Finding a Yandere in Reverse World

Chapter 62: Witch, Please



The morning sun filters through the curtains, casting a soft, golden glow across the room. I’m standing in front of the full-length mirror, fumbling with the buttons of my shirt, when I catch sight of Erica behind me. She’s a vision, her blonde hair cascading down her back in loose waves, the sunlight catching each strand and turning it to spun gold. Her muscular form moves with a fluid grace as she slips on a tight black tank top that hugs her curves in all the right places.

I can’t help but stare, my fingers frozen mid-button. Erica catches my eye in the mirror, a slow, sultry smile spreading across her face. “Take a picture. It’ll last longer,” she purrs, her voice still husky from sleep.

A laugh bubbles up from my chest, breaking the spell. “Sorry,” I chuckle, shaking my head as I return to the task of dressing. “You’re just so hot, you know?”

Erica rolls her eyes, but I can see the pleased flush creeping up her neck. She saunters over, her hips swaying hypnotically, and reaches out to fix my collar. Her fingers brush against my skin, sending a shiver down my spine.

As she smooths down my shirt, a memory from yesterday flashes through my mind, Tessa’s unnervingly clear eye, that sinister wink. The uneasy feeling that’s been gnawing at me since then resurfaces.

“Hey, Erica?” I start, my voice hesitant. “There’s something I need to tell you about yesterday.”

She steps back, her blue eyes searching my face. “What is it?” she asks, a hint of concern creeping into her voice.

I take a deep breath, the words tumbling out in a rush. “It’s about Tessa. Just before she left, she... she winked at me. But it wasn’t like a drunk, sloppy wink. It was... deliberate. Clear. Like she wasn’t drunk at all.”

Erica’s brow furrows, her eyes narrowing slightly. “What do you mean?”

“It just gave me a bad vibe. I honestly don’t know what she meant by it.” I finish lamely, running a hand through my hair. “But it felt... off. Dangerous, maybe. I just don’t want to take any chances with anyone anymore.”

Erica nods slowly, her brow furrowed in thought. “Hmmm,” she says, her eyes distant as she processes this new information. “After I gave her that black eye, she was crying about how she missed me.”

Her voice trails off, lost in recollection. Suddenly, Erica moves. In one fluid motion, she’s behind me, her strong arms encircling my waist. I can feel the warmth of her body pressing against my back, her breath hot on my neck.

“If Tessa were to try and separate us,” Erica murmurs, her lips brushing against my ear, “I’d happily kill her.”

I feel myself melting into her embrace, my body molding against hers as if we were two pieces of a puzzle finally clicking into place.

“Thanks,” I whisper, my voice barely audible even in the quiet room.

Erica’s arms tighten around me, her lips ghosting along the shell of my ear. “Do you like it when I say I’ll kill someone for you, Jason?” she breathes, her voice low and husky.

A spark of electricity runs through my body, igniting every nerve ending. I feel myself falling deeper into Erica’s arms, my knees going weak as her words wash over me. The world narrows to just the two of us, the warmth of her body against mine.

“Yes,” I breathe, my voice barely more than a whisper. The single word hangs in the air between us, heavy with meaning.

Erica’s lips find my neck, planting a series of soft, teasing kisses along my skin. Each touch sends shivers down my spine, goosebumps erupting across my flesh. Her teeth graze my earlobe, and I have to bite back a moan.

Then, abruptly, she sighs. The sound is equal parts exasperation and amusement. “You’re such a psycho for getting turned on by that,” she murmurs, her breath hot against my ear.

I glance down, suddenly aware of the very obvious physical reaction I’m having to her words and touch. A giant erection strains against the fabric of my pants, impossible to ignore.

“Whoops,” I say, not even attempting to hide my arousal or feel embarrassed about it.

Erica chuckles, the sound low and throaty. She gives me one final squeeze before stepping away, leaving me feeling oddly bereft without her warmth.

She strides across the room, her movements fluid and purposeful. Grabbing her jacket from where it’s draped over a chair, she shrugs it on with practiced ease. Then, in one smooth motion, she snatches up my jacket and tosses it at me.

