Pure of Mind and Sharp of Knife (Male Reader x Female Creepypasta)

From Our Ashes

In the bathroom, I unravel the bandages covering my head and inspect the wound in the mirror.

It's been a little under a week since we settled down and formed our coalition. We've mostly stuck to ourselves, only greeting our doubles when we encounter one another leaving the mansion. Even so, it only happened twice. More unfortunately, it's hard to tell if they've lost their interest in maintaining a bond with us or if they're giving us time to recover in peace. Now that I think about them, I forgot to ask Slenda about the whole "Slender Sickness" thing.

I peel off the shoulder pad keeping my raw skin clean. I stand sideways in the mirror and study the healing layers. A scar of that size would look weird. Out of all my other wounds, I hope this one heals the most.

My forearm is just fine, thankfully. The long slice is still visible but has thinned out during the healing process. Ann removed the stitches for me a few days ago. She also had to work some extra magic on my forearm; Nina ended up cutting the muscles controlling the contraction of my ring and middle fingers. Their function only returned this morning, and I still can't squeeze them into a tight fist.

This Brand is a blessing. Not only is it able to mend flesh in days, but it's able to transcend death itself. Without it, we'd all be powerless. We'd lose what makes us Proxies. Battles would be shorter and our lives finite. We would be just as vulnerable as any other person on the street.

Leaving the bathroom, I put on a fresh pair of shorts and a t-shirt to accommodate for the onset of summer. Slenda chose the most optimal place for the mansion; we get snow in winter, but a comfortable amount of rain and heat in the summer. It lets us experience a bit of everything.

Before I leave the room, I remember to retrieve my knife from the nightstand. As I grab it, I also notice my phone next to it. I forget the knife and turn the device on before moving to the dial. After punching in the numbers, I put the phone to my ear and stare out the window at the trees as I await an answer. The phone beeps, and I stare down at the screen, reading the text saying the number does not exist.

Scarecrow still hasn't picked up, which means Zalga hasn't arrived in this world yet. After thinking about my original problem some more, I found a loophole in contacting Scarecrow with Benny's help. She tampered with the device so that there's no possibility of my call reaching any other phone except Scarecrow's if there's a number identical to hers. She may not be good at fighting, but Benny's damn good when it counts.

I leave my phone and drop my stiletto into my pocket as I enter the hallway. The walk to the staircase is too quiet for the mansion. In the kitchen, I find Jill scooping some eggs onto her plate. She turns around, sees me walk in, and a scowl forms on her face. Jill brushes past me as she heads for her room to eat in a place free of my presence. Scarecrow's foreshadowing of the battle didn't allow me to take the time to speak to her. To make things right, I'll give her a special day once we've slipped back into our normal lives.

After getting my own breakfast, I enter the dining room and sit down with the rest of the mansion. I sit at Slenda's right hand side across from Rouge and next to Jess. None of the girls utter a word. The dining hall feels empty without the rest of them to fill up the chairs. Helen wishes me a good morning while everyone else has their faces tilted down at their food. I rest my head on my fist and crunch on a piece of bacon as I stare at the table.

Slenda puts her hand on my head, "(Y/N)? Are you still sleepy?"

"Was I nodding off?" I wipe a napkin across my mouth.

She nods, "Your eye began to droop."

Ann looks up at me as she chews. Rouge, Benny, and Helen have lifted their heads to watch me too. Angel swivels her head at the other end of the table and tries to hide her arm, which has regrown up to the elbow joint. Jess just keeps eating.