Welcome to the Yandere Cabine☕

Pierrot

Your sweet Pierrot's shyness goes out the window once love making is on the table. He'll often ask you what type of love you'd want in the moment, whether it be sweet sensual love making, or a primal mating session. He's always willing to accommodate his darling the best he can for as long as he wants. (Best to set up a safe word with him beforehand, for your body's safety).

It's no surprise he has a raging body worship and breeding kink. It doesn't matter if it's gentle, rough, primal, he will always sing your praises and show his devotion to your temple of a body whenever there's oxygen in his lungs. He'll smother you in kisses and lick trails across every inch of your body if you'll let him. Your skin under attack from his sharp teeth that gently scrape and nip at your sensitive zones. He always asks to bite you however, starting off with complete pleas but eventually devolving to a desperate "please". But once you give him permission one too many times he loses his self control.

You'd have to use the jaws of life to pry his mouth off of your core, this man will eat, suck, and tongue fuck you to tears nearly every time, and then some. He loves holding you in place as you writhe under him, his tongue explores every nook and cranny in your sensitive hole. The sweet sounds you make egging him on to see just how far he could push you before your complete and utter ruin. Your body is a temple he swore to worship, but sometimes a little desecration gives him even more reason to rebuild his devotion.

Pierrot also has a deadly breeding kink and a knot to match. His primal instincts take hold once feels his knot start to inflate, gutteral growls and pants filling the void of his usual praises, his petnames transforming into a slurry of possessive "mine's".

He purrs into your neck once his knot finally slots itself inside you, his cock pulsing rhythmically as he shoots his cum deep inside you. Sometimes even chasing the pleasure for both of you by pulling his knot out just to ram it back inside you, knot-fucking you, sinful squelches only encouraging him to fill you to the brim again. He yearns to leave his mark on you in every sense, including watching his cum seeping out of your abused hole.

Harlequin

His usual flirty banter seemingly hits new highs as sex becomes a regular occurrence for you. Often accompanied by sarcastic remarks about how long it takes for you to warm up enough for his tastes. Foreplay for him mostly just includes a hunter/prey dynamic that gets both of your hearts racing. His usual petnames change to prey items, "bunny, rabbit, lamb, and fawn" being common ones. He loves the thrill of a chase and the accomplishment of an easy catch. "Run, little rabbit, let's see how far you make it this time."

Without a doubt his tendrils come into play routinely. Restricting your movement, snaking their way under your clothes, teasing the sensitive flesh underneath. All while he has his way marking what is rightfully his, sometimes to the point of blood play, his personal reward for a successful hunt. His ropes often stretching your hole thoroughly before he even reveals his cocks. Yes plural.

Just like Pierrot, he enjoys seeing you squirm and buck against his tendrils in a pitiful attempt for a break. You're a sopping wet mess around him and he always reminds you of it. "My my, such a sinful little disaster you can be, little fawn~. Keep crying out, maybe someone can bask in your misery~." His dirty talk works better than most vibrators ever could dream of.

Harlequin is quite proud of his cocks, stacked on top of each other with the top having a dramatic curve upwards and the bottom being girthy. Although his favorite thing is to take advantage of your spent state only to push both of his cocks in you at once, using his ropes to move your weakened body like his personal fleshlight. It takes him a while to cum so be sure to make yourself useful, little lamb.

If you show him genuine affection and love it honestly takes him aback. Sometimes completely stopping the encounter with an utter of your mutual save word from his trembling lips. After enough talks and bonding he'd be more inclined to allow you to take the lead and show him the true side of intimacy. Gentle caresses, loving kisses, and slow rolls of your hips sending him to a whole new plane of pleasure, one that only you hold the keys to, treat him gently and he might get addicted to this side of sex, just don't mention his choked whimpers and groans as he tries to hide his face into his arms.

Jester

"Come pet, entertain me." He purrs as he yanks your leash closer to him, his hand trailing from your jaw to your chin, it's sharp claw cutting your skin ever so gently. You were nothing but a means for stress relief to him, and you will serve your purpose. Before any stress relief takes place however, you both have an extended conversation on boundaries, safewords, terms and conditions, he even went as far as to compile a contract for you to initial, and he will enforce any violations.