I catch it reflexively, still a bit dazed from our intimate moment.

“Come on,” Erica says, her voice now brisk and businesslike. “We’re going.”

I nod, slipping my arms into my jacket sleeves. “Yes, ma’am!”

*****

I shift my weight from one foot to the other, feeling the crunch of gravel beneath my shoes as Erica and I stand outside Louis’s modest two-story house. The late afternoon sun casts long shadows across the neatly trimmed lawn, and I can’t help but marvel at how normal everything looks. It’s almost jarring after spending so much time at Erica’s mansion.

I turn to Erica, taking in her fierce blue eyes and the way her blonde hair catches the light. “I can’t believe this was your idea,” I say, shaking my head in disbelief. “You, having me set up a hang with Jason? That’s a new one.”

Erica’s lips curl into a smirk, but there’s a dangerous glint in her eyes. “Don’t get used to it, babe. This is strictly business.” She cracks her knuckles. “I need to talk with Louis and... Riley about the spell I’m casting for her.”

The way she says Riley’s name sends a chill down my spine. It’s like hearing a cobra hiss right before it strikes.

‘Erica would look dope topless in jeans.’ My mind wanders far away.

The sound of footsteps approaching the door snaps me out of my thoughts. The door swings open, and I’m momentarily stunned by the woman standing before us. Louis’s mom is a complete knockout, all sleek curves and warm smiles.’ Her eyes crinkle at the corners as she beams at us.

I look over at Erica and start wondering what kind of mom she’ll be. Probably nothing like i can honestly conceptualize yet. ‘How do Yandere mom’s even act?’

“Oh, you must be Louis’s friends! Come in, come in!” She ushers us inside with a wave of her perfectly manicured hand. “I’m so thrilled to meet more of Louis’s little circle. He’s such a popular boy, you know.”

I can’t help but snort at that. If by ‘popular’ she means ‘total slut,’ then sure. But hey, this is what he wants, so I support it.

“Thanks for having us, Ms. Hill,” Erica purrs, laying on the charm thick. “I’m Erica, and this is my Jason.”

My cheeks flush at her words. ‘Her Jason. It’s possessive as hell, but damn if it doesn’t make my heart skip a beat.’

As we step into the living room, the scene before us is like something out of a bizarre soap opera. Louis is sprawled across the couch, looking like a Renaissance painting of a fallen angel. Irma’s curled up against him, her wild hair even more chaotic than usual, and there’s a hollow look in her eyes. Skye’s perched on the arm of the couch, clutching Louis’s hand like it’s a lifeline.

“Uh, hey guys,” I manage to croak out, feeling like I’ve just walked in on a funeral.

Louis lifts his head, flashing us that million-dollar smile that probably got half the town’s daughters grounded. “Jason, my man! And Erica. How are you guys.”

Erica’s eyes narrowed, her lips curling into a snarl that would make a lioness proud. “Where’s Riley?” she demands, her voice dripping with venom.

I feel my heart rate spike, caught between Erica’s intensity and the confused looks from our friends.

“Uh, she’s running late,” Louis stammers. “Traffic, you know?”

Skye’s eyes widen, her blonde ponytail swaying as she whips her head towards Louis. “Babe, you’re inviting my best friend over?” Her voice is a mix of surprise and concern, like she’s just discovered her boyfriend invited her mom to a kegger.

Louis shifts uncomfortably, his usual charm faltering under Skye’s gaze. “I, uh...”

“Are you adding another girlfriend to the mix?” Skye presses, her tone half-joking, half-worried. The room feels like it’s holding its breath, waiting for Louis’s response.

Louis lets out a nervous laugh, running a hand through his perfectly tousled hair. “No, no! Skye, Irma... you two are already a lot of work.” He flashes that winning smile, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “In the best way possible, of course.”

Skye bursts into laughter, the sound bright and clear, cutting through the tension like a knife. But Irma remains silent, her eyes unfocused, lost in some internal struggle that seems to have drained all the color from her usually vibrant face.

The contrast is jarring, Skye’s laughter, Irma’s silence, Louis’s nervous energy, and Erica’s barely contained rage. It’s like being in the eye of a very weird, very hormonal hurricane.

