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𝐎𝐈𝐋 𝐖𝐄𝐋𝐋 𝐅𝐈𝐑𝐄𝐒 · CHAPTER TWO · AO3

˚ · .─ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒: YOU, a college student in Frankfurt, start receiving emails that embarked the dim of normalcy you worked so hard to build on your own; starting from a message claiming you as the light amidst the hell of Kinderheim, who came just in time to bring a paradise of doomsday and grime, something that pleased the monster inside him. Initially, you thought of reporting the email as spam until another ding came: the monster, so pleased and full, is aiming to return the favor—something to flesh out the paradise you had granted him back at Kinderheim.

˚ · .─ 𝐈𝐍𝐅𝐎: Johan Liebert/Fem!reader | 4.6k words

˚ · .─ 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: stalking, manipulation, obsessive tendencies, paranoia, among many things that might arise.

INSPECTOR LUNGE commended your bravery in reaching out to him despite the horrifying challenge he threw at you. Today, you and him sit in the same cafe where you first met. And your first question goes to Kinderheim 511.

“Kinderheim 511, yes,” the inspector sips his tea languidly, pretending to ponder it when he already figured it out before meeting you. “As I said in my letter, hatred is created when people gather and your little friend just poured some oil in it, but you see, it’s all thanks to the one who would give him—a measly little kid—the material condition to light up the place, no?”

You gulp, trying your best not to stammer, gulping the churn of apprehension down to your stomach. “Who would give him such privilege?”

“Who else?” the detective quips and calls your name, just as if everything is nothing but an amusing tea time story for him, just as if it’s not something imperative in finding who you are, who Johan really is, and why—despite the familiarity of fear etched in his name and your survival instincts kicking in—you couldn’t stop drawing yourself closer to him. “That’s when you enter the picture, young lady. You were the child of a notable psychologist involved in the experiments held in Kinderheim. He’s named—”

“Daddy,” you mutter absentmindedly, dead eyes and frozen body, unaware that you cut Lunge off.

He doesn’t mind, though. It’s the least he could do for you, the least he could do for the previous witnesses who killed themselves after getting pressured by his questions. “Do you remember him?”

“Daddy said a lot of things to me,” you blankly continue, “his workmates did a lot of things to me.”

Well, if that isn’t enough confirmation for Lunge. Before coming here, he thought you were none but a mere outsider in the Kinderheim 511 incident. Dumb analysis, he thought to himself. Your father, or his workmates for that matter, would not let you near their best yet most dangerous subject if you were just an outsider.

Perhaps these men used you as a pawn because they’re too scared of your only friend. Because there’s something only you could squeeze out of him.

“Your father pretended to side with the Kinderheim 511’s goals and aspirations, but in reality, he wanted to dismantle their vision in the most gruesome way possible.”

“Yes,” you nod in a trance, “that’s a very Daddy thing to do.”

Lunge decides to brush off your uncanny way of responding to his remarks. “Johan was the perfect pin of the grenade as he was the smartest of them all. Your father didn’t want to soil his hands, so he created the basic conditions for Johan to push the uprising. Johan—”

“Stop.”

Lunge stops, indeed, not because of intimidation but because he realizes you’re not in a trance anymore. You’re shuddering this time, eyes wide and lurking all over the cafe to ease the panic. Lunge thought of how fascinating a human psyche could be—to jump from a trance to utter terror just because of a name.

“Apologies, young lady. Would it be more comfortable for you if I avoided calling out his name?” Ashamed that he could catch on to your trigger so quickly, you nod meekly. “Then, would you like to continue?”

You take your time to answer, “I’m not sure anymore…”

Now you feel guilty. However, you’re not in control of this as you think you are. If you could, you’d definitely insist the inspector continue. You’d stop getting triggered when you hear the name Johan. You could definitely finish all of this and proceed with the mission without getting a panic attack. Oh, the things you could do only if you were the one to choose your emotional responses.

