hobo heart x reader. Perhaps we value each other?

Chapter 9

Standing right next to my bed was Eyeless Jack. His blue mask covered his face, his hood was pulled over his head, and his hands were shoved deep into his pockets. I somehow managed not to scream at the sight of him, even though the last time I saw him, he was trying to eat me alive.

I tried to sit up to put some distance between us, but a sharp wave of agony instantly made me wince; the anesthesia from the surgery was starting to wear off. Before I could pull away, he placed a surprisingly gentle, gloved hand on my shoulder and shook his head.

"Take it easy, kid," his voice came out as a muffled, raspy whisper behind the plastic. "I just came in here to apologize. I seriously didn't realize you were her niece." He looked away from me, staring at the blank white wall. "She gives me the absolute creeps, and I'd much rather not piss her off any more than I already have by accident. My head still hurts from where she leveled me with that frying pan. I will never understand why she uses kitchenware as a weapon."

I lay there in total silence, listening to a legendary cannibal ramble like a nervous teenager, until a sharp knock on the wood saved me from his blabbering and made Jack jump nearly out of his skin. The door slowly creaked open, and Nurse Ann's voice drifted in.

"Molly? Are you okay in there? I'm coming in to change your bindings." She pushed the door wide open, stopping dead in her tracks the second her gaze landed on the blue mask. Her stance went rigid, her eyes narrowing as if she was ready to slaughter him on the spot. "And what exactly do you think you are doing in here?"

"I-I just came to apologize to her," Jack stammered slightly, raising his hands and backing away from my mattress.

"Get out," Nurse Ann said flatly, her voice cutting like a scalpel.

Jack didn't need to be told twice; he practically bolted past her and vanished down the hallway. Ann let out a quiet chuckle, turning her attention back to me as she wheeled a cart of medical supplies over. "He didn't bug you too much, did he?"

I slowly forced my body into a sitting position, shaking my head. "No, but you definitely saved me from his talking. I seriously thought he was never going to shut up." I stared down at my trembling fingers as she began setting up her tools. "Nurse Ann... can I ask you something?"

"What's up, sweetie? You can ask me anything you want, and I'll tell you," she replied, the warmth in her voice clear even behind her heavy medical mask.

"What is my Aunt Marcy actually like here?" I asked, trying my absolute best to remain still as she snipped through my old bandages with a pair of surgical scissors.

"Miss Marcy?" Ann paused for a moment, gently pulling away the blood-soaked wrappings. "She can be utterly terrifying when she wants to be, but overall, she's a really great girl. She gets along with almost everyone in the mansion. And," a small, amused chuckle escaped her, "she can completely kick the ass of almost every single guy in this house." She grew quiet for a beat, carefully adjusting a clean roll of gauze. "Though... I don't think that's what you're really asking, is it?"

I shook my head, my throat tightening. I was at a complete loss for how to properly ask what kind of monster my aunt truly was when she was out on a hunt. The aunt I grew up with was gentle, kind, and wouldn't hurt a fly. She was the only person who was ever there for me, the one who helped me survive the brutal torment my parents inflicted on me for years.

"I'm just... I'm not sure."

"You're not sure if you're ready to hear about that side of her yet," Ann said, her voice dropping into a deep, comforting understanding I never thought a cold-blooded killer could possess. "Am I right?"

She began wrapping the fresh gauze around my chest, but not before I looked down at myself. A horrific patch of discolored, heavily bruised skin now covered the center of my torso where the gaping hole used to be, surrounded by thick, black surgical stitches. A sickening wave of vertigo hit me as the dark thoughts rushed back in. What would have happened if Marcy hadn't shown up with that frying pan? Would Eyeless Jack have finished his meal, or would I have run into something far worse in these halls?

The sheer gravity of the nightmare completely overwhelmed my senses. The room tilted violently, and I didn't even realize my body was falling sideways until Nurse Ann's strong arms caught me mid-air. She laid me back down, her voice a distant, muffled echo as she frantically checked my pulse, but I couldn't hear her over the roaring static in my own head. My vision splintered into hazy shadows, my eyelids turned to lead, and I slowly slipped straight back into the dark.

When I finally wake up again, the smell of clean linen is gone, replaced by the suffocating scent of chemical sanitizer and old rust. I'm back in the main infirmary, completely disoriented. As the fog of sleep clears, a heated argument drifts through the heavy wooden door, the voices sharp and echoing.

I can hear my aunt above them all, a raw, frantic panic in her tone that makes my chest tighten. "What the hell is wrong with her?"

An unfamiliar voice responds—sharp, elegant, but dripping with a dangerous, mad-hatter kind of instability. "Well, her unique anatomy is clearly rejecting the transfusion. If you utilized her original organs, the complication must be the donor fluid. Did you two brilliant minds actually ensure the blood types matched before pumping it into her veins?"

"I am a licensed surgeon, Locklear, I think I know how to check a basic blood compatibility chart for my own patient," Dr. Smiley snaps back, his tone dripping with sheer annoyance.

"I personally collected the blood from donors who perfectly matched her human chart," Nurse Ann chimes in, her voice steady but laced with a creeping worry. "So unless one of those targets managed to lie to me before they died, she was given the correct type."

"Is there anything we can do to fix her?!" Marcy pleads, her voice cracking completely as she fights through tears. Hearing her cry—the strongest, most unyielding woman I knew—breaks my heart into pieces.

"Please attempt to calm yourself, Miss Marcy. It is such a profound pity to see a terrifying woman like you break down into hysterics," the new doctor says, his attempt at a soothing tone coming off as entirely sarcastic and condescending.

"How about I tear your balls off and shove them up your ass, Locklear? Maybe that will help me calm down!" Marcy roars back, the raw venom in her voice instantly silencing the room. "That is my fucking niece on that table, the only real family I have left on this earth! Tell me to calm down one more time and I will break you so badly these two won't be able to piece you back together!"

A heavy, suffocating silence drops over the hallway before Nurse Ann softly clears her throat. "Marcy... perhaps we should go check on Molly and let these two finish running the panels."

A second later, the heavy door swings open and my aunt steps into the room. The moment she sees my eyes open, she sprints straight to the edge of the mattress. "Oh, Molly, you're awake! Thank god... I was so incredibly worried you weren't going to pull through." She gently places her trembling palm against my cheek, her eyes bloodshot. "I'm staying right here by your side until you get better. Slenderman can kiss my ass for all I care, I'm not leaving."

I swallow hard, looking past her shoulder toward the corridor. "Who was that out there? I didn't recognize his voice."

My aunt slowly drops her hand, letting out a weary, frustrated sigh. "We had to bring in some outside medical help, someone I am absolutely not a fan of. His name is Doctor Locklear. He's a wanted mad scientist in the human world—mass murder, illegal human experimentation, and a massive god complex. He has a huge ego, so do your best not to stroke it." She rolls her eyes, letting out a dry chuckle.

Before I can ask anything else, a sharp knock rattles the frame, and the unfamiliar face pops into the room. He is a tall man with long, ink-black hair tied back neatly, sporting an olive complexion and piercing, icy-blue eyes. He looks at my aunt, trying desperately to mask a sudden surge of genuine panic in his voice, but failing completely.

"Marcy, you need to come out here right now," Locklear states sharply, his eyes flickering down to my monitor. "We have a major problem."

My aunt stiffens, throwing a final, protective glance over her shoulder at me before she turns and slowly exits the room, leaving me alone with the steady, frantic beating of my own heart.