Better Luck Next Time! // Creepypasta x lucky reader

Ch30

Thank you for the Fan Gacha @HuslHusk

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Silence, both I and Dr. Morales walk stiff through the hallway, a heavy air of awkward tension between us.

A good part of my silence can be faulted for the late night, so little sleep can make one prone to solitary, the rude awakening did little to improve such wellness. It is truly worrying, had BEN not taken action to preserve himself I would have lost a key character to getting the fuck out of here, no doubt the lovely doctor overheard our conversation after returning the night prior. The action begs the question, how much does Dr. Morales truly know about my task and how far is he willing to go to find out more?

He may act as such, but he is no fool.

My mouth stretches into a thin line as the doctor once again glances away, he continues to subtly peer at me through the corner of his eye, debating on saying God knows what in defense of his behavior.

It stings, I love him, but I hate him. Dr. Morales has been my supporter from the night my mom died, he took me under his wing during the worse time of my life, he is a fool, far to kind hearted and exploitative, a man who wishes only the best regardless of what befalls him in return. Yet, I return this mans good will with malice, to the extend I find his presence annoying and burdensome, lying to him through my teeth, intending to destroy the institution he holds in high regard.

Some recompense.

The doctor clears his throat, finally having courage to investigate the eyes hidden behind my mask, "I..", he hums, searching for the words to sooth the thick tension, "I hope you are not offended, the papers are necessary for all patients, you included."

"Um hm", my voice holds the little interest I am feeling, of course I know he needs to have such information, my concern lays with the desperation he showed on retrieving such papers, as though he was scared, scared of me, I am numb to the thought, "You don't need to explain, I know."

He breathes a sigh of relief, "(Y/N)-"

"How many people does it say I've killed?", the question is so abrupt the doctor physically choked in his words, his eyes flashed in shock, then to disappointment when taking in my smiling eyes.

I gave him a shrug, my joke obviously out of taste, shame really, the CPs would have at least chuckled.

Dr. M waves away a few personnel spying in on our conversation, he rubbed at the bags under his eyes wearily, staring incoherently at the floor, "Please (y/n), I am worried about your mental health, I need to know if something is bothering you."

I chuckle, shaking my head, "Nothing is bothering me Dr. M, I just made a bad joke, sorry."

A familiar conversation, the tension is slowly dissolving, he would regularly question my wellbeing when I lived under his roof, I appreciated the concern, the distraction, and the care.

He looks away from me once again, ushering me forward to continue our walk, he takes a deep breath, releasing it into a long drown out sigh, "we both know that's not true, I know you (y/n), your a good kid, when did you stop telling me what was going through your head?"

"When I realized you could not help me", the words fell out of my mouth subconsciously, it hurt him, I can see it in his eyes, but it is true, he is incapable of fulfilling my goals, a desire I can only achieve when this farce is all over.

His voice cracks as he speaks, his jaw clenching, "(y/n), I know somethings have been hard lately, for the both of us", he seems apprehensive, guilty, "I believe that as your guardian, I have to make a decision that is best for the both of us."