One of his favorite bonding activities with you is shibari. Seeing you tied up is one thing but seeing what kind of intricate designs he can place on your beautiful figure is an art form to him. He always offers his pet the choice of color. Sometimes you two talk about anything that comes to mind, others however you must be in your best behavior. "Good pets don't bark unprompted. Try that again and we'll have to refresh your training."

His dirty talk is an intoxicating combination of degradation and praise that keeps your breath in your lungs. "Such a sad little creature, I haven't even done much to warrant this much of a reaction from you. And yet, look at the beautiful mess you've become." Your moans are his favorite symphony and he is but a humble composer. Often using toys to bring you pleasure, vibrators strapped to your tied form, always being pulled away if you get too close to cumming. Blindfolds to keep you guessing what would come next, gags if you get too lippy for his tastes.

He absolutely is just in it to watch you come undone under his touch. Edging you for hours to the brink of tears, seeing how far he can push you before you disobey and act out of line. Often avoiding your hole and opting to tease the rest of your body, featherlight touches dancing around your eager body. Being a greedy brat is often met with a fierce reminder to your sensitive skin. His often marks your skin with a riding crop, although if you've learned your lesson he might honor your skin with his handprint.

"I suppose you've been good enough to warrant release, my sweet pet, do you wish for me to take you now? To finally ravish you? To claim you as my own?" He eventually pities you enough to ravage your hole with his Eldritch cocks, although a collection of smaller tentacles, he has complete control over each of them, often twisting them into one cohesive appendage. Every single one of your sweet spots inside of you thoroughly ravaged as he expertly angles individual tentacles to mercilessly bring you release after release. He only officially marks you right at the pinnacle of his release, sinking his fangs into the crook of your neck as his cocks pulse deep inside of you, pumping fertile eggs into your warm body, a few of the cocks slithering out to coat your body in his essence, smearing his scent around your claimed body.

Ticket Taker

It's not surprising that Ticket Taker will train you and train you well. After all, good humans earn their place with obedience. He will Pavlov you into behaving with positive reinforcement. "Tell me what you want and it will be yours, but I will not stand for silence." It's surprisingly a good trust building activity between the two of you, a sense of intimate closeness and fully exploring each other's open boundaries, and a confidence builder for any insecurities you may have.

"I want you to look at nothing but my eyes, my dear." Your glazed eyes flicking up to his as his mirror form splits you open on its phantom fingers. The stretch filling your eyes with tears as you tried to concentrate on the simple order he gave you, only to give into your body and shut them only for a moment. "Ah ah ah, you know the rules," he tuts as the feeling of being full seemingly vanishes, a desperate whine escaping your pretty little throat.

If you have body image issues he's just the monster to fuck some sense into you. He'll position reflections of every sinful angle so you can watch his grooved cock sliding deep within you, your stomach bulging out at the overwhelming curves of his smooth ridges. "Your beauty is marvelous, my dear, look at yourself," he firmly grabs you by your chin moving it towards one of the mirrors, the sight of your disheveled body something out of a fantasy. "I want you to list off the qualities that you like about yourself as I take you to the edge of oblivion."

Some nights when he's especially pent up expect his mirror doppelgangers to join in on the night's indulgences. Spit roasting, Eiffel towers, double penetration, even him just allowing his mirror images to turn you into a breathtaking sight as he finishes up his work for the evening.

When he does reach his limit he opts to claim you from the inside out, his ribbed cock inflating into multiple knots as he pumps his cum into you, often seeping out from your opening. He rarely ever allows his knots to deflate before gingerly pulling from you, opting for immediate aftercare, always praising you for your performance, even going as far to highlight his favorite parts to boost your ego.