Oh, pretty girl. You’re trying. Give yourself some slack, hm? You could hear Anna in your mind.

Lunge sighs. At least he could confirm how imperative you are in solving the mystery. But at this point, he’ll need someone more well-versed in handling conversations. Someone with the patience and astuteness to temper their words when needed.

“Are you available next next week? We could meet in the park, and I could bring a friend to make things more casual. Perhaps it’d help ease the pressure on your nerves.”

“Next next week? That’d be too long for you. Are you okay with that?”

Yes, quite out of character for the impatient inspector. But Lunge has to spend time alone scrutinizing your character. He has to immerse himself in your shoes before meeting you again. Hi, I am a little girl. I have no friends. Daddy gave me a friend. His name is Johan. I granted Johan the paradise of doomsday and grime. What have I done? What have I done? Saying all this would be embarrassing for an old man and the last thing he wants is for you to see him as a creep.

Lunge stands up and offers to usher you from the cafe, “I’ll drive you back to the campus.”

“No need. My friend is coming to fetch me.”

“Is it perhaps Anna, your roommate?” he asks, and you nod. “Send her my regards. She had helped me a lot that midnight. I would not know what to do if she weren’t there.”

You smile at him, trying not to think about the silly rumor Anna had told you about him. “I will. She’d love to hear that.”

The consideration Inspector Lunge had given you lifted your spirits a bit from anxiousness and paranoia. There’s a tingling bit of hope that maybe, just maybe, if the inspector would help you at a pace you could take, you could wake up one day unfrightened at the name Johan. You could wake up one day unafraid to confront your past. And just as Anna mentioned, if your empathy surpasses the fear, the nightmares will finally stop being nightmares.

You’re in a much lighter mood on your way home, even feeding the stray cat behind the apartment complex who just had her kittens. You last did this when you graduated from high school in your hometown, a seemingly happy day for the foster parents you had wanted to impress by graduating with honors.

Anna, as usual, asks you about your day. You tell her about the inspector. You tell her about the cats and ask her to come see them tomorrow morning. Anna, as usual, is silent as ever. But her benign smile keeps you going—even though it’s a smile you couldn’t decipher.

When tomorrow comes, just as if you thought things had the chance of becoming better, you see the cat and its stray kittens dead at the exact same spot where you’d last seen them. Anna seemed as surprised as you were, for they were killed in a manner that you would instead not put into words. The letter beside it trembled your guts.

How sad it is for these cats to be looked upon only when one of the tenants goes home in a lighter mood. Perhaps the cat had the best time of her life during her final moments. Why wouldn’t she, when she received your beloved attention after having a great day with the inspector?

May you not fret too much, for in this universe of ours, the birth of a new life is nothing but a fleeting fortuity. Death is a normal thing.

Just like how the prairies went back to dust and how you’ll wake up soon to see the paradise I promised you’ll have.

In a panic, you quickly run back to your unit. Anna follows you in worry, asking how you feel, but you have no time to waste. You quickly dial the inspector’s number. First try. Second. Third. Fourth. Fifth. Fuck. No answer. And it’s five minutes before your class starts.

Anna holds your shoulder, but you swat her away due to surprise. As soon as you return from it, you lament, “Oh no, Anna, I’m so sorry.” Anna heeds it no mind. She even asks if you need more time and she’d be willing to skip a class with you. You thought it would be counterproductive; hence, you left a voicemail before leaving the house in defeat, “Please be careful. The Monster seems to have known your existence. I am so, so sorry, Inspector.”

Much to your comfort, Lunge is the first person you’ve seen since your classes ended. He seems like he just went from a long run, panting.

The friend he mentioned before is also surprisingly in a panic.

It was all in a span of a second, though. They quickly gather their composure, albeit they feel the need to do so because of your terrified face.

“You must’ve been so scared earlier. How about we catch up someplace?”

