Finding a Yandere in Reverse World

Chapter 47: In For The Kill

[Erica’s POV]

“Are you fucking kidding me?” I snarl, slamming my fist against the dashboard. The cheap plastic creaks under the impact, threatening to crack like my patience. Outside the car window, Lyra’s apartment building looms, a dingy, cookie-cutter complex that reeks of broken dreams and instant ramen. Her room on the first floor was empty after we searched it just in case.

The PI beside me, a middle-aged woman with the dead-eyed stare of someone who’s seen too much shit, just shrugs. “Sorry, kid. As i told you earlier I tracked her to the airport. She’s flown the coop.”

My jaw clenches so hard I can hear my teeth grinding. ‘That mangy bitch Lyra, thinking she can just skip town after I decided I wanted to kill her. The nerve of some people.’

“You’re telling me she just up and left the country? Just like that?” I demand, my voice dripping with venom.

The PI nods, her expression unchanging. “Yep. Boarded a flight yesterday morning.”

I lean back in my seat, my mind racing. ‘How the hell did Lyra pull this off? Last I knew, she was broke as shit, living in this dump. Something doesn’t add up, and I’m gonna get to the bottom of it. I even left Jason alone earlier than I wanted to, to come out here today for fuck’s sake.’

“Well, fuck me sideways.” I mutter, reaching for my pack of cigarettes. “So what now?” I ask, exhaling a plume of smoke. “You got any leads on where she might’ve gone?”

The PI shakes her head. “She went to Cancún Mexico and then boarded another flight to god knows where. My contacts cant identify stuff outside of the US.”

I nod, grudgingly. “Fuck!” I yell.

*****

[Jason’s POV]

It’s been two days since I tried to cut out little baby Jason out of Lyra’s stomach Alien style. ‘Actually since I’d have been stabbing normally I guess it’s better to call it reverse Alien style.’ Erica said she needed to run an errand, and she didn’t want me to go with her. ‘She’s clearly worried about me, so she invited all our friends to make sure I don’t do something rash, I guess? I don’t know. I’d rather be with Erica, though.’

I grip the controller tighter, my knuckles turning white as I navigate the poison swamp that is Blighttown. The dim light from the TV flickers across our faces, casting eerie shadows in the otherwise dark room.

“Fuck!” I yell as I get hit again. “I don’t know how to get the fuck out of here!”

Justine leans forward, her fiery red hair brushing against my arm. “Blighttown? Really, Jason? That’s like, the armpit of Dark Souls.”

I roll my eyes, trying not to get distracted by her closeness. “Tell me about it. I’ve been here for hours.”

Tara’s gaze flicks to the screen, a spark of recognition lighting up her dark eyes. “Oh man, I used to be fucking cracked at this game back in middle school.”

Nikki snorts, elbowing Tara playfully. “Yeah, cause you were a big ol’ nerd.”

“Hey!” Tara protests, but there’s no real heat in it. She shrugs, a wry smile twisting her lips. “True, though. At least until I started rolling with Erica freshman year.”

I can’t help but wonder about the change in Tara’s life. From gaming nerd to delinquent? That’s quite the 180. But before I can ask, my character dies again.

“Fuck me!” I growl, resisting the urge to throw the controller. “This game is so aggressive.”

I take a deep breath, trying to calm the storm of rage building inside me. With deliberate slowness, I set the controller down on the coffee table, my movements careful and controlled like I was handling a bomb. The PlayStation whirs softly as I reach for the power button, pressing it with perhaps a bit more force than necessary. The screen blinks to black, Blighttown’s poison swamp fading into merciful oblivion.

“Fuck that noise.” I mutter, leaning back on the couch. The leather creaks under my weight, cool against my sweat-dampened shirt. I run a hand through my hair, tugging slightly at the roots. “I need a break before I put my fist through the fucking TV.”

Justine chuckles, patting my knee. “Probably for the best, dude. You were starting to look a little... unhinged there.”

I snort, rolling my eyes. “Yeah, yeah. Laugh it up fuzzball.” My gaze drifts to Tara, curiosity piqued by her earlier comment. “Hey, speaking of unhinged... what was Erica like back in freshman year?”

The atmosphere in the room shifts, a sudden tension crackling through the air like static electricity. Tara and Nikki exchange a look, something unspoken passing between them.

Nikki’s the first to break the silence, her voice uncharacteristically hesitant. “Well, freshman Erica was... something else. Like a force of nature, you know? All piss and vinegar, ready to throw down at the drop of a hat.”