Doctor

Doctor is immensely curious about every single facet of your body. It's no surprise that he'd make every instance into an experiment after the first time you had vanilla sex. (His control for future intercourse). Anywhere from watching how you squirm away from hot wax dripping on your warm body, to your startled gasp when an ice cube was pressed to your nipples. But his favorite so far has to be using you as his personal anatomical model. Taking a marker and intricately drawing representations of your internal organs where they lie beneath your delicate skin, annotating terminology accordingly. Using your body's curves as guides for muscle groups, tracing your pulse points drawing snaking lines where your arteries and veins lie.

Although if you bring up the obvious roleplay with him he'll not only find it amusing but also indulge your wishes, if that's what his sweetie wishes. Your arousal is intoxicating to him regardless of what you decide on. The way your heart races, the change in blood pressure, the way your body screams out its desires in its silent language he would spend centuries to decipher. If you turn the tables on him and try to run your own diagnostics on him for a change you'll hear a genuine chuckle, "my sweetie wishes to be my personal nurse? How can I object to such a tempting mutual learning experience."

It's not uncommon for the Doctor to accidentally nick you with one of his claws, the smell of your blood sometimes sending him into a frenzy. Licking at the wound, throwing away any chances of a meaningful experiment he allows his impulses to take hold. Gutteral growls and snarls replace his usual mutters of hypotheses. His frantic movements sometimes cause more scratches and more blood to rise to the surface. His cock straining painfully for any form of friction. His hands frantically try to prepare you for him, using whatever control he has left to not wound you internally with his claws. "Sweetie, I fear I cannot hold back any longer. I must take you as you are."

Normally he prefers a few hours to your preparation if you agree to penetration. His cock is the most well endowed of the troupe, fitted with multiple ridges that increase in thickness, the curve dangerously similar to a hook. Every ridge accompanied by a metal ball of his jacob's ladder, and a prince albert to boot. He always lubes himself and your hole to avoid any potential tearing, but when he gets this worked up he just squeezes a sloppy amount in his hands and gives himself a few strokes before lining himself up at your entrance. "I know, I know, sweetie. Just a little more." he gently lies to you as his cock stutters inside you, each ridge popping inside you stretching you to your limit.

Once he's fully seated inside you he allows you to accommodate only for a moment before dragging his cock out of you, his thrusts starting off as gentle before escalating to a brutal pace once he was confident you could handle it. His cockhead pummeling against your sensitive walls causing him to growl at the sensation. His hand snakes down in between your bodies to bring you further pleasure as if his overwhelming body wasn't enough. He simply just wants to push you to your limits and see your reactions, feeling your body's reaction to his was intoxicating enough. He always cums deep and hard, thrusting roughly in between pulses to guarantee any chances of impregnation, biology be damned. After a moment he pulls out to watch your body spasm, making mental notes of how his cum seeps out of you. Next time if he angles your body just right, maybe more of his cum will remain inside you.

Pierrot

"M-my dear, p-please let me-" Pierrot's trembling words were swiftly cut off with a gasp as your cheeks hallowed out around his cock.

He never expected you to suck him off, let alone pounce on him almost the second he sat down on your bed. His lanky torso bent over you, his eyes studying every detail of your body. The way you rest on your knees, the curve of your ass, the way you worked his shaft with both of your hands, the way your tongue teased his tip, the way you'd switch between licking from his balls to tip to suddenly taking in as much as you could in your mouth.

You were playing a dangerous game with him and you had no idea you were playing.

Whimpers and groans left his lips as he took in the moment, his knot gradually inflating with your efforts. Drool was starting to drip off of his masked grin, orange hearts occasionally meeting yours when you flicked your eyes to his. You reached up to his cheek lightly caressing it lovingly before you took his tip fully into your mouth again.

"My A-angel, you are simply divine," his words slipped out of him breathlessly, almost as if he was pledging his devotion to you.

Your hand wandered up towards his hair, brushing it out of his face as you gripped the base of his knot tighter, causing his hips to strain against the urge to buck into you deeper. Your hand lightly grazed the base of his horns and that's when you heard fabric tearing. You glanced up at him as you sucked down onto his cock, his face a beautiful shade of red, his eyes closed as he lowered his head closer to your hand, his breath hitching as you traced every bump and ridge of the base of his horn. Sinful whimpers and groans slipping through his ragged breaths. His eyes cracked open to meet yours, pinprick hearts gradually dilated as his grin widened.