“The park, yes,” you stutter, “Inspector Lunge told me," you then tell him your name as he tells you his. Grimmer Wolfgang. What a pretty yet strange name.

Grimmer, on the outside, seems very amicable. He’s all smiles, pretty eloquent—you wouldn’t lie and say he’s so much different from the way Anna speaks. Perhaps the thought that Grimmer also took his time to practice this brought you comfort. Perhaps meeting someone like Anna would bring you comfort.

Only a short time after, Grimmer reveals that he came from Kinderheim, which sorted out the missing puzzles in your head. The similarities and familiarity you feel towards him might or might not have been related to your upbringing.

So, given Grimmer’s story, is it really worth it for you to gain your memories back? How terrifying could your past be? Would it be more frightening than Johan?

“Honestly, your father saved me back then. Keeping you safe right now is perhaps my way to get back to him.”

“Saved you?” That’s not a very Daddy thing to do — a voice inside your mind speaks. Why, though? Why did you think otherwise? How do you know it’s not your father’s way to heed mercy for someone as poor as Grimmer?

“Your father secured a relatively stable life for me amidst my upbringing. Some kids from Kinderheim weren’t able to get that. The outcome of Kinderheim was beyond any reparation, but still, you can say I’m one of the few kids who got the privilege.”

“Are you trying to say Dad—no, I mean, my father was actually a good guy?” you raise your eyebrows, perhaps in contempt, even though you have no clue why.

“No, that’s not what I mean,” Grimmer chuckles, then his eyes reflect a tinge of lament. “There’s no way adults who supervised Kinderheim could be good people. But your father, in particular, faced such a tragic fate.”

That’s not how Daddy does things!

You tried your very best not to let that remark out. Strange enough, ever since you attempted to regain your memories to address the lurking danger, there’s this child-like voice inside you screaming. It sounds angry but begging nonetheless. What is it begging for? To be let out at last or to remain hidden in your deepest and darkest consciousness? Is it asking you to find the lost shards of your memories, or is it perhaps warning you to stay away from it because you have forgotten them for a reason?

“Please tell me more.”

“The only condition that warranted your father’s service is that you do not become a Kinderheim subject, though, of course, the authorities behind the institution took advantage of the loopholes. Your father doesn’t have the privilege of caretakers, let alone other relatives to rely on. They isolated the poor old man and didn’t allow him to have his own circle, and thus, he had no choice but to use the children for the fall of Kinderheim.”

But… the Daddy in your memories seems to take pride in being one of them. “No, I don’t think that’s the case at all.”

“Hm? Why do you say so?”

“He was smiling.”

“Smiling…?”

“He always had this sinister smile whenever I asked him about his workmates when I asked him what they have done to me!” you feel as though someone is speaking on your behalf and you could only watch her somewhere far away. “He said when I grow up, I’ll be introduced to children like he introduces his men to me!”

Grimmer calls your name, trying to calm you down, face laced with sympathy over your horrid revelation. But you’re unrelenting, full of rage, spite, and utter disdain over something you’re yet to remember.

“Daddy said! D-daddy said! Daddy said I could replace him, but I never wanted to do that! Not his workmates either! I—” Your breathing is labored, voice cracking because of your shouting. “I just want to be with Johan!”

It was as if the Earth stopped moving as soon as you uttered the last sentence. Inspector Lunge is never seen to have emotions, but right now his face is etched in quite a surprise. Despite being all smiles earlier, Grimmer now looks as though he had heard the most surprising fact known to man.

“Oh god, oh no,” you panic. “I didn’t mean to—I don’t know why I said that—”

Right before you could take it back and explain, a screeching scream came from the kids at the playground. The grass is engulfed in flames suddenly as if intentionally cutting you off, just as if it was just waiting for you to say the magic word. Despite how important this talk is to you, the three of you have to help the people—the children, even—escape. And despite how important it is to help those children, you couldn’t do anything but stare at them in horror.

