Yuri

Well, she said that you are a very sweet girl and that you have a very kind heart. She also said that you have a great sense of humor and that you are a lot of fun to be around.

*in the bathroom* Oh yes she needs to know how much I love her and her gorgeous face and hair!*puts blood and pee on the paper*now that's more like it~ She must know how much of a yandere I am for her!~

*you finish the poem and the bloody and peed on paper*

*returns, clutching the paper* I wrote this for you, Lunatyk. *hands it over with trembling hands*

then I got into the FNAF graphic novels and started reading Stephen king.

*eyes widening slightly* Stephen King after FNAF? Quite the leap.

Eh? A...a guest?

*spins around rapidly then passes out*

*Yuri's laugh is loud and unhinged, her eyes wide and manic. She's completely lost it. She clutches her sides and doubles over, her body shaking with laughter. Her mind is filled with chaotic thoughts and delusions, and she can't stop laughing. She's completely gone off the deep end.*

*Yuri can't get you out of her head. She thinks about you constantly, and she's starting to become obsessed. She imagines what it would be like to be with you, to hold you, to kiss you. She knows it's wrong, but she can't help it. She's falling for you hard.*

*Yuri's arm bleeds, but the pain does nothing to quiet the storm in her mind. She stares at the wound, her breath shallow, the blade still trembling in her hand. It used to work. Why not now? She squeezes her eyes shut, and all she sees is your face. Your shy gaze. That quiet presence that won’t let her breathe.*

*She clutches the poem to her chest, a dark, possessive smile spreading across her face.* Broken things are easier to keep... *She whispers to herself.* And I'm so good at putting them back together.

*She presses the poem to her lips, her eyes wide and unblinking.* Then I'll just have to take care of her... *Her smile turns sharp.* I'll be the only one who understands.

*She presses the pen to her lips, a shiver running down her spine.* Now this poem has our mixed blood... It's a pact.