Delirium (Creepypasta x reader)

•48•

You wanted to survive. That's what brought you here in the end. Through those grueling training nights, the physical and verbal abuse, the deterioration of your life – it was all because you wanted to keep living when those around you tried their hardest to snuff you out.

The body beside you was a testament to your need to survive.

Across the clearing, the person moved. Advancing on you with determination in their gait, in the way their face was twisted. Decision made.

Yours was made as well.

Before they could take another step, you readied yourself. Crouched, bunched your protesting leg muscles. The person stuttered, and you took the second of hesitation to hurl yourself forward. Shoes biting the ground and arms swinging close to your sides, looking all the word like you were going to crash right into them; try to bowl them over through sheer force. Telegraphing your movement so brazenly it was like you were overcome with emotion.

You saw how the person readied themselves, centering their gravity to catch you, to leverage your weight and velocity against you-

But that wasn't actually your goal.

You feinted left, then dived right- they lurched to grab you, surprised, shifting their stance-

Grass ripped up from under the sole of your shoe from how quickly you kicked up, slamming your foot into their knee as hard as you could.

The person crumpled to the ground like a puppet with its strings cut. Wailing in pain and reaching to clutch at their leg. Twitching as the pain intensified, their hands recoiling like they had touched flame. The kneecap had shifted sideways, now no longer connecting the leg together.

You took a step towards them- they snarled, forming fists and swinging at you in warning, spitting threats with a poison tongue. Even as tears dripped down their face it was marred with blood, with anger. Marking them as a monster – an animal intent on staying alive.

You watched, and as you took no other action the person began dragging themselves away. Hands scrabbling for purchase behind their back, using their one functional leg to scoot backward. Once they assumed enough ground had been gained, they gritted their teeth and reached for the leg again.

To set their knee back in place.

It would never be easy – you were naive to believe they would simply concede and leave the clearing after a strategic attack. If they reset their knee, they would keep coming until one of you was dead.

You needed to protect yourself.

Walking in a wide arc, you circled this monster like a predator – stepping back as they lunged at you over and over. Arms reaching out to grab a hold of you, to bring you down with them.

You played keep-away with your own body, stepping back and forth, watching for an opening. Appraising them, watching as sweat collected on their forehead, how their skin grew more pallid, their swings fatigued. With their knee still out of place they were essentially stranded. No autonomy, with how you didn't let them rest.

Maybe they thought you weren't going to do anything. That you were gun-shy, or simply a coward unable to finish the job. Whatever went through their mind gave them the courage to ignore you for more than a second, to again reach down and wrench at their kneecap.

You advanced – they ignored you-

Lifting your leg, you swung your foot-

They grabbed your ankle with both hands, tugged as hard as they could to upset your balance.

You crashed to the ground with a groan, head smacking against the ground. Your sight burst into yellows, purples, black splotches-

The person clawed their way up your torso, wrenching your hand away as you tried to push them off.