Your mouth left his cock with an audible pop as you checked on him. He was an absolute wreck, panting like a beast, sweat pooling on his body, his eyes never left yours as he growled in desperate frustration above you. You glanced at his hands and found the source of the noise, his clawed hands grasped at your sheets so tightly they shredded as if they were tissues, looking closer you could see that your mattress was also a casualty in your exploration.

"My darling, I need you to do that again. I need it more than I need air to breathe, please, oh please please please," pants and groans occasionally interrupted his words. His cock throbbing rhythmically, a soft amber glaze steadily seeping out of the flared head.

You grinned as you readied to take his length into your mouth again before he grasped your shoulders firmly.

"No, my love, my horns. Please. Touch them, grope them, fondle them, please, do anything to them, I need-" his train of thought seemingly derailed as he pulled you up to stand.

"I've got a better idea, my darling," a lustful chuckle erupted from his throat as he laid on his back, guiding you to kneel over his chest.

"I want to pleasure you in the same way you did me, but I want you to grind on my horns too, I need you to use me, I need your body to quiver above me as I worship your very core. Please, honor me with your divinity?"

His tongue slithered out of his fanged grin, lapping at the sweat that accumulated on his cheek, almost inviting you to the best seat in the house.

Harlequin

"Such a filthy little thing, aren't you?" Harlequin enunciated your new petname with deeper more forceful thrusts, his larger cock driving deep inside of your body while his second cock rubbed against your sensitive core, the slight ribbing sending you over the edge for who knows how many times now.

"That makes six now, my dear" he mockingly laughed as your body tensed around him, your legs straining to close shut against his tentacles, pleading for freedom. "I do enjoy seeing you unravel for me," he leaned down to trace his forked tongue across a bare spot on your neck before sinking his teeth into your delicate skin.

Your back arched causing his jaws on your neck to tighten, his thrusts growing more feral at your struggle to contain yourself. Your hands snaked behind his head tangling in his curls as he chuckled.

Your fingers kept combing through until you reached the base of his horns, without even thinking about it you gripped the backs of them holding on to him for dear life as he slammed his hips into yours, an uncharacteristic moan ripping from his throat as his cocks pulsed in and against you, shooting cum deep inside of you and in between the two of you. His hips straining to keep himself deep inside of you as if his life depended on it.

After catching your breath you experimentally rubbed his horns causing another weak moan to slip out against your neck, his body trembling into yours, practically melting into you.

"I do enjoy seeing you unravel for me too, Quin," you teasingly traced your fingertips from the underside of the base towards the tip causing his back to arch up off of your torso, his cocks twitching with new motivation.

"You," he stifled a groan that dared to slip past his bravado, "you have no idea what you're doing do you?"

"I'm a quick learner," you grinned at him as his eyes pleaded for any semblance of mercy.

You decided against it.

You suddenly gripped his horns at the base and gently yet firmly guided his head back, exposing his neck to you. You returned the favor as you licked from his collarbone up towards his pulse point.

"W-wait, my dear, I-"

You sank your teeth into his neck and bit hard enough to draw his blood, your hands stroking his horns, memorizing every detail, every movement his body makes, every sinful whimper and moan catalogued for future teasing.

His hips pulled away from you pitifully before sloppily rutting back inside, one of his hands braced against the bed as the other supported your back as he allowed himself this indulgence.

"M-more, please," he gasped, taking every bit of willpower in him to keep chasing his high.

You detached from his skin before switching sides, biting once again with enough force to cause blood to drip down in between the two of you, his ropes pulling your legs farther apart as his thrusts became more desperate.

You alternated between grabbing his horns and using them as handles to essentially jacking them off, using his moans as a guide to his own demise.

