Better Luck Next Time! // Creepypasta x lucky reader

Ch16

"... why?"

Alex did not sound upset, maybe he has heard those words before, to stop searching for people who do not exist, to forget, to live for yourself. I can admire him, his devotion to fix something he broke.

"They are content with the way their lives are, don't confuse them with a promise of something impossible"

I adjusted my position, leaning my head against the wall and gazing at the flickering bulb on the ceiling, a bitter feeling crawling around my lungs.

"Sometimes it's best to forget"

"..."

I smiled "Besides, two of those jerks owe me money, can't have you running off with them before I'm paid"

Alex remained quiet from then on, I could not tell if I had offended him, or if he is thinking greatly on my words, regardless I said my honest feeling on the matter, sometimes it is best to pretend bad things never happened, be it for yourself, or someone else.

I glance at my watch, contemplating on taking a nap, I have only been here for a few hours and I feel my thoughts taking over.

The rumble of the steel door jolted me to attention, I recovered my watch and remained where I sat, looking at the door expectantly as it is slowly pushed open.

Dr. Morales emerged from behind the thick metal door, forcefully pushing the heavy metal frame, his brow sweating from the effort.

He stepped into the he room, glancing around it before setting his gaze on me. He swiftly approaches, kneeling before me with a face full of fear and worry.

"My goodness, (Y/N) are you able to stand? Are you injured anywhere?"

I shook my head, allowing him to pull me to my feet, he dusted off my uniform and placed his hands on my shoulders, pulling my body close to him.

"I'm relieved to see you are alright. Come, I'll make you some tea"

He kept me close as he led me out of the padded room, rushing through the empty hall and into an office.

I tried to be subtle in my glances, the office has a nicer layout compared to the other, the desk furnished from red wood and the chairs a clean white cushion, even the carpet sported the cleanest white.

The doctor caught my interested glances, chuckling heatedly, "do you like it? It's my new office, a lot of the rooms are being renovated for convenience"

His face became serious, he places his hands back into my shoulders, his eyes full of concern, "are you truly alright? I heard you had been attacked by another patient, an aggressive one, if you even have a scratch, please let me know"

I sighed, looking my dominant hand over, the scabs from the mirror still visible from this morning, my ribs still hurt, and I still think some of my fingers are broken, but there is no reason for me to disclose such details. I enjoy the pain, a reminder of my victory over my hindrance.

I removed my mask, pulling myself away from the doctors' arms and plopping messily onto the cushioned chair, I gave him a reassuring smile, "no need to be so worried Doctor, I won that fight"

His posture falls, his face laced with anguish, he seemed startled of my disclosure, backing away, and turning his focus on the mugs in a glass cabinet.

I sat up, looking the room over again, I suppose there are going to be changes not only to the staff rooms but the facility in a whole. A stack of papers sat piled half haphazardly on the coffee table by my feet, the words printed neatly in bold calibri.

The doctor who stood idol, watching the tea steep with an unfocused stare. I leaned forward and spread the stack out, looking over the headers intently.

These papers where taken from the archive, sporting information about many patients in the human wing, a red pen underlined and circled information regarding the patient's life, the death of a family member, the loss of one's wealth, the circumstances are endless.

There are familiar names as well, Natalie as Clockwork, Nathan, and Alex, Helen's bio is interesting, even Jeffrey Woods, all had a large amount of red ink making up their information.

During breakfast they said the institution will be trying harder to pick out the CPs, but all these papers are similarly marked in red pen, seems they are having a hard time figuring out who is who.

What stood out to me was everyone's history, every person in this place has had a hard beginning, bullying, abuse, neglect, some were involved in an involuntary accident being in the wrong place in the wrong time.

But the thing is, there shitty lives can be blamed on other people. Instigation, manipulation, what a horrible society.

I replaced the stack to its corner on the coffee table, a page fluttered off the bottom, the bold header printed brightly in red.

B.A.C.K.

A recognizable name.

Skimming through the lines with my breath held the paper almost slipped out of my hand. An organization, an underground black market, this-

I placed the paper down, sliding it back under the pile, disgust filled me, with the words burned into my brain. I placed my mask onto my face, attempting to hide away my crinkled nose, a mug is placed on the table in front of me, the lovely fruit aroma wafted from the steeped rose-coloured water.

"... you placed your mask on, do you... not want your tea?" Dr. M sat himself in the chair across from me, he wore an uneasy expression, holding his own mug against his chest with both hands, "could your please... take it off?"

I shook my head, "I will when the tea cools, I don't want it off"

The doctor swallow, sighing heavily and avoided his eyes, "... you are getting worse..."

"What?"

He placed his mug down, getting to his feet with a look of determination, "please come with me (Y/N), I would like to show you something"