The last people to occupy the house had been some of his best work yet. Katsuki spent months slowly driving her insane, making her question reality. He mimicked her husband’s voice in the shell of her ear when the man wasn’t home. He shifted her reflection in the mirror, making her skin melt from her bones or turning her into someone else. Her fear became so intense it made Katsuki shiver with power. When Katsuki got strong enough, he manifested himself in her periphery, always disappearing right before she turned to look at him head on.
It didn’t take much effort to place the idea in her head, considering how far gone she already was. She just needed a little push. All he had to do after that was sit back and watch the fruits of his labor unfold.
She poured her husband a drink on a dark, calm evening. It was the last drink the poor bastard would ever have. He fell to the floor, still conscious but unmoving as his wife slowly stepped over his body and exited the room. When she returned she was wearing a black floor-length butcher’s apron, carrying a black case. Mechanically, unblinking, she retrieved a syringe from the case and crouched over her husband’s body. She shoved her fingers into her husband’s mouth and pulled out his tongue, took no time in inserting the needle into the pink, fleshy mass. The only movement the husband was able to manage was a pitiful wiggle of his foot before his body went completely limp. His eyes were wide though, like they might’ve popped right out of his skull.
She spent the next four hours dismembering the man while he was still awake. By the time it was all done and the man had finally expired, the wife, err, widow, was drenched in blood. She scooped some off the front of the apron and smeared it across her face, closed her eyes and stood there amidst the carnage-covered room. Katsuki swooped down next to her ear and gently suggested her next move. Her eyes shot open and she calmly walked to retrieve the bloodied butcher’s knife she used to murder her husband and held it to her throat. With a quick slice her body fell to the floor, warm blood mingling with the cold, coagulated blood of her husband.
Katsuki was going to miss her. She put on quite the show for him. Solid 8/10 for imagination. But the couple was no longer welcome in his house the second the wife decided to paint the living room periwinkle. Katsuki still wrinkled his nose at the thought. As he floated about the living room surveying the carnage and the two fresh corpses on the ground, he nodded in approval. Yup, the living room definitely looked better red.
He enjoyed the solitude that came with waiting for the bodies to be discovered, the weeks of investigation that saw his house roped off with crime scene tape. It ended all too soon on the day a crew of men in white coveralls came in to repaint all the rooms house-for-sale white. Katsuki spent a month or so after that scaring off potential buyers with lame parlor trick scares: flickering lights, moving objects, whispering voices. Unfortunately, it was the most Katsuki could manage with total strangers.
It worked pretty well until a particular man showed up. He was crass with the realtor, kicked at the floorboards with heavy boots, tested the water pressure in the upstairs bathroom. Asshole acted like he’d already moved into Katsuki’s house. The worst part being that he wasn’t reacting to any of Katsuki’s scare-tactics. He’s not sure if the man was too stupid to notice or just pointedly ignoring the signs. Either way it pissed Katsuki off. He was gonna have fun killing this guy.
“I’ll take it,” the man grunted and shook the realtor’s hand roughly.
“A-are you sure?” the realtor said, shuffling through papers, “I haven’t even gotten to the spiel I’m legally required to tell you.”
The man shuffled over to one of the windows to check the lock, clearly only half listening. “Hm? And what’s that?”
The realtor settled their papers and started reading a police report, “State law requires that I disclose to you that, uh, t-this house has been the scene of several gruesome m-murders over the years…”
Yeah asshole, and you’re next if you don’t know what’s good for you, Katsuki thought with a smirk.
The man looked away from the window and raised his eyebrows at the realtor, “Is that right?”
“W-we can certainly look at other options—”
“Won’t be necessary,” the man said, waving one of his large hands dismissively, “We don’t have time to be looking around. This’ll do.”
“We?” the realtor asked.
The man looked as if he’d suddenly remembered something, stomped his heavy boots over to the front door, and swung it wide, “Boy, get in here!”
There’s some quiet shuffling outside before a young green-haired boy with freckles stepped across the threshold. The man tugged the boy impatiently into the house and the boy stumbled against the man’s side.
Shit. Katsuki’s job just got a little more difficult with this freckle-faced little twerp added into the picture. He had a firm policy against killing kids. It just didn’t do it for him. He’d have to play this the PG way and just scare them out of the house. Where the fuck was the fun in that?
“Boy’s gonna start school soon. Wanna get settled down in a place before he starts, ya know?”
The realtor nodded quickly, “Right! I’ll uh, I’ll just start the p-paperwork then.”
This guy definitely had something to hide and Katsuki was gonna figure out what it was. And who knows, maybe Katsuki’d fuck around and kill the bastard afterall. Sure, the kid might end up traumatized because of it but it’s better than killing the little twerp, right?
Speaking of the kid, his room was even more bare than the man’s. He had a bed. That’s it. No clothes, no school supplies, no toys. Even weirder was that once the kid’s bed was situated, he just sat down on the edge of it and didn’t move. For the entire day. The kid just stared at the wall or at the floor, shuffled his feet every now and then.
Katsuki was completely thrown for a loop with these two. He didn’t know what to make of them and their weird habits and bare necessities. What was the dynamic, even? Were they father and son, uncle and nephew, nondescript distant relatives, or no relation at all? Did it even matter?
Over the first few weeks, Katsuki began to notice several strange things. First of which being that as far as Katsuki was able to tell, the man did not sleep. At least, not while he was in the house. He left the house from sun up to sun down, presumably at a job. But once the man came home, he sat at the kitchen table with the small TV buzzing quietly in the living room, and drank until his head lolled from side-to-side. Then he stumbled upstairs and stood in front of the boy’s closed bedroom door for awhile before stumbling back downstairs to finally sit in front of the TV to stare at it until the sun came up. It was easily the most bizarre routine any of the house’s inhabitants had ever kept.
The boy was not much better. When the man was home, the boy did not leave his room. He stayed perched on the edge of his bed, or kneeling in front of the window staring out at the dark night sky. Occasionally, he would pull out a notebook he kept tucked between his bed and the wall and wrote things down, his little freckled face buried in the pages. Katsuki had peered over the kid’s shoulder once and frowned when he saw that the little weirdo was keeping a tally of all the floorboards he’d counted in the room. What a weird fucking pastime.
There was something very intriguing about this boy, though. It took Katsuki a couple days to actually recognize it for what it was. The boy had entered the house already reeking of fear. Before the two had even finished moving in, Katsuki could smell it on the boy, potent and mouthwatering. Now, several weeks in, that healthy foundation of fear had ramped up a bit. He spent most of his time sitting in the kid’s room, watching his shaky little fingers struggle to keep the quiver out of his handwriting as he hunched over his notebook. Katsuki probably wouldn’t have to wait much longer to get this party started if this kid kept feeding him so well.