YANDERE WARNING!!!

Art sauce: https://gelbooru.com/index.php?page=post&s=view&id=1919144

As she stood over the bloodied corpse, finally done with using and abusing him, the feeling returned. The dull feeling of guilt, and the continued surreal knowledge of what her life had been up to that point. And the thrill of domination, of freedom.

She opened the metal door, stepping out onto the third-story walkway above the city. The coolness of the gentle breeze on the drying blood was exhilirating, though she was very good at covering it up by now. She would allow herself to enjoy this moment a little longer, before the waves of guilt could kick in.

Their relationship had only lasted a few days, but her mind would surely obsess over every second of it during many private times from now on. It always went there whenever she was alone with her own body. If only it could remain as just a sexual thing, then maybe she would eventually find it hot in a kind of messed-up way…

All of her relationships came to the same end. It had only been a year or so ago, when her friend stupidly used a wish to make the former male into his yandere girlfriend. When she was around him, it was like she was taken over by an extreme compulsion to obsess about his every movement, her mind becoming extremely careful and meticulous as it led her to fulfill her desires. If she could stay away from him for long enough, it would fade, but something would always bring her back. Once her friend was chopped up and in the freezer, she could no longer accept that she was the same person that she used to be.

Every once in a while – it could be weeks, it could be months – she would fall for another guy, and the cycle would begin again. In between she lived life however she could, one day at a time, doing whatever she felt like as long as it wouldn’t get her too attached to anyone else. She was always conscious of her yandere side, deep inside her head, always plotting and doing the critical thinking for her, though when it was dormant it felt like it was just nothing more than an intense, sick version of her own dark thoughts. Only at crucial times, when it was needed to prevent her from being found out, or when she had ignored it for too long, would it take over. As long as she didn’t think too hard, and as long as she didn’t worry about what would happen to anyone else, she could keep up the illusion of her own happy life as an innocent girl.

No one had spotted her yet. The innermost depths of her mind – the uncontrollable part, the terrifying part – was already telling her what she needed to do for a clean getaway. Resisting only delayed the inevitable – her instincts would kick in at any moment. With slight tears forming, she turned the knife towards herself, her bloodied hand shaking. But her arm stopped short. She wouldn’t be satisfied until she found her next love.