You pulled away from his skin and leaned into his supporting hand, his eyes cracked open seeing his blood covering your lips and dripping down your chin, watching your face contort into pleasure as he railed you with as much fervor as the first orgasm he gave you. He watched as your tongue licked away some of his blood, your lidded eyes making contact with his own pinpricks.

"F-Fuck!!" He cranked his head back as he filled your body with more of his cum, his second cock shooting cum with enough force to cover your face and tongue, mixing with his blood on your sinful lips. His whimpers matched every throb and shiver his body mustered.

"That makes- that makes two now, you filthy little thing," you mocked in between you catching your breath.

Harlequin couldn't help but smile, a shaky laugh escaping his frantic lungs.

his fingers were swift. taking off the straps. he watched as you moved. the figure that was much smaller. less harsh and hard around the edges. of someone who was not accustomed to heavy loaded work like them. your gait was unsteady from the sedative he had administrated. he had been careful. of course, he had been so careful with the dosage. just enough to calm you down. it was just enough to make the world a lot softer at the edges. just enough that you would not remember the way his eyes had flickered to an ominous red. he just watched as you had left the tent.

he continued to watch you. his gaze never truly left your form. watching as you clutch the cyan ticket that he only gave to a few… he did not move. not one bit, but he was watching. his hand had twitched. like he was trying to memorise the touch. the way your cheek felt, the weight… the softness. he let his hand to relax. the cyan of his goggles went dull. in something much quieter… it was not the quietness of nothing. it wasn’t a flat look, or one of disinterest. he could still feel the thrumming of your heartbeat against his palm. he had remembered how he had counted it without meaning to… but he always did. he always found it so fascinating with humans. the workings of their bodies. it was truly fascinating… so interesting. however. there was something different from yours compared to the many who had waltzed into his tent.

yours had been exactly right. it wasn’t approximately. it was not similar. of course. he was someone who believed in facts and science… it was just… the same tempo. the same pressure. the small little flutter from different beats that he had catalogued and memorise over a century ago. so… so many nights. when he had pressed close. trying to replicate the feeling. the sensation. he had slowly lowered his hands. curling his fingers into a tight fist before slowly loosened it. the gloves made a soft creak as he did so. ❛ you are not them ❜ he told himself. he closed his eyes. the words landed somewhere in his chest… yet it did not take root into his foundation that he had built. years had passed and grief was a fickle mistress. where it was hard to truly let you go. even when he understood that he had only known them for a brief time of his long life… truly… it was peculiar. how one simple life can change one’s life… a simple blimp in his long life.

his gaze turned to the white clad figure. yet the doctor did not physically turn to acknowledge the fool. he walked to the examination chair… where you had been bound only minutes before they were interrupted. the restraints were now loose… empty. his clawed tops traced along the seat. pressing his finger against the warmth… it still faintly lingers. he trailed along the armrest. ❝ you have something to say? ❞ he asked, wondering when the message would be. from the faint traces of purple. it must be jester who had sent the fool. ❝ they knew too much. ticket taker’s report was… rather concerning ❞ the voice of the controlled human came rather thin and rough. it was like air was escaping and struggling too come out a balloon with a simple hole. the fool had paused. ❝ you had let them go ❞ it continued to speak.

❝ i gave them a ticket ❞ doctor answered his oldest friend amongst the troupe. ❝ i saw ❞ it continued. the doctor slowly turned towards the fool. ❝ then you saw what just happened ❞ the doctor answered. though as he watched the white clad fold step close. ❝ the issue is that you gave a cyan ticket. your ticket ❞ it continued. but the doctor did not say or respond. ❝ cyan tickets are not those who know too much… not for- for- ❞ the fool try to articulate the words from the purple clad jester that was mere feet’s away. ❝ i know. i am aware of what cyan tickets are for ❞ it was for those that had piqued their interest. a game of sorts they had started. and he was one that gave out the least. he can almost count the amount of those he gave out in just one hand… compared to the others. the silence between the two had that kind of weight. the one that pressed heavy.

