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angelofthenight · 1 year

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Closer To God Pt.1

(John Doe x Fem!Reader) Part 2

Warnings: Yandere, Innocent!Reader, Dark themes, Language (+ use of cvnt and c0ck), Religious themes/mentions, Sexual themes/context, Sexual sadism, Stalking, Jealousy/Possessiveness, Obsession, Murder/Torture, Ignoring your instincts, Violence/Blood/Gore, Unwanted/Non-Con touching, Kidnapping

Word Count: 5.6k

( A/N: I literally hate Kevin Spacey sm but I love John Doe as a character and thought he would be a terrifying yet interesting yandere )

“You eating lunch today, John?”

John Doe looked up from his paperwork to see your head peeking over the cubicle with a soft smile planted on your delicate lips.

“I’m not sure yet.” He answered simply.

You jabbed a thumb over your shoulder. “I’m going to pick up some pierogies from that new diner down the road. Want me to bring you anything?” You asked kindly, the gentle light in your eyes making his steady heart rate skip multiple beats.

You always had that effect on him, from waking him up on his most tired days to warming his desolated chest like a burst of fire in a freezing cabin stuck in the middle of a harsh winter. It still was so strange to him.

From the first moment he laid eyes on you on the subway train, something changed in him. There was just something about you. And he had no idea what. At first, he thought the reason why you stood out to him so much was perhaps because you were something that needed to be disposed of, that God was signaling that you were the most sinful of all.

So he began to stalk you, to follow you through every street and into every building, to peek through any crack into your home. He tried to pinpoint your sins. But he couldn’t find any.

You were too humble and shy to be prideful. You were too generous to be greedy. You had too much abstinence to be gluttonous, too much perseverance to be a sloth. You were too content and grateful and happy with your life for envy. You were a naturally joyful person, rarely ever getting wrathful and having lots of self control. And as far as John could see, you never seeked out sex. Instead, you kept your lust to yourself and your own hand. Those were the nights John felt the need to stay and watch you a little longer.

He almost didn’t believe it. In this shitty, soul-draining city how could someone like you live so wholesomely. John was a natural pessimist, he almost didn’t accept that you were actually a genuinely good person and that behind closed doors you never revealed any vile part of yourself. If he judged you on your worst day it would probably just be you honking at someone in traffic or not thanking your coffee barista on a bad morning. Your actions in life could be mistaken as truly biblical.

It was as if you were the embodiment of the seven heavenly virtues, the opposite of the seven deadly sins. You weren’t human, you couldn’t have been. There was a sinner in everyone. But not you.

You were an angel. Divinity personified, goodness materialized, the incarnation of sanctity, the epitome of grace, a model of holiness, the essence of purity; a blessed being. An earthbound seraph trapped within the confinement of a human body. A very, very lovely body.

That was the reason why you had caught his eye so easily on that subway train that one gloomy, rainy morning. It was as if you were radiating a golden light off of you, rays of your ethereal aura shooting through his barren chest making him… feel things. Things that were foreign to him. Things that seemed to act up most when you were around, or when you simply just visited his mind.

This was a dangerous and unforgivably cruel world that you lived in, he had to protect you. He had to. No one else could ever comprehend how rare you were, how fragile you were, how easy it would be to grab your dainty little wrist and snap it like a twig.

God had sent you to him for a reason. You needed him. But far, far tucked beneath his delusions and obsessions, he just wanted you. All of you, everything you had to offer or didn’t realize you even had. He had to have you. No matter the cost, no matter the sacrifice. He had to have you, all for himself.

So he had taken the unneeded job at your place of work. It was a pathetic little office desk job but you seemed to be positively at peace with it. To most, it may seem like it was by pure chance that you two were desk neighbors but to John it was fate. Fate crafted by the hands of the Father himself.

He got to see you, up close, every single day. And sooner than later, due to your lighthearted sociable nature, he got to talk with you every single day. Even though he always responded very dryly with uninteresting answers, he took in every little thing you would say to him. Inhaling it and mentally digesting it, later writing it all down as if he was trying to write your biography.

