Yandere Face Slapping Short Stories & Novels

Elaine Foster loved to test my love for her. She faked a chronic illness and convinced me to donate blood for her 99 times. When it came for the 100th time, I was already severely anemic. I finally said no. She turned around and used the blood I had given her to make blood sausages for Karl Claflin’s dog. Karl was the most popular guy on campus. Curled up in Karl’s arms, she said to me, “Michael Messner, I was never sick. I only pretended to be, just to see if you really loved me. Unfortunately, you failed the final test. I’m very disappointed. We are done.” I smiled indifferently and walked away without looking back. Five years later, we met again at the top hospital in the country. By then, neither Elaine nor Karl knew that they both had malignant gliomas growing in their brains. I had become the only neurosurgeon in the country capable of successfully removing them. When she saw me in plain clothes, wiping vomit off the hospital floor, she had assumed I was a janitor. She sneered, “Michael, you’d really stoop to anything to run into me, wouldn’t you? You even followed me here. It’s time you faced reality. I’m worth millions now, and you are just a janitor. We are worlds apart. Stop embarrassing yourself.” I did not bother answering. At that moment, I was only thinking about which nurse I would need to speak to for slacking off on the job. Luckily, I had just finished surgery and was going home when I spotted the patient in distress. Otherwise, the patient could have been in serious danger.

I arrived at yet another family gathering to see Declan Mercer's assistant sitting in my seat. I turned to him. "She's sitting in the hostess's seat. Do you really have nothing to say?" He looked at me like I was wasting his time. "You showed up late, so don't blame her for taking your spot. There's an empty seat right there. You can sit there, or you can get out." I was about to respond when Declan's inner voice flooded my head. "Come on, babe. Get mad already. "Tell me you need me. Tell me you want to sit next to me. "Prove to me that you love me. That's the only way I'll feel secure." This time, I did not give his inner voice what it wanted. I simply looked down and slid the ring off my finger. "If there isn't a place for me at this table, then I suppose I'm not needed here anymore. "Let's get a divorce."

After getting tormented by electrical shocks for five years, I've contracted severe brain atrophy. Once the psychiatric hospital kicks me out, I rely on the posts that are recorded in my old Facebook account in order to survive. Rosalie Vaughn, my childhood friend and former girlfriend who has sworn to torture me till I die, takes her rich fiance, Sebastian Crowe, back to the old, rundown complex. The moment she sees me curling up on the moldy couch while clutching my phone tightly, she lets out a scoff. "Oh? Now that you've escaped from the hospital, are you still waiting for some rich woman's text? Weren't you very quick and decisive when you stole my life-saving money back then? Why are you still pretending to be some devoted man?" As soon as Rosalie's voice falls, she snatches my phone from my hands. After keying in the wrong password three times in a row, she chooses to recover my password. The moment she sees the security question, her mocking expression freezes momentarily. The question shows, "Who's the only one I've loved in this life?" I blink hazily, my eyes cloudy and dull. Then, I tug at Rosalie's sleeve. "Miss, do you know who she is? I remember I used to love someone with all my heart, but I think she locked me up in a psychiatric hospital." After that, I turn around and try to scavenge the trash can for a piece of expired bread just so I can offer it to the "nice lady".

Before we went to meet my boyfriend's parents, he swore to me and said, "Don't worry, my mom is easy to get along with. She's just a little naive." I believed him and showed up with gifts. The moment the door opened, I froze in the entryway. My future mother-in-law was wearing a pale pink baby onesie! My eyes nearly popped out, but my boyfriend simply laughed. "It's just my mom's hobby. Don't let it bother you too much." I took a deep breath and offered her my gifts. "Hello, ma'am. It's so nice to meet you. These are just some gifts..." But before I could finish, my boyfriend's mother's eyes suddenly turned red, and she began to whimper. "Why are you calling me ma'am? I'm just a baby!"

I'm the textbook definition of low energy. Even today, when I catch my fiance, Seth Dane, pinning his side chick down and making out with her in the car, my first reaction is to admire his stamina. To me, cheating just sounds exhausting. I casually snap a photo as evidence, then turn to leave. That's when I find myself making eye contact with a tall guy behind me. He's clearly about to throw a sack over my head. I'm still trying to figure out the most low-effort way to scream for help when he takes off his baseball cap, revealing a stupidly handsome face. "Cami, I fell madly in love with you the second I saw you. If you agree to let me lock you up, I'll help you get back at that scumbag," he says. Damn. Is this what people mean when they talk about obsessed psychos? But when I look closer and see how much he resembles my fiance's side piece, I instantly figure out who he is. "Cami, you can't escape. Stay with me forever. I'll take good care of you…" I grab his hand, yank the sack over my head, and say, "Food, a roof over my head for life, and revenge on those two cheaters? That's a killer deal. Whoever backs out of this is cursed for life!"