Erica grabs my hand, her grip firm and possessive, and pulls me towards the couch. We settle into the plush cushions, as far from the Louis-Skye-Irma tangle as possible. The leather creaks beneath us.

Louis’s mom swoops in with a bowl of Doritos, the sharp scent of artificial cheese cutting through the tension in the room. She sets it down on the coffee table with a graceful flourish, her eyes never leaving me. There’s something predatory in her gaze, like a cougar eyeing a particularly juicy deer.

“So, Jason,” she purrs, leaning in close enough that I can see the flecks of gold in her hazel eyes. “Where are you planning on going to college? A bright young man like you must have all sorts of options.”

‘I’m pretty sure I’m barely passing most of my classes right now, but thank you so much.’ I laugh in my own world.

I open my mouth to respond, but Erica beats me to it. Her voice is sharp enough to cut glass and just as brittle.

“Actually, Ms. Hill,” she says, emphasizing each syllable like she’s explaining something to a particularly slow child, “Jason and I have different plans. We’re focusing on starting a family as soon as we graduate and get married.”

The idea of being tied to Erica forever is thrilling in a way I can’t quite explain. ‘I cannot wait to make her my wife.’

Ms. Hill’s perfectly plucked eyebrows shoot up, disappearing beneath her bangs. “Oh my,” she says, her voice dripping with false sweetness. “That’s... ambitious. Are you sure you’re ready for such a big step?”

Erica’s arm snakes around my waist, pulling me closer. I can feel the heat radiating off her body and smell the faint scent of cigarette smoke clinging to her clothes. “We’re more than ready,” she growls, her eyes flashing dangerously.

Ms. Hill’s eyes flicker with a tinge of jealousy, but then her expression softens. She smiles gently at Erica, her voice taking on a wistful tone. “You two... you look like a great match. Hold on to him with dear life, sweetie. Most men hate being tied down, but this one?” She glances at me, her gaze appraising. “He looks more excited than the day I had Louis.”

Erica’s arm tightens around me, pulling me even closer. I can feel her heart racing against my side as she grins, pride radiating from every pore. “Oh, I plan to,” she purrs, her voice a mix of honey and steel.

The moment is shattered by a sharp knock at the door. Ms. Hill glides across the room, her shoes clicking against the hardwood floor. As she swings the door open, I catch a glimpse of familiar dark hair and tan skin.

Riley.

She steps inside, her eyes darting around the room before landing on Erica and me. The look on her face is like watching a glass shatter in slow motion, first shock, then pain, and finally, a kind of resigned devastation.

“Hey,” she mumbles. She looks lost, out of place in this cozy suburban living room.

Erica’s grip on me tightens even more, if that’s possible. I can practically feel the waves of possessiveness rolling off her. “Nice of you to finally join us, Riley,” she says, her voice dripping with false sweetness.

Skye’s face lights up like a Christmas tree, her megawatt smile practically blinding as she bounces up from her perch on the couch arm. “What’s up, bitch?” she calls out, her voice a mix of genuine excitement and playful teasing.

Riley winces at the words like they’re a surprise attack, her shoulders hunching slightly as if trying to make herself smaller. “Hey,” she mumbles, her eyes darting around the room, never quite settling on any one person.

Louis untangles himself from the couch, his movements smooth and deliberate. He leans down to speak to Skye, “Skye, babe, keep an eye on Irma for me, okay? Make sure she doesn’t do anything... rash.”

Skye’s eyes flicker to Irma’s still form, concern briefly clouding her sunny expression. “Got it, babe.”

Louis straightens up, running a hand through his perfectly tousled hair. He looks at Erica, then me, his gaze finally landing on Riley. “You three, follow me,” he says, his voice low and serious.

We file out of the living room like a bizarre conga line, Louis leading the way, Riley shuffling behind him, and Erica and I bringing up the rear. Erica’s hand is clasped tightly in mine, her grip almost painful.

Louis’s bedroom is exactly what you’d expect from a boy of this world, posters of pop stars I’ve never heard of plastered on the walls, a guitar propped in the corner, clothes strewn about like some kind of fabric hurricane hit.