Unbeknownst to him, you never paid him much mind. He was just your desk neighbor, the man on the other side of the cubicle. You hadn’t even noticed his daily gloves or bandaged fingers. But you still liked your office neighbor. For so long that chair was empty which left you feeling more isolated and your days started to blend together. But now you had someone to briefly converse with to pass the time, and if you started to get tired or lonely all you had to do was peek over the divider for some company.

You had no idea you brought out the worst sins in him.

He was greedy with you, wanting you all to himself with no else being allowed to interact, look, touch, or even think about you. He was envious of the men you clearly liked socializing with and who made you laugh, knowing he could never be like them so casually. He was wrathful when anybody had the disgusting audacity to talk to you in such a discourteous or graceless manner, especially the regional manager’s insolence with you.

And he was filled with lust more times than he’d like to admit, essentially after every encounter. He just couldn’t fight it. Not with the way your intoxicating eyes would look down at him when you would stand to peer over the cubicle. Your diaphanous lips spreading into a smile meant for his eyes only. Your voice like warm honey oozing down into his ears causing tingles to erupt beneath his skin. The skin exposed on your body appearing so soft he was close to reaching out to caress it occasionally. Your legs, your thighs, your hips, your waist, your breasts, your neck, your hair, your hands, it all drove him wild. Even the scent of you straight waves of heat down to his pelvis.

And his sinful lust was at its most carnivorous when he would hide in your walls and watch through the holes he secretly made as you laid in your bed, your head thrown back with one hand gripping the sheets and one hand buried past your clit.

And as John intently watched you pleasure yourself without your awareness, it was times like these when John would wonder what you would look like underneath him, chest to chest and mouth to mouth and genital to genital.

He would wonder what those lustrous eyes of yours would look like filling up with thick tears. How those elegant lips would look trembling or even being widened as he would shove his tongue down your throat. How your voice would sound as a sloppy mess of dirty moans and screams of pain. How your naked skin would feel against his own and how your skin would feel if he gripped onto it hard; how fast your skin would bruise.

How your legs would feel wrapped around him or even trying to fight him off. How your bare breasts would feel squished against his hairy chest or trapped in his groping hands. How your neck would feel tightly within his hand as he squeezed, or being bitten by his fake teeth. Your hair tangled in his printless fingers, tugging on the locks. Your hands tied together above your head with red silk, unable to wiggle out of them. How your juicy thighs would feel in his kneading hands or pressing into the sides of his face as he devoured you.

And how your cunt would feel in his fingers, on his tongue, and around his cock. And how it would react to everything he wanted to do to it. And he couldn’t help but wonder what scents he would discover out of all this, especially what your climax would smell like, and your tears… and maybe your blood.

“That’s alright. Don’t worry ‘bout me.” John responded easily to your offer, a ghost of a smile pricking upon his lips.

You nodded in a polite way, a caring expression engraved in your features, before stepping out of your area and walking down the hall in pursuit of the elevator. His eyes followed your form as if gravity wouldn’t allow his pupils to stray from you. Now everyday most days he would follow you to wherever you’d go for lunch or your break or an errand, but today he was feeling trustful of you and your abilities to make it back to him safely. Just as you would under his secret supervision.

It was over two hours, a little longer than your typical lunch runs, when you had finally returned to the office and took a seat at your desk. He noted your mood was more upbeat than before you left. You weren’t very far into your meal before your desk phone rang, you picking it up as soon as you could. “Hello, (Y/n) (L/n) speaking. How can I help you?” You asked with a merry warmness to your naturally cordial voice. Quite literally heaven teasing his ears every time John got to hear you.

However, his eavesdropping created a dark atmosphere around him as he heard you giddily giggle from the other side of the cubicle, hearing you say something among the lines of “I gave you this number for emergencies only”. He could hear your bright smile.

You whispered a string of ‘bye’s in a joyful, flustered manner before placing the phone back down. John waited a few beats before speaking up to you. “Is that clingy customer bothering you again?” He asked with a soft monotone, already knowing the answer.

John knew you were absentmindedly shaking your head despite the wall concealing your reaction. “Oh, no. That guy doesn’t call me anymore.” You replied back. Perhaps because the customer who repeatedly called you with unpalatable flirtatious advances, despite your repetitive polite declining and lack of interest, was now rotting away inside a sewn up mattress; his own severed penis shoved down his own throat.

