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

The Injury

Last night

"What did I do? Why am I here?" I asked hesitantly.

The large man before me squinted one of his eyes as he peered through the scope of his rifle and aimed it at the broken window.

"My boss will probably wanna tell you that." The man answered and lowered his gun.

"Who's your boss?"

As if on cue, a small eruption of laughter came from outside the room. I jumped fearfully in the chair I was tied to and perked up to listen more. I could hear a group of men talking and joking but what they were chatting about was incoherent from my seat. Soon one voice became closer and louder.

"Yeah, thanks, guys." I heard a man say from almost right outside the door.

The man with the rifle sat down on a chair next to said door. Another chair on the other side of the door was there too. I sharp gasp left my lips when the door opened, revealing a handsome man holding a camera.

Derek Grey.

"Hello." Derek smiled.

I didn't reply but instead stared wide eyed at the man. He kept on smiling and causally grabbed the empty chair by the door and walked over to me with it. Derek plopped the old wooden seat right in front of mine and slumped right into it, balancing the camera on his lap.

"Now, I'm sure you'd love an explanation." Said Derek.

"Why am I here?" I blurted out.

"You have something that I need." He answered.

"No, I don't. I have nothing. I haven't done anything! Let me go!" I snarled.

Derek kept his smile and friendly exterior strong.

"You have the Ghost Face."

I paused and stared at him confusingly.

"What?" I spat.

"You see, me and my boys could really use the money he's gonna get us." Replied Derek.

"What? What money? And what boys? I don't understand. You're a journalist." I said with a furrowed brow.

"Well, yes... I did study journalism and everything..." the blonde man trailed.

My face grew stern.

"You're one of those mercenaries, aren't you? I thought I recognised him." I said, nodding my head to the man behind him.

That night Danny and I had dinner, he showed me photographs of the mercenaries. The large tatted man in the room with me matched the bloodied one in the photo. I couldn't believe I didn't notice it sooner.

"I can tell you're distressed. We aren't going to hurt you." Said Derek.

"You broke into my house, knocked me out and kidnapped me." I stated.

Derek chuckled while the man at the door didn't move. He slowly stood from his seat, taking his camera in his hands again. The old tears that had left dry streaks on each of my cheeks now gave me a cool breeze as the wind blew through the boarded window. I watched as Derek lifted his camera up to his eyes and flashed a photo of me. I stared into the bright lens and flinched when it flickered into my puffy eyes.

"I'm getting sidetracked." Derek rambled. "Don't worry. They'll know you're missing. This is for a very special person." He laughed again. "Don't get me wrong, I love journalism. But it's just a coverup job at the moment. We make such good money right now! Danny's little journalist desk job is nothing compared to the money we make." Derek crooned.