Terato-Palingenesis (Yuri pays Anon a visit post act 2)

You're woken up by the sound of rustling and clanging metal in your kitchen. You curse to yourself silently as you slide out of your bed, grabbing at your phone and wishing you spent your allowance on a weapon for self defense instead of a new game you'll never play.
You inch along the hallway, slowly acclimating to the pitch darkness. The opening to your kitchen beckons, like a gaping maw waiting for prey.

In the swirling greens and blues you make out a silhouette,hunched over where your counter is, swaying and stuttering in place like a hand cranked animation. You slowly reach over to your side, grasping for anything to put between you and it. Your finger tips brush against a wooden pole, and you grasp it tightly. As you pull it closer to yourself, however, it knocks into a salt shaker among a pile of junk you failed to notice was strewn onto the floor, piercing the sounds of ragged breaths and rubbing steel with porcelain skittering on tiles. You and the intruder freeze.

You reach for the light switch and fumble it on with your phone clenching hand, squinting in preparation for the sudden blinding light. There's a hiss and a clatter of metal on the floor, and your eyes shoot wide at what you see, despite the painful brightness.

"What the fuck?! Yuri?!"
In response to being caught her mouth blooms and unleashes a horrid screech as she drops the rest of your kitchen knives.
Your reflexes alone save you as you dive to the side, swinging your broom to fend her off. You feel the pole bend and shatter against her face, a rumbling growl of pain blurring your eyes and giving you a slight sense of vertigo, leaving you unable to get up.
You crawl towards the center your kitchen , blindly waving your broom in the direction you last saw her to defend yourself. You can feel almost half of it broke off at the end, leaving a jagged point. Growls and moans echo deeper in your house, bouncing off the walls, disorienting you.
You snatch up your phone and sprint out of your kitchen and for the front door. You see it's been jimmied open, a piece of warped metal on a plastic handle next to it in a pool of fluid.

Your bare feet pound against your floor, your heartbeat and breathing combining with your vertigo and leaving you near blind and deaf in the darkness of your house. You feel a hot breath touch the back of your neck, the faintest hint of jasmine in a fog of bile. You dive for the ground.

the skin on your knees scrapes off on the carpet as you feel a rush of wind above you, making you wince. You only have seconds to react. In the dark you see a shape masked by long trailing hair, bound off the floor and against the wall, already facing you and ready to pounce. You throw your impromptu spear like a javelin, and it pierces her thigh.
You're blinded and deafened by a shriek of pain and pleasure, your organs vibrating as you feel her bound over you as she flees.

You scramble along on all fours towards your front door, passing it and moving to shut it behind you.
As you close the door, you see eyes reflecting light from your porch light flowing into your home, clearing three steps with each bound. Eyes with pupils so dilated it's as if she has no iris. she growls as she closes the distance, forcing you to lean against the door as hard as you can.
You feel the wood warp and splinter slightly as she hammers against it, bruising you through the thick hardwood. You can barely hear it, just feel your door vibrate and shake as you pray the door holds. The muffled screeching and pounding eventually fades off and stops, presumably back inside your kitchen.

You notice the hinges are warped and the wood sitting irregularly in the frame, the door won't open again. You huddle up against it, eyes scanning the shadows of your yard for movement as you dial your phone.
It rings for what feels like an eternity as you twitch under the light,. You're about to forsake calling for help and run into the street when you hear the ringing stop, replaced by a girls voice.

"Anon, what the hell? It's three in the morni-"
You interrupt her with a harsh whisper.
"Natsuki, I need help. You have to call Monika. Please!"
As you spew the words into the mouthpiece of your phone as fast as you can allow, you freeze.
You feel a lock of hair brush against the top of your head. You left your bedroom window open. Fingers, pale and spider like, loop around your chest from above. You pray she doesn't notice you grabbing the broken knife at your left and hiding it in your sleeve as you're hoisted into the air by surprising strength. Your vision is obscured by a curtain of smooth violet.

"What? Anon, what's happening? You're scaring me! What happened?"
"HELP ME-"
Your silenced when something presses against your lips. It was cold, too cold. You taste rot and salt, making you gag and tear up.
You feel your window frame drag across your back as you're pulled back into your room, into an embrace of hard muscle and scratchy fabric. She's taller than you remember. Much taller.

"Anon?! Anon! I'm calling the police, and Monika, Everyone, please just get out of-"
One of her arms unwraps around you and clutches your phone. A sound of crushing plastic and glass, then silence. You pray Monika can stop this. Your room is nothing but your whimpers and darkness. And breathing.

Your tears are flowing down your face as you try to think of a way to run.
A satisfied sigh joins your muffled cries, a putrid scent of rotting meat and jasmine washes over you.
"Anon... I remember now... I'm so happy to be back, and I can indulge all I want now, with you." Her voice is hoarse, like pebbles flowing down steps. As she turns you around like a mannequin, you slide the knife out of your sleeve, ready to make a desperate gambit to earn a chance to escape.

The jagged metal sinks deep into her, under the ribs, through her old wound and into her heart. Her arms grip around you tighter, you feel your bones creak in protest. She giggles and coos in pleasure as she pulls you closer still, into her lap and against her chest, pushing the warped blade in as deep as it can go. Tears flow down your face as you lock eyes with her in the dark. She smiles, the corners seeming to go further than they should in the blackness. You start to laugh, voice cracked and weak. Your chest starts to ache, but you can't stop. Laughter and breathing.

Cold blood soaks into your clothes, making you shiver. You feel the muscles in her abdomen twitching around the knife. Her fish belly white fingers run through your hair as she whispers into your ear, long after your laughter gives way to sobs, to numb silence, to breathing. Sweet nothings, promises, threats and breathing.