“I just ran into an old friend at the diner. We’re gonna start catching up.” You said with a twinge of gleefulness in your undertone. He could still hear your smile. He hadn’t noticed the pen snapping within his hand until he felt the ink drip down his palm.

Of course the one time he didn’t look after you, someone had stolen your mind and infected it. He was running out of time, out of time to make you his. The corrupt world was slowly closing in on you and you hadn’t a clue. The devilish sinners that so casually walked the streets were going to taint you, destroy you and your saintly innocence if he didn’t do something.

You were the bright and shining sun, the light in the distance of John’s darkness. And just like anybody would do, he knew he had to get to that light before it potentially went out.

But he needed to be patient. Perhaps you wouldn’t be so oblivious and naive this time and you’d see yourself how much of a scumbag that old friend truly was. The next day at work everything was seemingly normal, and the day after was the same as well. John felt his deranged worries minimize. That was until the very next day.

“Hey, John?” You meekly said as your head popped up over the edge of the cubicle. John had turned to you to face your kindly apologetic expression. “Sorry to bother you but do you happen to know if Ivy's Table is a fancy restaurant or a casual one?” You asked with a cutely confused tone of voice. Well, John would have fonded over your cute tone if your question hadn’t made his pulse twitch.

“What do you mean?” He asked in that gentle stoic tone of his own voice. A tone that to you was just soft and gently relaxed, but to others it was creepily emotionless. But that was just how you saw him through your unintentional rose colored glasses, that he was just a zen man with soft facial expressions. If only your poor soul knew…

A smile you tried to fight stretched across your face in excitement. “I have a date tonight,” you bit your lip in nervousness, “but I’m not sure if the restaurant we’re going to is fancy or not. I don’t know how nice I should dress.”

A date? A fucking date?

How could you let yourself be manipulated and brainwashed into such a custom with a nugatory sleazebag. No, it wasn’t your fault. It was never your fault, John could never bring himself to blame you for your innocent righteousness and guilelessness. You couldn’t help your own gullibleness and how easily you trusted the deceiving barbarians around you. That was why he had devoted himself to protecting you from this vile society in the first place.

But he had failed to preserve you, you proving to not be able to fend for yourself and falling for the very first trap aimed at you the single day he had not been there for you. He had to correct his mistake. He couldn’t let whatever savage you considered an old friend and now potential suitor get their filthy hands on you. He wanted to slam his forehead down onto a hammer when the mere thought of you within the grasp of anyone other than himself cursed his mind.

He was not going to allow that. He would rather burn his beloved bible with a flamethrower than see that happen; he would rather explode the world around him than see that happen.

But he gave you a truthful answer. “I think it’s more on the formal side.” Your eyes lit up, softly shaking your head as confirmation. “Ok, thank you!” Then you dipped back behind the wall, leaving John as his body temperature raised and an unsteady, inconsistent breathing pattern huffed through his nose. His fists tightened on his desk, knuckles turning white and blue veins bulging beneath his pale skin.

The very next day you had showed up to work with an obvious shifted and drained mood. A solemn frown took the place of your ebullient grin. A gloomy silence in your throat rather than the bubbly morning greetings to your coworkers. Your lively, upbeat eyes were replaced with a tired gaze, pink puffiness circling them. You were so downcasted and crestfallen, you didn’t even greet John with your daily “good morning”.

Part of him was bitter over your reaction, not knowing how you could care so much about some wicked waste of a human. But a stronger part of him had spread a smug smile across his face over the sound of your light sniffles. A very smug one.

John smoothly rolled his chair around the cubicle to enter your space, for the first time ever. You were hunched over your desk with one hand rubbing over both your eyes. “Is everything alright?” John’s voice softly reached your ears, making you turn to see him. “Yeah, yeah.” You instinctively answered. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

“I figure the date didn’t go well?” He asked.

Your rare frown deepened as your eyes casted down to the carpeted floor. “No. The date didn’t even happen. He never showed and left me waiting there for hours. I’ve called him seventeen times and he never answers.” You pursed your lips that threatened to quiver together, slightly shaking your head. “But this is just… so unlike him. He’s not that kind of person at all. We were really close all four years of highschool since we had the same friend group. And he was a very anxious guy so he was always earlier than on time with anything he did, especially dates.” You finally looked up towards John, revealing the gloss in your eyes. “Has he really changed that much over the years and only asked me on a date for some narcissistic joke?”

