Come Into My Play Place {Ronald McDonald}

15 2 0
                                    

(Gore, Violence) kinky😏

My legs felt like they were on fire. My feet numb from the constant impact. My vision blurry from the tears that refused to stop flowing, staining my checks. I don't know how much longer I can keep this up.

My friends and I decided to go into an old abandoned McDonalds for the night, not expecting much to happen. Just hang out, mess around, the typical for teens our age. We didn't think this would happen. We didn't plan on dying tonight.

Now with my friends and boyfriend scattered around, all dead, the only thing keeping me going is the fear of what is following. The thing that has been picking my friends off one by one. Ronald McDonald.

"You can't run forever y/n, aahaahahhaha" Ronald laughed in the distance, his shoes squeaking with every step. 

I dropped to the ground out of exhaustion. I crawled over to a nearby counter in the kitchen and opened a cabinet door. I silently thanked whoever had been in this place before us because it was empty enough for me to climb in. I went in as quickly and quietly as I could, closing the door behind me.

I couldn't see a thing as I sat in the dark, trying to slow my breathing. I could hear a faint, incessant drip from inside the grungy cabinet. I felt around slowly where the noise was coming from. I jerked my hand back when I felt something warm and wet. I lifted my hand up to my nose and smelt the familiar smell of copper.

Feeling my calf I realized I had a long gash that had ripped through my pants and deep into my skin. I frantically shrugged off my boyfriend's flannel I had on over my shirt and tied it around my leg, hoping it would somewhat stop the bleeding until I make it out of this hell hole. There is no way I am dying in here tonight.

The squeak of his shoes became louder as he neared. I pawed around for anything I could use to defend myself from this freak. My hand landed on a short wood stick of some sort. Probably the handle of a broken broom.

I clutched the broken handle and I pushed myself against the back wall. Holding my breath praying that he would go by.

*squeak.. squeak,... squeak.. squeak.*

The steps stopped. I held my breath as I heard a deep inhale from the other side of the door. A faint giggle came, followed by, "You should really be more careful next time. Leading me right to where you are. It's like you're begging to die." Ronald said in a deep husky voice. 

I let out a shriek as the door was ripped off its hinges and thrown to the side. I barely had a second to register what was happening when he grabbed my feet and yanked me out pinning me to the ground.

He grabbed what was left over of the broken handle from my hand holding it up to me, "Ehuhehe, you really think this would hurt little old me" He said smirking as he tossed it aside.

He started to lean down into the side of my neck.

"Now that all your little friends are gone, you're all mine y/n."

I felt his wet tongue slide up the side of my ear before he leaned back.

Suddenly standing up, my feet in his hand, he began dragging me along the floor.

I started panicking, thinking of all the ways he could kill me.

I tried to grab things around me to slow him down, but to no use. I just laid back looking at the ceiling moving above me. Ronald stopped dragging me and instead threw me over his shoulder.

"You're being so good. Not even fighting me."

I couldn't help but blush. I know this is wrong. I have a boyfriend. Well... did I guess. I still can't help but feel guilty for liking his attention. 

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