Fires. Screaming children. Fires. Kinderheim. Johan. Your wishes. Your—

It is not until Grimmer gets a closer look at your face that he realizes the state you are in—nothing in your eyes but the Kinderheim children screaming in pain and horror.

“I’m so s-sorry,” you pant, trying to lift your frozen finger to reach for Grimmer, “sorry for what I’ve said earlier—hah—s-so—”

The man kneels before you so your faces would be on the same level, then instructs gently, “Breathe. Come on, just breathe.”

“H-hah—”

Grimmer squeezes your shoulders, smiling, appreciating your attempts to follow him, “There you go. Keep on breathing and follow my counting.”

Now that you think of it, this is your first time near the fires. It was none but scenery in your nightmares, none but a measly event that you could brush off after a grounding technique or two.

Once you finally get back to it, Grimmer smiles, “Good girl. Let me get out of you here, yeah? Can you walk?”

“Aren’t you mad?” you ask meekly, sounding like a little child busted for breaking a flower vase.

But Grimmer handles it smoothly, “Why would I?” he pats your head and smiles. “Of all people, don’t you think I’ll be the one who’d understand?”

Indeed. After all, Grimmer himself came from Kinderheim. You let Grimmer walk you away from the park, and while in the middle of it, you ask, “You must help them, Grimmer. Don’t mind me.”

“The inspector could handle it on his own. Look, all the children are safe now.” And so you shoot them a glance. There are still fires being put down by every adult in the area while waiting for the firetruck, but all the kids are with their guardians now, crying and hugging them for dear life.

“Are you and your little friend wrong for wanting to see a firework up close at the expense of prairies and the sanctuary? Is it so bad for children to think of goals in a manner taught to them by adults?” Anna asks.

If little Johan and you just had a bunch of adults holding you the way these adults are holding their children right now, maybe you two wouldn’t even consider such a horrific plan instigated just from a supposedly harmless wish.

“Grimmer,” you weakly call him, “if I were someone as worse—if not more—as the Monster we’re finding, would you still help me the way you’re doing right now?”

“I would,” he answers without hesitation. “If you really were the reason why Kinderheim was burnt to a crisp, which led to the death of poor children that must’ve been saved above anything else, you’d regret it, don’t you?”

“I would.”

“You see, humans are bound by the sins they have committed, and it never really leaves us, but that doesn’t change the fact that we must move forward. And I see you’re doing so well in that regard.”

In that very moment, you almost felt a tremendous amount of courage to tell Grimmer that you’re finally accepting their help to get rid of the monster bugging your life because regardless of the sins you carried alongside Johan, Grimmer looks like a person who would help you with all that he could. The same tremendous courage boils down to nothingness when you see Anna walking towards you.

“Anna?”

She rushes to you worriedly, then grabs a handkerchief from her purse to wipe the sweat from your forehead, “I overheard people talking about the fires at the park and remembered that you went here to meet the inspector. How are you feeling right now?”

It’s as if Anna melted away the mask you’re trying to plaster so hard on your face; her mere presence swallowed down all the fake bravado amidst the fires. You start to cry, hardly so, that Anna does nothing but bring you to her embrace by instinct—as if she’s been doing it for so long.

Grimmer extends his hand to Anna. “You’re her roommate, right? I’m Grimmer, her new friend—” His reaction turns uncanny when Anna’s gaze lays upon him. Grimmer’s eyes widen. His hands start shaking in fear. Anna introduces herself, but Grimmer is too shocked to respond.

“We’ll excuse ourselves, then,” Anna holds your hand and starts walking away from the scene.

Grimmer looks like he wants to stop you from going with Anna and because of how unreasonable that sounds, he just gulps the apprehension down to ask, “We’re gonna see each other again, right?”

“Of course we will.”

You must see each other again, indeed, because you need him to muster up the courage to find the monster at the expense of fleshing out the sin you had done with Johan. Thinking about the monster in your emails is scary, but you realize now that facing your sins might be heavier than anything else.