Those eyes. Those eyes of yours were still caged within the barbed wire of his desire, his unwavering and unhealthy desire. And he knew he would set fire to the world around him just to have you. “He probably recognized the gap between your status’ as humans and knew his place.” John spoke with a masked consoling tone.

Your heavy frown relaxed and softened, not from comfort though. Quite the opposite. Sudden unsettlement weighed over you from how he said those words. You had nothing but good things to say about your desk neighbor John and you never once felt uncomfortable around the man or felt unsafe in his presence. But just now, for the first time ever, you felt something pinch in you. And it wasn’t a good feeling.

It felt like the quietest little siren blaring off in your head, flashing red. You felt as if someone had opened a window and a cold breeze just blew onto your back and neck, hollow chills skidding down your spine and your shoulders feeling colder.

The worst mistake you ever made was brushing off that feeling.

The end of the day had come to end the shifts of everyone who left in the office, dusk about to creep up to fade through the sky as the sun was setting. No matter how much of a headstart you got, you always ended up being the last one to pack up all your materials and leave. Your coworkers around you began leaving one by one, bidding you amicable goodbye’s and goodnight’s and an occasional “see you tomorrow”. If only they knew they wouldn’t see you tomorrow.

You shoved the last of your stuff you needed at home into your bag before rising to your tired feet, your droopy eyes glancing out the big window in the office to see dusk fading into the sky to create beautiful hues. It was a beautiful site, especially from the view of your office on one of the higher levels of the building. And after every shift you would admire the twilight landscape with a pleasant sense of cherishing the simple beautiful things in life. But tonight was different. And you didn’t know what it was, but something didn’t feel right.

The dark sky only gave you a sinking and haunting feeling, an intuition tempting you to not leave the building on this dark night. But you made another stupid decision and told yourself your mood was only disquiet because of your failed date yesterday. So you continued your end-of-shift routine and moved yourself in pursuit of punching your little card to clock out. You rounded the corner only to jump at the sight of John just finishing clocking out.

You forced a neighborly, benign chuckle past your uneasiness. “Oh, John, you scared me. I thought you went home already.” You said, trying to steady your frail voice. John slowly looked over to you and shrugged, motioning towards the briefcase in his hand. “I had a few documents I needed to print out.”

You slightly nodded and once he moved out of the way you shoved your card into the small machine to stamp the time and date on your card. You focused on restraining the shake in your hands as you felt John’s eyes still on you.

“Your friend.” John spoke up from beside you. “His name wouldn’t happen to be Doug Hopper, would it?” Your eyes widened and you snapped your head to him. “It… is, actually. You know him?” John faintly nodded. “He’s my neighbor. You could come by quickly to see him.”

That siren went off in your head again, the red flashes practically blinding your vision.

But your eagerness to see Doug was too strong, and that was how you found yourself now following John down the hall of a dark and coarse apartment building. Your nerves had amplified a disturbing amount since you were in the office building and that was when you had begun to heavily regret coming here, feeling as if you had no escape. You didn’t walk too far behind John but you also didn’t get too close to him. He finally led you to a door, stopping in front of it and briefly turning to you.

You wanted to leave, you wanted to turn around and run as fast as you could. Your heart was pumping so fast you feared it may burst apart. And the fact was you were so absorbed in your own anxious apprehension that you didn’t even think about what you would say to Doug. Because that became the least of your worries.

You watched as John pulled out a key from his back pocket and plugged it into the doorknob, now all the alarms in your body and conscience were going off like you were stuck in a room with multiple alarm clocks intensely going off. And this time you didn’t have the strength to ignore them. “John. I…” You wrapped your arms around yourself tightly, a sick nausea sinking into your stomach. “I don’t know about this. I think I’m just gonna go home. It’s late anyway.” You spoke in a meek, fearful voice as your eyes casted down.

Your pupils looked up to get John’s response. He only smugly smiled as he unlocked the door, turning the knob all the slightest. “Don’t you trust me?” He asked with a complacent tone lacing through his dry voice that used to comfort you but now only brought disquietude. He, without receiving your answer or confirmation, pushed the door the rest of the way open.