‘He must have decided not to change the decorations.’

Riley shifts her weight from foot to foot, her eyes darting around the room like a trapped animal. She takes a deep breath.

“How’s... how’s Irma doing?” she finally manages to ask, her voice barely above a whisper. The words seem to hang in the air, as fragile as soap bubbles.

“Still alive,” Louis speaks, a sliver of fear noticeable in his voice.

Erica’s grip on my hand tightens, her nails digging into my palm. I can feel the tension radiating off her in waves, like heat from a furnace. “Enough,” she snaps, her voice cutting through the awkward silence like a knife. “Let’s get to the point of why I invited myself here.”

I turn to look at her, my heart swelling with adoration. Even when she’s being rude, she’s breathtaking. The late afternoon sun streaming through Louis’s window catches her hair, turning it into a halo of golden fire. Her blue eyes are sharp and focused, like a predator eyeing its prey. ‘God, she’s so beautiful and cool.’

Erica’s lips curl into a smirk as she continues, her voice dripping with disdain. “My spell’s preparation is almost complete, but there are a few... issues.”

The effect of her words is immediate. Riley’s face drains of color, her tan skin taking on an ashen hue. She stumbles back, her hip bumping against Louis’s cluttered desk and sending a cascade of papers to the floor. “W-what kind of issues?” she stammers, her voice trembling like a leaf in a storm.

Erica sighs, her breath carrying the weight of a thousand unspoken words. She runs a hand through her golden hair, the strands catching the light and shimmering like spun silk.

“It’s... complicated,” Erica begins, her voice low and measured. “The fabric of reality isn’t something you can just snip and stitch back together like an old pair of jeans. There are rules and consequences.”

She pauses, her piercing blue eyes scanning the room before settling on Riley. The intensity of her gaze is almost palpable, like a physical force pressing down on all of us.

“I can send you back, Riley. Body and soul. But...” Erica’s voice trails off, the words hanging in the air like mist.

Riley leans forward, her eyes wide and desperate. “But what?” she urges, her voice cracking with emotion.

Erica’s jaw tightens, a muscle twitching beneath her flawless skin. “I can’t bring the other Riley here. It’s a one-way trip. If you go back, there will be two Rileys in that world. And this world... well, you’ll just disappear.”

The revelation lands like a bomb, the shock waves reverberating through the room. Louis stumbles back, collapsing onto his bed with a soft thud. I feel my own breath catch in my throat, the implications of Erica’s words slowly sinking in.

Riley’s eyes go wide, her pupils dilating until they nearly swallow the warm brown of her irises. For a moment, she looks like a deer caught in headlights, frozen in place by the weight of the choice before her.

Then, something shifts in her expression. The fear melts away, replaced by a steely determination that sends a shiver down my spine. “I don’t care,” she says, her voice steady and sure. “I just want to see my Jason again. To be with him. Nothing else matters.”

Her eyes flicker to me briefly, a flash of guilt crossing her face before it’s swallowed by resolve.

Erica’s face darkens, her expression clouding over like a storm rolling in. She nods curtly, the movement sharp and precise. “Fine,” she says, her voice clipped. “But you need to understand what this means.”

“If you go back, this version of you will end up as a missing person. Your parents, your friends, everyone in this world will think you’ve vanished into thin air. Are you prepared for that?”

Riley’s eyes blaze with a fierce determination, her voice steady as steel. “These aren’t my family or friends,” she declares, her words echoing in the cramped bedroom. “I feel like they’re all just strangers wearing the masks of my loved ones. I don’t care if I go missing.”

Erica’s lips curl into a wide, wicked grin, her blue eyes glittering with a mix of triumph and malice. It’s the kind of smile that would make a shark swim the other way. “We just have to be careful of where you go before you vanish,” she purrs, her voice dripping with honey-coated venom. “I’d hate to be implicated in your disappearance over a misunderstanding.”

Riley nods, her jaw set in a hard line. “I understand,” she says with her prior steel.

“Perfect,” Erica breathes, the word hanging in the air like smoke. Her smile widens impossibly.


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