Questionable Motives (GrellxReader)

With blank eyes, you sat at your mother’s bedside, separating yourself from your emotions so that her death wouldn’t hurt too much. She had stopped breathing what felt like hours ago, when in reality it was only a few minutes.

Suddenly, the weight of everything crashed onto you. Tears pricked in the corners of your (e/c) eyes that you struggled to hold back and you couldn’t swallow due to the lump in your dry throat. A shaky breath was pushed from your heavy chest and the first tear fell. You dropped her cold hand from your own in order to cover your face before the tears could turn your face red.

Quietly sobbing, you turned away from the peaceful looking corpse of your mother and faced the empty doorway that was not so empty.

Gasping at the sudden appearance of red clad figure in the abandoned hall, you stood hurriedly from your chair and held your arms protectively over your mother.

“Wh-who are you!?” you cried, (e/c) eyes wide with fear.

The man smiled a sharp grin that made you shudder and tsked, wagging a finger in front of his face. “Well this won’t do at all. I can’t do my job if you won’t let me near.”

He took a step closer to you, dragging a scarlet handled chainsaw behind him. His crimson heeled shoes clicked loudly on the wooden floors of your mother’s room, the sound standing alone in the silence of the room. His black trimmed coat hung off of his shoulders, fluttering behind him as he stalked closer.

With that shark-toothed grin still plastered on his face, the man swung his chainsaw up, pointing the blade at you. He cocked his head to the side, long red bangs falling over his neon green eyes. “I suggest you move, missy, wouldn’t want to nick you by accident.”

His smile fell when he saw you weren’t moving, but reappeared shortly after. “I could always dress you in crimson, too,” he suggested, gesturing with his chainsaw to the side as he stepped even closer.

Something about his words made an uneasy churning of your stomach begin, and your resolve faltered. You swallowed hard, wide eyes searching the man’s for something, anything, that could help you.

“St-stay away!” you cried, the bed’s edge pressing against the backs of your knees.

He was right in front of you now. “Or what?” he purred, voice thick with bemusement and nose nearly touching your own.

You gulped. “I-I’ll,” your voice trailed off and you blushed at the proximity of the man to you. Then a smirk that matched his own painted itself across your face. “I’ll scream.”

The man pursed his lips, thinking over your threat. “Scream, huh?” his yellow-green eyes narrowed, “That could be fun!”

Taking the opportunity of your freezing, the man pushed past you, roughly shoving you away until he was the one who stood before your mother.

All too fast, he drove the blade of his chainsaw into your mother’s chest, though no blood drained from the wound. “No!” you screamed when something finally did happen.

Rolls of film unfurled from the hole in her chest where the blade still protruded and you could do nothing but stand in silence.

The man in red hummed loudly as he pulled the chainsaw into the air, slicing into the film and ending the reel.

Job apparently done, the man turned on his pointed heel and strode out of the room.

“Wait!” you called without thinking as the man reached the door.

He hummed a bit, turning back to face you. “What do you want, girly?”

You couldn’t look at the body of your mother, not now. Instead, you stared at the ground as your tears dripped down again. “Wh-what was that? What did you do?” you shouted at the scarlet-haired man, jerking your chin up so you could watch his face for a reaction. “Who do you think you are, barging into someone’s house and doing something like this?” His face was curious, lips turned downward. “What are you?”

It was now that the smile appeared. “Well that is a very good question,” he purred, grinning like the Chesire cat, “But answer my question first, missy,” there he was again, face pressed closer to your own.

“Do you really want to know?”