Tara nods, her eyes distant as if lost in memory. “Girl had a reputation.”

“What kind of reputation?” I ask, leaning forward, suddenly hungry for details about this younger, wilder version of my girlfriend.

Justine snorts, shaking her head. “The kind that makes teachers nervous and keeps the school counselor up at night. Erica was always spoiling for a fight, looking for any excuse to throw hands.”

“No shit,” Nikki chimes in, a hint of admiration in her voice. “I remember this one time some senior made the mistake of trying to scold her in the hallway. Erica didn’t even hesitate. Just walked right up to her and head butted her so hard the other girl went down like a sack of shit.”

‘Awwww, That was the move that brought me back to her. Nostalgic.’ I smile as I remember when she taught me how effective head butts are.

I lean back, absorbing this new information about Erica’s past. “Damn, that’s wild. So she was always a badass, huh?”

Tara nods a hint of nostalgia in her eyes. “Yeah, but she wasn’t our leader back then. We were just freshmen, you know? Erica was a year ahead of us.”

“Oh, right,” I say, suddenly remembering. “She stayed back a year, I always forget.”

“Yep,” Nikki confirms, fidgeting with the hem of her shirt. “Our old leader was pretty chill. More about skipping class and smoking behind the bleachers or getting high than actual fighting.”

Tara snorts. “Yeah, until she graduated at the end of our sophomore year. That’s when Erica really stepped up.”

There’s a moment of silence, heavy with unspoken memories. Nikki shifts uncomfortably, her eyes darting around the room as if searching for an escape.

“What happened then?” I prompt, curiosity burning through me.

Tara shrugs a casual gesture that doesn’t quite match the intensity in her eyes. “Erica... changed. Got harder, I guess. Started outright bullying people instead of just fighting back when provoked.”

Nikki winces. “We did a lot of bad things back then.”

The room feels colder suddenly, shadows stretching longer across the walls. I swallow hard, trying to reconcile this image with the Erica I know.

“Like what?” I ask, not sure if I really want to know the answer.

Tara leans forward, eyes glinting with a mix of excitement and something darker. “Man, those were the days. We’d corner girls in the bathroom and shake them down.”

She laughs, but it’s a hollow sound. “There was this one time Erica caught some freshman talking shit. She dragged her into the locker room and-”

“Tara,” Nikki interrupts sharply, her face pale. “Maybe we shouldn’t.”

Tara’s eyes dart between Nikki and me, her expression flickering between mischief and hesitation. Finally, she lets out a long breath and nods.

“True,” she says, her voice low and tinged with a hint of dark amusement. “We don’t want lover boy here to fall out of love if he finds out his girlfriend used to be the bad kind of bully they write stories about.”

I can feel their eyes on me, waiting for a reaction. But I just shrug, leaning back into the couch cushions. “I couldn’t give a shit about it.” I say, my voice flat and uninterested.

Tara’s eyebrows shoot up, surprise etched across her features. “Oh? Is that because you can look beyond someone’s past? You think maybe you fixed her?” she asks, a note of challenge in her voice.

I snort, shaking my head. “Fuck No.” I reply, meeting her gaze steadily. “I just don’t give a shit if Erica is a bully or not. I only care about Erica loving me.”

Tara’s face scrunches up in confusion, her eyebrow arching high. “Wait, what? I thought you’d be all about trying to ‘fix’ Erica or some shit. You know, like those sappy romance novels where the good guy saves the bad girl from herself.”

Justine lets out a sharp laugh, the sound cutting through the tension like a knife. “How could you possibly think that, Tara? Have you even met Jason?” She gestures at me with a sweeping motion, her eyes gleaming with amusement. “This guy’s about as likely to ‘fix’ someone as a fish is to climb a tree.”

Tara shoots Justine a dirty look, her lips curling into a sneer. “Oh, shut it. I’ve seen it happen before, alright? Lots of guys fall for that trap, thinking they can be the one to tame the wild girl.” She rolls her eyes dramatically, twirling a strand of her choppy black hair around her finger. “It’s like a fucking disease or something.”

I can’t help but chuckle, shaking my head. “Nah, you’ve got it all wrong, Tara. I certainly love that Erica’s a bad girl, but that’s just because I like her control issues.” I pause, a dreamy smile spreading across my face as I think about Erica’s domineering presence. “There’s something incredibly hot about a woman who knows exactly what she wants and isn’t afraid to take it.”

