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7/22/2025, 4:48:34 AM
>>149495009
Yandere protective nellie
>Anon was driving back from a work trip.
>GPS said these backroads would shave off an hour
>He tried cutting through the Appalachian Mountains in his beat-up SUV.
>He barely made it halfway up the winding dirt trail before the engine started wheezing like an old dog with asthma.
>Then the mush, the tires spun, and he found himself axle-deep in mountain mud.
>Anon got out to push.
>The-
>Anon groaned awake, head pounding, the scent of wood smoke and earthy ferment.
>He blinked. Roughhewn planks above. Patchwork quilts under him.
>And sitting at the foot of the bed, motionless, was... a kid?
>A small girl with a tangle of reddish hair covering half her face.
>Her big green eyes peeked through like two glow worms in a thicket.
>She was cradling a rusty axe across her lap like it was her favorite toy.
>“Uh… hey?” Anon croaked.
>She didn’t move. “You was talkin’ in yer sleep. Like a spooked possum dreamin’ of taxes.”
>“Where am I?”
>“You’s at our homestead. You done drove into the holler swamp, and yer car sank faster’n Pa’s dignity at the bank”
>From outside
>“HE DEAD' YET!?”
>“Naw, Billie! He’s breathin’ like a city rat!”
>Anon sat up, groaning. “Why are you holding an axe?”
>She tilted her head. “Ain’t fer hurtin’. S’fer watchin’. Pa said I gotta keep you from runnin’ off or fallin’ down the well.”
>Anon stared at her.
>She gave a small smile. “Yer real... pretty.”
>“...Thanks?”
>She leaned in, eyes wide. “Yer skin’s all smooth and soft... like a boiled yam. Not like Pa’s. He’s crunchy.”
>“I... don’t work outside much.”
>“I knew it!” she beamed. “Y’all smell like... dryer sheets an’ fancy mayonnaise. Real soft smellin’. Like if a biscuit went to college.”
>He blinked.
>“I think I like lookin’ at you,” she added singsongly, then whispered: “You'r real peaceful when you sleep. Like a hog what gave up... in a nice way.”
Yandere protective nellie
>Anon was driving back from a work trip.
>GPS said these backroads would shave off an hour
>He tried cutting through the Appalachian Mountains in his beat-up SUV.
>He barely made it halfway up the winding dirt trail before the engine started wheezing like an old dog with asthma.
>Then the mush, the tires spun, and he found himself axle-deep in mountain mud.
>Anon got out to push.
>The-
>Anon groaned awake, head pounding, the scent of wood smoke and earthy ferment.
>He blinked. Roughhewn planks above. Patchwork quilts under him.
>And sitting at the foot of the bed, motionless, was... a kid?
>A small girl with a tangle of reddish hair covering half her face.
>Her big green eyes peeked through like two glow worms in a thicket.
>She was cradling a rusty axe across her lap like it was her favorite toy.
>“Uh… hey?” Anon croaked.
>She didn’t move. “You was talkin’ in yer sleep. Like a spooked possum dreamin’ of taxes.”
>“Where am I?”
>“You’s at our homestead. You done drove into the holler swamp, and yer car sank faster’n Pa’s dignity at the bank”
>From outside
>“HE DEAD' YET!?”
>“Naw, Billie! He’s breathin’ like a city rat!”
>Anon sat up, groaning. “Why are you holding an axe?”
>She tilted her head. “Ain’t fer hurtin’. S’fer watchin’. Pa said I gotta keep you from runnin’ off or fallin’ down the well.”
>Anon stared at her.
>She gave a small smile. “Yer real... pretty.”
>“...Thanks?”
>She leaned in, eyes wide. “Yer skin’s all smooth and soft... like a boiled yam. Not like Pa’s. He’s crunchy.”
>“I... don’t work outside much.”
>“I knew it!” she beamed. “Y’all smell like... dryer sheets an’ fancy mayonnaise. Real soft smellin’. Like if a biscuit went to college.”
>He blinked.
>“I think I like lookin’ at you,” she added singsongly, then whispered: “You'r real peaceful when you sleep. Like a hog what gave up... in a nice way.”
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