9 o'clock in the evening on a Saturday. The rainy streets below were awash in the smell of cheap perfume, with a dash of lunacy and a shot of madness. Love was in the air, which meant my job wasn't getting easier any time soon.
This city used to be a nicer place. People were happy. Men could walk the streets without fearing for the loss of their chastity. Those were simpler times, before the "yandere" menace appeared. I sat in that smoky office of mine, leaning against my old leather armchair, reminiscing aimlessly about the old days. Yes, as hard as it was to believe, there was a time when those sick, predatory obsessives didn't stalk the streets like parasites searching for young, innocent cock to suck.
Their tactics are as simple as they are sinister. A yandere appears outwardly like a proper, innocent young maiden. They are masters of deception and disguise and will keep up their appearance as long as it takes to cement their grip on their target. Once she finds a suitable prey — preferably, a young, inexperienced male — she propositions him for a formal relationship. Of course, this is only a ruse, as the yandere's true motivation is to monopolize him, to make him only look at her, to make him dependent on her love, and eventually, to kidnap and enslave him so he can never leave her. It's a story that happens every day in this rotten city. Yes, every day, countless men disappear into the cellars, basements, closets, and dungeons of their sick, twisted captors, never to be seen again.
I took another puff of my cigar, before clenching my fist. See, when I see a problem, I immediately try and think of how to fix it. That's why I became a private eye in the first place. At first it was for the victims — yes, I used to really care about those things, "helping" people and all that. These days? The only thing that keeps me going is alcohol and bitterness. I don't do this for the victims anymore — no, it's the hate that drives me, the desire for revenge, for justice, for SOMETHING to be done.
And now, I know I won't sleep soundly at night until every one of those damned yanderes is either locked up for life, or six feet under.
A knock on the door. I glanced at my watch. Right on schedule.
"Come in," was all I said. Into my old office walked a tall, blonde dame like a purebred golden retriever at a dog show. She was a pretty girl, to be sure, but the dames who walk in through my door didn't tend to be here for chit-chat or small-talk.
"You're a detective, right?" she asked innocently enough.
"Cut to the point," I said, waving my cigar in the air. "I'm already making an exception for you, meeting you on such short notice, Miss..."
"Graves. Eleanor Graves." she answered. "My friends usually call me Ellie."
"Well then, Miss Graves." I continued dismissively. "I'm a problem solver, so what kind of problem are you foisting on me tonight?"
"It's my friend." she said, handing me a faded photograph. A woman who looked like her (though with a far worse haircut), and a slightly chubby boy about her age...
"This your junior prom picture or something? Don't you have anything more recent?"
"I'm afraid not," she said, her face dropping. "A-and it was never like that between us. He was—"
"A pure, innocent virgin, yes, this isn't my first rodeo, Miss Graves." I sighed, standing up from my chair. I put out the cigar in the crowded ashtray on my desk. "Your friend has gone missing, and you suspect it was the work of a yandere. Now you're filled with regret that you didn't make the move first, and you want to get him back before he's turned into a permanently brainwashed fuck-rod for some psychotic, semen-crazed nutcase."
"That...sums it up, yes." she answered finally. I pulled out a notepad and paper.
"Alright, Miss Graves," I said, looking her in the eye, "I want you to try to remember everything you can. When's the last time you saw him? Did you see the yandere you think took him away? Were there any strange signs leading up to his disappearance? I want every detail, no matter how insignificant you think it is."
"Well, detective, I suppose I should start from the beginning. You see,