The room falls silent for a moment, everyone staring at me with varying degrees of shock and amusement. Then Tara bursts out laughing, the sound echoing off the walls. “Oh my god, you’re fucking hopeless, aren’t you?” she wheezes between giggles, clutching her sides.

I shrug, completely unbothered by her reaction. “Maybe,” I admit, still smiling. “But I’m happy being hopeless if it means I get to be with Erica.”

As if summoned by our conversation, the door suddenly slams open with a thunderous bang. Erica storms in, her presence filling the room like a storm cloud. Her blue eyes are blazing with barely contained fury, her long blonde hair a wild tangle around her face. The scent of cigarette smoke and leather clings to her like a second skin.

“Alright, everyone, get the fuck out!” she barks, her voice rough and commanding. The others scramble to their feet, exchanging nervous glances.

I remain seated, knowing instinctively that her order doesn’t apply to me. Erica’s gaze softens almost imperceptibly when it lands on me, confirming my obvious hunch.

As Tara, Nikki, and Justine gather their things, Erica’s posture relaxes slightly. “Thanks for watching him while I was gone.” she says, her tone gruff but sincere.

Tara mumbles under her breath, just loud enough for us to hear, “Don’t know why it took three people to watch one guy.”

Nikki elbows her sharply. “Shut up,” she hisses as they file out the door.

“Uhm Erica, Uhh I was wondering if you and Jason could help me with my Star Wars fan fiction soon.” Justine looks at the ground as she addresses Erica.

Erica clicks her tongue and speaks coldly. “Why the fuck are asking me?”

Justine stands her ground steeling herself as she speaks again. “It’s just that I know that Jason don’t go out without you, and i’d really love your take on what I’ve written.”

I step in at this point feeling like I owe Justine a lot from this and my past life. “We’d love to Justine. We can come over later this week just send us a link to your story.”

Erica looks as though I shot her and clicks her tongue again. “Fine! Whatever, I’ll read it now get out!.”

Justine scurry’s out. saying “Thank you!”

The moment the door clicks shut behind her, Erica’s demeanor changes completely. She crosses the room in three long strides and engulfs me in a bone-crushing hug. I inhale deeply, savoring her familiar scent of smoke.

“I missed you.” I murmur into her hair, my arms wrapping tightly around her waist.

Erica pulls back just enough to look at me, her blue eyes softening with an emotion that makes my heart skip a beat. “I know.” she says, her voice husky. “But I missed you more.”

I can’t help but grin at her words, even as my curiosity bubbles up. “So, where’d you disappear to all day?” I ask, keeping my tone light and casual.

Erica’s eyes flicker away for a split second before meeting mine again. “Just some rich girl errands.” she says with a shrug, her voice nonchalant. “Nothing exciting.”

I study her face, noticing the slight tension in her jaw. Something’s off, but I push down the urge to pry. Instead, I take her hand.

“Hey,” I say softly, “you know I trust you implicitly, right? There’s nothing, and I mean nothing, you could do that I would judge you for.”

Erica’s eyes widened slightly, and a mix of emotions flashed across her face. For a moment, it looks like she wants to spill everything. Her lips part, then close again. She takes a deep breath.

“Jason, I...” she starts, then stops. Her fingers tighten around mine. “It’s something I don’t want you to know.”

My heart races, a thousand possibilities running through my mind. But I force myself to nod, squeezing her hand back.

“Okay.” I say simply.

Erica’s piercing blue eyes narrow, her blonde hair swaying as she leans in close. “Wait, what? Aren’t you curious?” she asks, her voice a mix of disbelief and suspicion.

I can’t help but chuckle, running a hand through my hair. “Of course I am. I mean, who wouldn’t be? But...” I trail off, my gaze drifting to the ceiling. “I don’t think you’d keep a secret without a good reason.”

Suddenly, Erica’s hands are on my shoulders, shaking me with surprising strength. Her face is inches from mine, those blue eyes blazing with an intensity that makes my heart skip.

“Dammit, Jason! You’re too trusting!” she growls, but there’s a hint of something else in her voice. Fear? Concern?

I grab her wrists gently, steadying her. “Maybe.” I admit with a lopsided grin. “But I only trust you this much, Erica. No one else.”

She stares at me, her grip loosening. I can smell the faint scent of cigarettes that always cling to her. “If you kept secrets from me.” she says slowly, her voice dropping to a dangerous whisper, “I might actually kill you.”

I can’t help but laugh, even as a shiver runs down my spine. “And that,” I say, leaning in to press my forehead against hers, “is why I love you, my possessive, controlling muse.”

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