❝ doctor ❞ the fool said. there was something gentle in it… but there was a hint of warning. ❝ who was that? ❞ and just as the doctor remained there. his cyan eyes met the hollow gaze of the fool’s mask. ❝ they were a patient. nothing more. nothing less ❞ the doctor responded. ❝ that is not what i asked ❞ the fool spat out. the doctor stared at the human… no, at the mirage of jester. the one he had met first. he knew how protective jester was to the memory of them that it bordered dangerous. like the idea of someone would ever sully their name or the memory. he could count so many instances… yet he knew that jester was a patient man. ❝ you… you wanted to know if they are a threat ❞ the doctor asked. he had paused as he watched the guarded figure. even when jester was not physically there, the body of the controlled fools… almost followed the movement of their leader.

❝ they had… their heartbeat ❞ the doctor’s words came out before he could truly stop it. ❝ not a heartbeat. it was theirs… they breathed in the same cadence… and their fear… the fear had the same tempo… same flavour ❞ the doctor spoke. as he watched the fool pause. it was very still. ❝ doctor. ❞ the sound sounded like fury hidden behind politeness and grace. ❝ that is not possible ❞ the fool had answered. ❝ the one you speak of… meu sol…is dead ❞ the fool had made sure his words, his tone was measured. ❝ but… they were about to say something before you had interrupted ❞ the doctor turned to stare at the gap of the tent. the night sky. the soft glow of the lights. ❝ ale— they had began to say something. a name… or perhaps someone who had knew me… or— ❞

❝ or nothing. ❞ the fool cut in. ❝ a coincidence. a half formed word. the sedative was already in their systems. their thoughts… were not coherent ❞ the fool had continued. ❝ that is the logical conclusion ❞ the doctor had nodded. and he could see the fool twitched. while his gaze turned down to his hand. hands that cradled your cheek not ten minutes before with a tenderness that should have been impossible for the likes of him. ❝ their name… was written down. it was shaky. almost like they were writing their own death warrant ❞ the doctor laughed silently. ❝ the initials… ❞ which only had made the fool step closer. ❝ do not make the same mistake. bil had been mistaken by tricks like this before ❞ the fool gazed up. he was serious. ❝ you are wondering if you want them to be them… doctor. you are no fool. there is no chance they are alive ❞

then he watched as the fool turned to head back to the purple tent. it was a word of caution. a warning. he had slowly sat on the large chair. it creaked beneath him. he had closed his eyes. remembering the single syllable… ale— just a syllable. it could have been anything. alessandra. alex. alec. alexander. or it could have been a sneeze. a cough. a random exhalation. but you were looking at him when you said it. your eyes blown wide… yes. but was focused. you were looking at him. at him. there was something in your gaze. not recognition. not exactly. that would be too simple. it was…. almost like a shadow of recognition. the doctor slowly pressed his palm against his chest. feeling the sound of his heart. trying to remember something that his own memory had long faded but a few.

❛ ale— ❜

❝ alexandrite ❞ he had quietly muttered to himself. like a hope that was as small as a small flame.

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the moment you stepped out. you felt like you thoughts were a jumble… or possibly like things in a jar filled with water. shaking. shaking. the outside sky was already a dark colour gradients of blues and purples. the lights were buzzing. everything felt like stroke lights… just as you squint, trying your best to focus… you started panicking. your friend. where did your friend go? you heart felt like it was punching against your ribs. you can just feel the panic trying to break through. yet it felt like it was getting smothered and muffled. ❛ where? ❜ you turban in a slow circle. the music that was playing, felt wrong. the melody was all wrong. the notes seem like a jumble, playing half notes, either a step fast or step slow. your tongue felt dead in your mouth as you started to walk. and every step felt like dragging lead across. you keep seeing things at the edges of the tents.

you can feel the panic climbing now. clawing its way up through the fog. everything felt like it was building in your chest. whatever you took, would not let your body match the terror. you felt so trapped. your phone? it was dead. you don’t even remember it dying. as two things were having a war in your nervous system. and you were definitely losing at both fronts. you were shaking and trembling. your vision kept tunnelling. as your arms were tightly wrapped around yourself. trying to put in the weight somehow. just as you continued to walk. you can see the food stalls. the scent made you so nauseous. the popcorn. the half eaten pretzels. the fried dough. everything just felt like a dizzying mess.

