How The Angel Fell: Ghost Face x Reader (DBD)

The Realisation

The next night

The Ghost Face gripped the steering wheel hard until his knuckles turned white in his black gloves. He sped down the road, barely slowing down when he made turns. The road was awfully quiet and dark as it became dead straight. The Ghost Face yanked his mask off his face and slapped it into the passenger's seat as he felt himself burn up. Stress bubbled within him deep and he felt like he was about to explode. The radio crackled out a few words in the background before he cranked it up to fill the deathly silence of the car now the gps stopped its directions. He listened to the news.

Hoping to get something new about them.

"There has been no further information about a—!" The reporter's voice broke apart through the old radio for a moment but he knew she said their name. "Who was reportedly abducted from their home at approximately twelve o'clock last night." Said the reporter.

It made Danny feel sick.

They've been there since last night. What has he been doing to them this whole time?

"The main suspect is the Ghost Face, who has been terrorising the area this past month. If you have been following the Ghost Face, you would know that journalist Danny Johnson has been working with the abducted victim in catching the crazed killer." She went on. "The Ghost Face has reportedly been obsessed with the abducted victim and he is strongly believed to be their captor. Anyone with information on their whereabouts please contact the police. Thank you and to all a good night."

The Ghost Face slammed his boot on the accelerator and zoomed down the quiet road, nothing but trees and overgrown grass passing by. He was going out of town, like he was told to.

Earlier

Danny Johnson shuffled through the door of his dingy apartment and chucked his car keys on the kitchen counter. An exhale left the tired man as he flopped down onto the couch and flicked the tv on. His eyes began to blur with the tv screen as he caught himself in a good stare. The stare didn't last long though, not after he spotted a note, pinned on the floral wallpaper.

Many things were pinned on the walls of Danny's home. Gruesome murder scenes, articles examining said photos and even the pictures of the victims before they got all chopped up. But something stood out, lined paper with crabbed handwriting like his own. Danny stood from the couch and gently tugged the note off the wall.

You think you can save them, lover boy?

FLIP OVER —>

Danny flipped over the paper to reveal a photograph of his love in their pyjamas, tied up and crying, followed by the address of the warehouse.

The note shook slightly in Danny's trembling hands. His grip on the flimsy paper tightened until it tore slightly. The man wanted to scream, shriek at the top of his lungs until his vocal chords shredded. But he couldn't. The sides of his skull burned with anxiety and his belly fell into the floor. Danny finally let go of the note and whipped around to his bedroom, the note blissfully fluttered down to the floor behind him.

"Dead," Danny uttered suddenly. He ripped his closet door opened and grabbed his shroud and mask. "Dead, dead, dead..." his hushed voice trembled. "You're..." Danny grabbed his knife from his drawer, the sharp blade glinted in the dark room.

"You're—you're fucking dead."

Danny quickly threw his hood up and adjusted his mask on his face. He sped over to the wall of photos and articles, and plucked a photograph of Derek Grey off the wall. His photo was pinned upon the wall surrounded by articles about his mercenaries that they both wrote about.

Danny crumpled the photo up into a tight ball and dropped it to the floor with the note.

"You're dead."

Now

Danny couldn't see anything in front of him in the dark. Tall trees loomed over him as he sped down the dead tar. The straight road went on and on until the gps finally spat out to him to turn left at a turn he could barely see. He once again hardly slowed down for the turn and slipped in and continued, trying to spot something that he didn't know what to look for.

And then he finally saw the first building he had seen in ages. A tall abandoned warehouse with boarded up windows and rotten wood adorned with shonky graffiti. Danny practically ripped himself out of the car and slammed the door behind him after placing his mask back on. His sturdy combats boots padded thickly against the tall grass as he approached the boarded door. The Ghost Face kicked the door in with as much force he could muster and he was sure that wherever he may of been, Derek would've heard it hit the ground.

Danny slunk back into the shadows, trying to remain out of sight. He slivered through empty rooms in search of Derek and/or his love.

He also hoped to God that Derek gave him the right address and wasn't just fucking with him.

Later

I was starving, my wrists and ankles were stinging from the zip ties cutting into my flesh. When the endless night ended, the day came and then the night again. Derek had left me with two men, who he then explained to me were his mercenaries. The colour drained from my face and onto the dirty ground when he said that. It was him—all him. Danny was right. Even the Ghost Face was right.

I remained in the same room and same chair for God knew how long. When I needed to pee, the two mercenaries would roughly escort me outside of the grotty building and turned their backs to me while I went behind some bushes, their big guns never leaving their tatted arms. When I was done, they'd fasten me back into the wooden chair and stand by the door, guarding me until their apparent shifts were over then another pair of mercenaries would take their places.

I hadn't needed to go outside for a long time now. I was dehydrated, hungry and felt like I was shrivelling up. All I could do was bow my exhausted head and try to nod off into a blissful sleep. But tonight was a bit different—more mercenaries were here and even Derek was too. It was like they were expecting something.

The police? FBI?

A man's scream ripped through the warehouse.

Whoever was here, I knew they weren't with the law.

I watched helplessly as the two men guarding me emptied the room and left me alone with the rats that scurried by. I had a lot of time to think while I was here, but it was only then that I began to piece it all together.

Somebody was here for me—not police—killer. The Ghost Face. Why did Derek kidnap me? Because Ghosty liked me. Mercenaries—paid to kill...

They lured the Ghost Face here to assassinate, and I was the bait that got him here.

Another scream ripped through the air, he wasn't going down without a fight.

For the first time today, a smile met my tired features. I opened my mouth slowly to whisper through my hushed voice that cracked dryly.

"Go get 'em, Ghosty."