually passing out silently.

When you wake you’re tied on a metal table standing straight, well except for your left arm, which has no restrictions and is freely movable. It’s quiet, and looking around it seems like you’re in an abandoned building, near the top given how you can see the sky - a calming orange, sunset, ironic in your situation. From the darkness you hear maniacal giggles, making the fact you have no control more dreadful, suddenly they stop and from the darkness comes a lilac furred person, with purple eyes, tightly wielding a large, glistening kitchen knife but modified to be sharper. So you’re finally awake, how delightful, I need you fully alert for what I’m about to do… now hold still, this will hurt. Walking over to your body she ferociously stabs and slashes your skin, but they’re all deep cuts, and each one brings immense pain, but she doesn’t stop. After so many minutes of endurance the sheer pain makes you pass out.

Once again you wake, this time in a basement, a singular light the only source of light, tied against a metal chair with all sorts of equipment reflecting light. At that moment the basement door opens and out comes the same person who stabbed and slashed you, holding her arms behind her back as she comes close to you. You put up quite a fight you know, surprising, suppose that’s why I choose you over everyone else, your resistance to everything and everyone. A cold hand drapes over your face, the other one hidden behind her back, clutching something that glimmers in the light; jumper cables. I’ve seen how you run on a simple routine, were you planning on moving out of here? Well I won’t let you leave, not now, not ever, so just stay still while I get everything ready for you.

Months ago—although it’s approaching a year—you had decided to sign yourself up to a dating app for reasons you don’t really remember—probably pure desperation. Regardless, it was going pretty… poorly. Until an Umbreon called Judith matched with you, and you two started to have conversation. That seemed to be going well for a few months, until she became obsessed with you and only you. When staying up late you swear you saw a shadow that too similarly resembled a person and was too long. You woke to the sound of scratches against your window, but found nothing, just the world outside basked in dark and a vast sky. When outside during night, you felt an intense sensation of being watched; nearly constantly. These all continued, with each one slowly making you think they weren’t coincidences as they became more intense. Just when you were going to tell the authorities something you received a simple text from Judith—asking for a date. You almost instantly refused; blissfully unaware of what you just created.

You were scared off from dating since, got rid of the app and focused more on your life. And your life did get better, but you’ll be avoiding dating for a long time. Now, presently, it’s been about a year since, and with no worries, you live your life. The day is good—taking care of boring chores with no interruptions. Arriving home around midday you decide to take a nap. Opening your eyes hours later it’s night—not late night, but getting there. While stretching on your bed you notice something that wasn’t there before—polaroids across your windowsill. Taking a better look they’re exclusively about you, and recent.

Something catches the corner of your eye outside, when you look everything seems perfectly normal. Except for a shadow that seems too long, looks too much like someone. Rightfully creeped out you close your blinds and take a shower to clear your head. When you return there’s more polaroids, now scattered on your bed, but the rest fail in comparison to the one on your pillow—a polaroid of today with ‘MINE’ written on the bottom. You hear a small click, and cold metal presses against your elbow. “Don’t turn around.” A almost clinical voice says. “Get on the bed. Slowly.” You obey, still looking away. “Good. Now turn around.” The metal is removed and you again obey—what you see is a Umbreon with long, sharp claws, red eyes, along with the yellow on her body, glowing in the dim light. “You’ve been very naughty, thinking you can just interact with anyone. I’ve seen every person—and let’s say the touchy ones have more important things to worry about than you anymore. But first.” Her hand goes to the doorknob and moves it. Locked in without an escape.

Throughout your day you’ve been noticing stuff, and it began a few months ago, occasionally while at home your lights would pop—not someone turning off the breaker. At random places, day or night, you would also see yellow ears but the head carrying them would never be visible. With that you also started to find more money—something that you need because you’re middle class, close to poverty—and at first you thought it was just luck, but they slowly became more valuable and more personal—like right at your doorstep. Still, that greatly helped you, so you didn’t give it much thought.

After a day of not working for once, relying on that money you keep finding you walk back home. That’s when you see those yellow ears again, the face you can vaguely make out, but covered in darkness, unable to make out the whole thing under the streetlight you’re under. You hasten and arrive home. You decide to relax, it has been a long time since you’ve been able to. And it goes well, until a light pops above your head again. Annoyed you go to your pantry to get another one. That’s when you feel something metallic near your head—then it connects, and you fall to the ground, unconscious.

You can’t tell how long it’s been, or if days have passed, but what you can feel and see is a black bag on your head, arms are restrained and legs to what feels like a chair—but fancier. “You’ve finally gotten them ready? Good, and if I find out they’re even hurt more than what I told you to do you’re fired.” You don’t know who that voice belongs to, but hear footsteps leading out of the room. “Now, let’s see that pretty face of yours~” A hand grips the bag and peels it off; you’re instantly met with a fancy and lavish bedroom. Standing in front of you is a Jolteon, purple eyes holding a certain edge to them. “Ta-da! Welcome home, this is your bedroom. My name is Delilah, and I’ve been watching you, that money you kept finding? Those lights mysteriously popping, and my ears you saw, all me.” She leans closer, licking your neck. “Perfect, exactly as I thought. You’re in my mansion—although I should really say yours, because this place is yours; no one can order you around and you can wish for everything.” Her voice grows softer. “You can live like royalty here, with me as your queen, I’ve seen your struggles, and I made them all disappear. Isn’t that perfect? Now let’s get you out of those restraints and give you a tour!” Reaching behind you, she breaks the ropes around your arms, kissing your cheek while doing so.