and there… at the very end, sitting on a crate, talking to the one dressed in the blue suit and half masked. your friend. just as you sped up toward them, your gaze stared at the man. was it a glare? possibly not but the intent was there. the moment ticket taker spotted you, he was quick to politely bow to your friend before leaving, which only made your anxiety soar. what were they talking about? did your friend had no idea about how this circus was absolute bad news. just as you approached, your friend must have heard the sound of your footsteps, because they turned to look at you. their expression was neutral. mild. untroubled. utterly normal compared to you. ❝ oh hey, took you long enough ❞ your friend said. as they stared at you, with concern. ❝ you okay? you look kind of out of it ❞ they questioned. you looked at the food in their hand. half eaten. the drink in their hand, half finished.

❝ why… were you talking to that guy ❞ you asked, your friend who sat there eating. ❝ oh! i did a quick visit to the blue tent! it was extremely fun, just mirrors. he was outside the tent when i did a quick visit ❞ your friend answered, gulping the food. you stood there as you were trying to calm your mind. hearing how your friend was not aware the eerie feeling around the circus. you stared at your friend, pinching the bridge of your nose. ❝ you should stop by. it was just mirrors. there is quite a few people in there. it is quite calming ❞ your friend smiled. you stared at your friend and slowly trailed your eyes towards the blue tent to just looms over the circus… just like every single tent. it felt like you were in a forest, in a dark dark wooded area… trees loomed, the branches… they were trying to cover the sky. it was… enclosing.

❝ i… ❞ you were uncomfortable. both at the idea of leaving your friend again… but also going into the tent that from deduction? was ran by the man from the front. though, now you have so many questions… so many needed to be answered. why is it that everything seemed so… familiar yet so dreadful. like something is haunting the very ground. ghosts? some entity? you could not understand. and maybe in some sick way, you want to at least… get to the bottom of it. what can truly go wrong in a mirror tent? and somehow you thinking of that, it felt like you had just jinxed your future self. something can definitely happen. maybe one of the mirrors was a video or something. a mirage… before you had slowly nodded. ❝ i can go check it out ❞ you whispered. and seeing their smile, watching as they had patted your arm.

❝ it is just some simple mirrors ❞ they smiled. you stared, seeing the way your friend was being supportive… and well… you only came to make sure your friend didn’t end… up… you didn’t know what they would end up as. you nodded with a silence. before you slowly moved. still feeling the blur around the edges. softer. yet your mind and your heart was going in two different directions. your mind was soft, like a nice and… a little muddy… meanwhile your heart was racing at full speed. your heart was pumping in your chest. like you had ran a long marathon and had not yet stopped running. your hands was sweaty. ❝ wish me luck ❞ you muttered under your breath. forcing a smile on your face. as you quietly staggered towards the blue tent. trying to rationalise. you spent a lot of money on a ticket. it was right to visit all the attractions. just two more tents. and you can just leave and run away. never come back. just try to forget what you seen.

god. the sedative was still thrumming in your system. a slow river in your blood. and now you are here… wherever here was. you pushed through the flap. and inside… the world just fractured. mirrors. every surface was a mirror, well except for the ceiling, thankfully. the mirror was all polished. that made your reflection was clear. you stood there. you were seeing yourself… the multiplication was nauseating. and the tent was full. packed with people. and they don’t notice you. thats the first wrong thing…. and the second one? was the silence of it. you slowly blinked only to see that every single person… was almost removed. as if they were never there. you were alone in a tent of mirrors. you press your palms against your heart. grounding the technique. you close your eyes… before you slowly opened them.

still empty. still mirrors… still you, multiplied into meaninglessness. until you turned. the sound of a spotlight being turned on. a shadow appeared almost like a mirage merging from the fog. ❝ hm? my tent doesn’t usually attract that many curious souls… especially ones who seem so eager to run away ❞

and you did want to run away.

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