You had so many questions that desperately needed to be answered, like why he had a key and why he was just going to waltz in unannounced. But it was as if your fear had rendered you mute, stealing all words from your throat and leaving behind a thick lump you just couldn’t swallow away.

He stood at the door frame, waiting for you to go in first. Which you hesitantly and foolishly did. You slowly walked into the apartment, it would’ve been pitch black dark if it wasn’t for the open door at the end of the hall that allowed the light from its room to emit a glow. You carefully moved down the hall, your heart pounding and your head beginning to feel dazed, your eyes locked on that open room.

When you reached the doorway of the lit up bathroom, your shaking small-pupiled eyes caved in on the bathtub on the other side of the room. Red reflected around the rim of it but you were too far away to see what was inside. Your suspense and naive curiosity overpowered your intellect as you took slow, steady steps toward the tub.

Once you reached it and looked down into the tub, your heart pulsated and was eaten by a palpitation; a beating that rang in your ears almost deafeningly. The realization of the reality of the horrific sight you were seeing hit you way too slowly, your reaction painfully being stretched out as your breath finally hitched from how terror gripped around you like King Kong’s fist.

The tub was filled with crimson blood as Doug’s body laid in it, his upper body widely torn open from his Adam's apple to his pelvis. His insides were on complete display but all his organs had been removed, only his ribs and spine remaining. His head was laid back over the edge, his skin a ghostly pale and his eyes wide open along with his blue lips parted. He was just an empty carcass bathing in his own blood.

Heavy tears sat in the corners of your eyes painfully, like if they fell then you would share the same fate as the one in front of you. Your watering eyes shook terribly as you couldn’t separate them from the sickening, gorey site. Your mouth was hung open and one sharp inhale triggered an agonized sob to escape from your burning throat. Hot tears finally cascaded down your face as your features trembled terribly. You never felt such raw horror before in your once optimistic life. You were direfully shell-shocked.

You physically tensed up once you felt a hand touch your upper back, John stepping up to stand beside you as he looked down at the body as well. “Don’t cry over this scum, he doesn’t deserve your tears.” He spoke in a soft, calm voice as he looked at the gruesome corpse with little to no emotion. He pointed down to the mutilated chest. “See? He doesn’t even have a heart.”

Your lips quivered uncontrollably like you were freezing cold. “...Why? Why would you do this?” Your voice was hoarse and quiet; weak. John tilted his head, still looking down. He thought for a bit. “I’m doing this out of love, I suppose.”

Your brows furrowed together with a slight curve upwards, slightly shaking your head as your wide lachrymose eyes were still glued down to the tub. “This is not love.” John sighed, “I don’t expect you to understand. At least not yet.”

You choked on another sob, finally tearing your leaking eyes off the corpse to look over to John whose composure was eerily way too calm. You were visibly shaking. “You’re insane.” Even your voice was shaking. You were just utterly terrified beyond what you could handle.

John finally looked up at you, removing his hand from your back as his once blank expression shifted to one of irked offense. “Insane? I’m insane?!” His voice grew louder, making you flinch from every raised pitch. “Do you know what’s truly insane? This world that insists on keeping you away from me! It’s insane that you let humanoid monsters like this sinner attempt to corrupt you! Attempt to touch you in any way! It’s insane that they think they even have the right to do that!”

You instinctively took a step back from him, but it was like he had read your mind as he instantly took a step towards you. “I would rather kill you myself than see you with anyone else! No matter what happens, I will never let anyone have you.” His blazing anger finally pitched down but you still took another step back, prompting him to take another step forward.

“Without you… I'm… nothing. I feel nothing without you.” He spoke with sick, feverish admiration laced within his features and eyes. You had taken another step away but your back had hit the wall. You were caged and cornered like an animal intended to be prey. Your limbs were shivering and tears still spilled out of your wide eyes.

John looked your fear-stricken form up and down before a small smile spread his lips. He said with a smug tone, “I hope you realize the more scared you are, the more excited I get.”

You looked his skinny figure up and down as well, weighing your options in your head. You could take him. And thus, thinking impulsively from the pressure of your own terror, you lunged your fist across his face and roughly shoved at his chest before making a run for it.

