hobo heart x reader. Perhaps we value each other?

Chapter 8

"Hold up." Hobo Heart aggressively pushes himself off the metal table he was laying on, his crystal-blue eyes wide with a sudden, tense irritation. "This new blood is going to be the one I have to work with?!"

"Work with?!" My aunt exclaims, her arms violently jerking in shock, nearly dropping me before she manages to stagger over and set me down onto another surgical table right next to the one Hobo was occupying. "You are going to force Molly to work with this ASS?! After he literally tried to KILL HER?!" My aunt's voice grows dangerously louder, her face flushing crimson with a white-hot anger. "OF ALL THE STUP—!"

A deafening, static screech shoots through the air, vibrating violently behind our eyes and instantly silencing her. The raw psychic pressure could only have been produced by Slenderman himself, the room turning freezing cold in a split second.

"That is enough, child," the Operator's telepathic voice booms with absolute finality, forcing my aunt to squeeze her eyes shut. "What I say is final, and you know this well. Do you remember the last time you attempted to argue my word?"

My aunt simply nods her head, staring rigidly at the tile floorboards.

"Good," Slenderman continues, his featureless white face tilting toward my table. "Now then, Molly shall have exactly one month to remain in the infirmary to recover while we track the efficiency of her healing process. After that month, she is officially assigned to Hobo Heart to undergo field training and execution missions. This will allow me to track her physical strengths and psychological weaknesses, as well as get her properly accustomed to life here."

"M-may I ask a question?" I say, hesitantly raising my hand just a fraction of an inch while looking up at his towering silhouette. I don't want to upset him in the slightest; I've read my aunt's logs, and I know his punishments can be devastatingly harsh.

Slenderman turns his blank canvas toward me, giving a slow nod. "What is your question, child?"

"Do I have to stay here... like, forever? Or will I eventually have to go back to my family?" I ask, my voice trembling.

Beside me, my aunt stares at me with deeply sad, knowing eyes. She knows exactly what my life is like with my mom and dad, and she knows exactly what I am hoping to hear right now.

Slenderman grows entirely quiet, the stillness stretching into a long, agonizing minute as he studies me carefully, weighing the situation.

"That can be entirely up to you," he answers smoothly. "You can either choose to reside here permanently, or return to your human home. Should you choose to stay, I will personally dispatch a proxy to fetch your belongings from your room. But should you choose to leave, you—"

"I'll stay!" I blur out quickly, accidentally interrupting the master of the house in my sudden panic. "I don't care what I have to do, I want to stay here. Please... never send me back to them."

Slenderman stares down at me in a heavy, recalculating silence, before his faceless head shifts toward my aunt. "Have you known about this? This fear of her family?"

My aunt gives a small, somber nod.

Slenderman lets out a low, echoing sigh that resonates in my mind. "Meet me in my office, Marcy." He then looks back to my table, his voice dropping into a reassuring frequency. "Do not worry. Nurse Ann and Dr. Smiley will have you fixed soon." With that, a thick black tendril gently guides my aunt by the shoulder, leading her out of the medical wing.

The heavy doors click shut, and Hobo Heart sits right back down on his table, running a hand through his hair as he scowls. "This shit sucks. I finally find a perfectly good heart, and I have to fucking give it back. You just had to be special, didn't you." He throws a harsh, icy glare my way—a look that would normally terrify a human, but I am so numbingly used to that exact expression from my parents that it doesn't even phase me.

"Like I was supposed to know about any of this," I shoot back, staring blankly at the clean, sterile ceiling. "If anything, I was genuinely hoping you would just kill me."

"Wait," Hobo Heart says, his raspy voice suddenly sounding both surprised and genuinely worried as his anger evaporates. "What do you mean you were hoping I would kill you? Kid... are you alright?"

I look over at him, a dead, hollow look settling into my blue eyes that could make anyone's blood run cold. "I mean I wanted to die." I let out a weary sigh, the physical ache in my chest throbbing. "I guess since we're going to be forced to work together anyway, I might as well just show you."

I reach down and pull up the long sleeves of my grey shirt, revealing the thick, faded, and jagged white scars running up and down the flesh of my forearms.

Hobo Heart slides off his table, moving closer to stare intensely at the marks. "Why would you do this?" he mutters, his voice dropping into an uncharacteristic, raw confusion. "I've never understood why humans would harm themselves like this."

I open my mouth to speak, but the heavy metal door suddenly swings open. Panic instantly flaring, I violently yank my sleeves back down to cover my arms and look toward the entrance. Nurse Ann and Dr. Smiley walk into the infirmary, pushing a rolling stainless-steel table loaded with various surgical tools, glinting scalpels, and long needles. Hobo Heart slowly lays back down onto his table, and I do the same, my eyes tracking the two medical killers as they silently move around the room setting up the procedure.

Nurse Ann must have noticed my rigid posture and discomfort, because she walks straight over to my side and gently pats my shoulder. "Don't worry, we will have you completely fixed up in no time," she says softly. Then, she leans down close to my ear, whispering with a quiet, mischievous chuckle, "And we won't be using any painkillers on Hobo Heart."

She straightens back up, walking back over to Dr. Smiley. A few moments later, Nurse Ann approaches my table holding a dark rubber gas mask, while Dr. Smiley moves toward Hobo Heart with another.

Dr. Smiley looks across the space at Nurse Ann, then down at me. "We are going to put you two under now. When you wake up, you will have your own heart safely back in your chest, and Hobo will have a completely different one."

With that, Nurse Ann gently places the rubber mask over my nose and mouth, the sweet, heavy scent of the anesthetic instantly flooding my lungs. She stays right by my side, her hand a steady weight on my arm until the entire room dissolves, and I fall fast asleep.

The entire intricate process takes about an hour, but to my subconscious mind, it feels like only a few fleeting minutes have passed.

I wake up slowly, my eyelids heavy and crusty as the fog of the anesthesia begins to clear. The room is dimly lit, and it takes a long, disoriented moment for my eyes to fully adjust to the shadows. It's a nice, clean bedroom—completely devoid of any colorful decorations or personal touches. There is only the wooden bed beneath me, a plain dresser, and a small closet across the floorboards. The walls are a pristine white, and a single, tall window sits on the far wall, letting in the fading, blood-red rays of the setting sun.

As I lay there silently, watching the shifting colors of pink and orange dance across the ceiling, my heart beats with a steady, foreign rhythm inside my chest. It's back. The hole is completely gone, my skin woven shut.

But the peace of the room shatters instantly. I hadn't noticed the dark silhouette standing perfectly still in the far corner of the room, completely camouflaged by the shadows—until they suddenly step forward, moving with a terrifying, completely silent grace until they are hovering right next to my pillow.

I look up into the gloom, a breathless, piercing scream catching violently in my throat at the horrific face staring straight down into mine.

Standing right over my bed is a figure wearing a dark hoodie, his face completely obscured by a smooth, deep blue mask. Thick, midnight-black fluid drips relentlessly from the empty, hollow eye sockets, staining the front of his clothes.

Eyeless Jack.