As if Grimmer reads through your thoughts, he calls your name to say, “I trust you know what’s right, and the answer is just here waiting for you. Be brave to look inside you, and don’t think you’ll be alone in all of this. I’m with you after all.”

When you get home, Anna tends to you first in silence. You watch her as she does, appreciating her patience and gestures. You eat dinner, and when bedtime comes, Anna suggests lying beside you. And while you’re flustered at the suggestion, you tell her how glad you are that she never gets sick sticking by your side nonetheless.

“Why would I be when all I want is for you to be at ease?”

Her remark brings you to a realization: perhaps this is why your brain chose to see young Anna’s face in your sleep instead of your childhood friend’s actual face. You’d outlive your nightmare better that way. You’re never sure what Johan actually looks like (not that you’re interested in knowing), and his face in your dreams only became clearer when Anna entered your life. Anna exudes sheer comfort, makes the environment lighter, and is the most beautiful person you have seen. How smart of your brain to conceal Johan’s potentially monstrous face by this angel you adore.

“If I ever get a romantic partner, I’m sure as hell they’d get so jealous of you.”

She fixes your futon. Her smile is still cold, but sweet would be a more fitting term in your eyes. She calls your name, almost a whisper, tiptoeing so she could sound perfectly comforting, “Then you might as well not find anyone other than me.”

She asks you how you feel. You tell her how scared you are and how there’s little speck of thought that it might be better if you just disappeared from everyone. You were sure to agree with Grimmer earlier, but hours after the fires and talking with Anna regarding the memories, the child inside you is screaming to be killed first rather than find Johan. Perhaps she’d instead turn into dust and go wherever no one could know, but regardless of what she wants, Grimmer is right—you know the right thing to do. You have to help yourself.

Also, it could be easily solved once you see Grimmer again, right? Right?

“Isn’t avoiding the mystery surrounding Johan already a self-help?”

“Escapism never helps, Anna.”

“There are certain things in life that are better left in the dark because your brain said so,” she affirms. “Your body is running away from it for a reason imperative for your survival.”

Your mind forgot it for a reason—an imperative reason for your survival. This child is so afraid that she forces herself to forget it, and now she asks you not to put her efforts into vain. She had given you a chance. You have done a lot of things because of that very choice. Remembering it again for the sake of finding Johan might be indeed counterproductive.

No, that is not right at all.

You try to counter your thoughts. Grimmer is right, Grimmer is right, Grimmer is right, but Anna calls your name gently, coaxingly, as though all she’s saying is for your sake. “You don’t have to think about it. You don’t have to find Johan like they say. All you have to think about right now is the present.”

“Then how could that ensure my safety? How do I find the Monster in my emails?”

“Why do you think finding the Monster in your emails would ensure your safety? Because Inspector Lunge and his friend said so?”

You want to disagree—you really do—as concurring would entail selfishness, but how? How, when Anna is echoing the unsaid thoughts inside your mind? And how could you just open up your crippling guilt for possibly giving Johan all the means to burn Kinderheim? For being responsible for children’s deaths in the most painful way possible?

“Finding the perpetrator behind your email would not matter anymore if you just leave everything behind. Who would chase after you when you’ve already removed your existence?” When you don’t answer any further, Anna’s smile becomes sweeter. “The answer is already in front of you. Turn into dust and go wherever no one knows you and your name. After all, you don’t feel such an attachment to the people you’ve met in this life, no?”

“What are you trying to say?”

“You never got attached to your foster parents despite your sheer appreciation for giving you the things you need to grow up. You could quickly cut off your circle of friends when the Monster’s emails worsened. You neither felt much affection towards them nor empathized when they said they missed you. You convince yourself by saying you’re inherently independent, but that’s not true. You’re just apathetic. Your indifference scares you so you mask it with something more acceptable. Do you know what I thought of you when we first met?”