You couldn’t tell if you were too slow or your punch was too weak, but John had tackled you against the wall just before you got a close enough chance to escape the bathroom. You tried to throw hits at him but he shoved his body against yours so that you were painfully squished against the wall and him; caged. He shoved his leg in between yours and his hands pinned your arms against the wall with his nails digging into your forearms, earning hissing winces of pain from you.

“What a wicked way to treat me, the person who loves you, like this.” He said in between your ear and neck as you struggled and squirmed against him. “I just want to protect you. Nothing wrong with that, is there?”

You wanted to respond with something hateful but you froze in your position from the sound and vague feeling of his nose slightly caressing the crook of your neck while inhaling deeply through his nose. “Wh-what are you d-doing?” Your voice said in between breathy sobs, your legs and arms still trembling.

“I’ve just realized,” John began, “I’ve never got to feel you before.” The hands that squeezed your forearms slowly began to massage your skin, the bandages on his fingertips feeling like sickening velvet. Wiggling his leg lightly between your inner thighs, pressing his chest closer to yours as his warm breath dusted onto your neck. You squeezed your tear filled eyes shut in wild discomfort. “This is the closest we’ve ever physically been.” He breathed out.

A meter was the minimum of space that had ever been between you, and now he was pressed up against you, not even a millimeter of air left between you. It sent blood to his already flushed cheeks and straight down to where his khaki pants began to strain; an erotic euphoria bubbling within his gut as he unintentionally released a stuttered, breathless moan. His palms nuzzled against the plush skin he held onto. He could feel you so distinctly.

When you felt his nose inhale in your hair that’s when you began to struggle against him again. “Get OFF me!” You finally snapped out at him, trying to use your body weight to shove him off of you. His grip slightly loosened which gave you the opening to thrash your forearms out of his hold and begin punching at his chest.

John’s hand snatched your throat in a haste and shoved you back against the wall, compressing harshly. You choked on a gasp as your hands flung to his in a desperate attempt to claw his fingers off. “You have no idea how nice I’m choosing to be. You should be grateful that I didn’t make you watch me gut that man like the pig he is; grateful that I’m doing this all the easy way.” He said through gritted teeth close to your face.

Your quivering lips clenched before you jerked your knee up to jab him in his groin. He wheezed and released your throat, severe gasps for air populating your mouth as you touched your stinging throat. John took an unintentional step back from you which left you the opportunity to attempt your running escape. You bolted out the bathroom and down the pitch black hall, John had closed the front door when you first walked in so the only source of light was from the bathroom you were running from. You knew you just needed to keep running straight.

You barely got to register the loud cracking noise because you had collapsed to the ground, falling roughly onto your side from the sudden sharp, roaring pain in the back of your calf. You repeatedly hissed in pain when you tried to move, heavy breathing pumping through your lungs. You reached down to your calf to feel a wet substance, a nasty mixture of horror and panic suffocating you.

It wasn’t long before John approached you with a flashlight. The bright light shifted your eyes to the illuminated floor, realizing the layer of clear rubber fabric all over the floor. “Did you really think you could escape me? Don’t you know we’re meant to be together? You’re destined to return to me.” His words fell upon your deaf ears, too caught up in shock.

“You… fucking shot me.” You croaked, your petrified eyes staring at your own wet blood on your fingers. You didn’t want to look further down to the real wound. “I suspected you’d try to run away, so I took the expected precautions.” John spoke plainly as he stepped closer to you, tucking his gun back away as his flashlight was still aimed on your fallen form. “It’s alright, I forgive you. But next time I won’t be as forgiving.”

Your breathing came out uneven and shaky as your incredibly glossy eyes remained on the fresh blood on your fingertips from your leg. John stepped over you so that you were in between his legs before he lunged down onto you, straddling your back as he forced a cloth coated in a chemical onto your mouth and nose.

Your red puffy eyes still drowned in their own terrified tears. “No! Please!” Your dolorous begs became muffled, your squirming actions slowly deflating in energy. Your vision was blurring and darkening, the wall blending with the floor as it warped into unrecognizable shapes. Your head swayed and your mind grew hazy. And before you knew what was happening, you sank into unconsciousness.

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