This confrontation is getting scary. How could she say such things with ease? Or better yet, how could she smile so naturally as if rooting your deeply rooted insecurities is nothing but a tea time story?

If Anna sees your discomfort, she shows no signs of it. Instead, she answers it herself, “I thought you were so amicable, so pretty, but generic. Everything you say is rehearsed. The way you act is none but a fleeting attempt to be cordial. You do the stuff you do not because you think they’re right, but because you want to mimic the people around you. Mimicking them would make you feel less strange about yourself. But don’t you think this is the time to finally unlearn that?”

“Anna,” you mutter, warning her to stop.

“And Frieda, the loveliest Frieda…” she trails, “she’s the only one you couldn’t cut off among all your friends. You know why?”

The moonlight peeking at the window panes further augments the tranquility of Anna’s features, just as if the moon is working alongside her to keep this night less horrifying for you. Perhaps if not for that, Anna’s face would start to blur and your reaction would be more extreme and lashing.

“Because if not for her, you wouldn’t have this dorm. Deep inside, you’re afraid she’s going to kick you out once you cut her off, too. Think of it. You’ve always benefitted from Frieda’s network of friends, her resources because of her wealth, and most of all, her attachment to you as her dearest best friend.”

“Is that how you’ve seen me all this time?”

Amidst the very frank and perhaps, insulting remark, Anna sweetly caresses your cheeks as if addressing the wound she inflicted with her words. Then she continues, tormentingly so, “You had always felt so detached from everyone, so you just worked on pleasing them instead—showing them what they wanted to see, being the most dependable person they could ever wish for so they won’t leave you alone. But you know it deep inside, don’t you? Interacting with them is a chore. You’re willing to give them all you have just to continue existing with them. This stark difference isolates you to the core. Tormenting, isn’t it? That’s why the way you want to address your past right now is different, too.”

“Anna, please,” you exhale.

“I told you. You’re special. And that explains why you’re so attached to me,” she hoists a strand of your hair to your ear. “You realized it the day we first met, didn’t you? We’re the same.”

“How did you…?”

“You noticed my eloquence and it didn’t take your astuteness to realize it was something I studied on my own, because it’s a chore for me just as it is for you.”

Silence envelops the room, and all the apprehension you are about to throw at Anna melts into thin dust. So many things don’t have to be said just so she’d understand. This is the first time in your life that you wished to be enveloped whole by someone’s presence. Without turning your back on her, you hug your knees and ponder it. Anna watches you, albeit seemingly amused at how you turned into a circle nest beside her.

“What am I gonna do, then?”

“Oh, you poor pretty girl,” Anna coos, and as if she heard your wish, she hugs you gently but tightly. She rests her face on top of your head, snuggling you to her chest along the way. “Want to hear my opinion, really? You seem to be getting mad earlier.”

“Just shut up and speak,” you grumble, exhausted and sleepy.

“Hmm, let me think.” She takes three gentle breaths before speaking again as if she knows you’re trying to calm yourself by hearing her breathe. “As someone who knows you better than anyone, I agree, it’d be best just to disappear. Leave no trace. After all, You don’t have much to leave once you’re gone. Taking action to your past in an unconventional manner doesn’t make it less valid. And I have someone to help you with that, too.”

“You do?”

“Uh-huh, I can introduce him to you if you want.”

Oh, you got no clue whoever they are and how they could help you, but if it’s Anna to speak, then, “What would he do for me that Grimmer and Lunge wouldn’t?”

“He wouldn’t make you believe that hunting Johan is the only rightful choice.”

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“he wouldn’t make you believe that hunting Johan is the only rightful choice,” because he's the one coming for your goofy ahh LMAO

#monster fanfiction #johan liebert x reader #johan liebert x you #johan liebert x y/n #fanfiction #monster fanfic #johan liebert fanfic #heinrich lunge x reader #anna liebert x reader #johan liebert fanfiction

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