ninety-nine balloons (part 4 x fem!reader)

18- FEAST

Your missing posters have been up for a week now.

The rubber red skins of balloons lay scattered across streets like one massive crime scene, a once-flourishing Morioh turned ghost-town, garbage and debris waltzing in the air as waves of wind flooded between buildings and trees. How did this happen?

To know the answer to that question, we need to look back to the night before Halloween, the same night Seth's body was found in the kitchen. 

"Have you seen my shirt?" Your voice could be heard shouting from the depths of your cluttered room, what your brother liked to affectionately call 'No-Mans Land'. 

"The one for your costume? Try going through that pig-sty you call your bedroom, dumbass! It's probably home to some cockroaches by now!"

"Prick! All you had to do was say no!"

All went silent again as Seth returned to frying the vegetables he'd chopped a few moments before, throwing in some more seasoning before turning his attention to the steak one pan over. Earning a bit more money from Tonio's meant eating some better food, and with the cash that you bring in from the café, you were well on your way to become enrolled into that highschool down the street. 

Though as for now, he merely had to focus on paying the lease on the house before becoming involved with anything else.

Seth could pick up the sound of your shoes thudding down the hall sneakily, already anticipating how you might've looked. "Right, then. Let's see it."

"Alright, ok, alright, I got it... I think. It's a little messy, but It looks ok."

Turning around, he caught eye of what was supposed to be your adventurer costume; which was some heavy cargo pants held up by a belt with all sorts of extras hanging off of it, a button up stained with coffee grounds to look like dirt, and some random hat.

There was a random bottle tied around the waist with twine, so was some pins, a plastic 'artifact'.... And that mask. 

"It looks good, but are you sure you wanna take that thing out tomorrow night?" He vaguely gestured to the stone mask, almost scowling at it. "It looks pretty heavy. And very breakable."

"Oh, I'm sure It'll be fine! After all, I'm just wearing it for the night, and it's secure with those heavy duty clips too."

"Fine then, if you say so. If you have a second, would you mind cutting up some of this sausage for me so I can add it to our food?"

"Oh, definitely! Let me go change really quick so nothing gets ruined.."

Within a couple minutes, you were back in some comfortable pjs and helping out in the kitchen, Seth having to take a moment to step outside to rest. You pretend not to notice the cigarette pack he shoves into his pocket on the way out.

With a dull knife, you struggled to cut through the skin of the meat that'd been layed out, having to throw some of your weight onto the handle to at least cut a single slice. Doing it over and over again, the sausage was soon finished being prepared, save for a couple inches left to sever.

However, on what would be your third to last cut, you'd found yourself a bit too hasty, and as a result, slit the center of your finger. It definitely stung a bit too much for comfort, the grease from the meat and the popping oil from the nearby pan only adding onto the pain.

Hissing in discomfort, you rushed to run your finger under some water, tossing our what remained of the sausage you'd been cutting as it had been soiled with your blood. 

"Christ, of course this happens... Shit, and it's deep, too." 

Water didn't seem to be much help, and with you fresh out of bandages thanks to Seth always ending up in one accident or another, a paper towel was all that you were able to work with.

It'll close up soon, you tell yourself, though it was as good as any lie. You'd need to wrap it in some sort of gauze to let it heal correctly, so you might as well have a massive scar on your index finger now.

Then, your brother appeared back in the house, almost as if he'd never stepped out to begin with, and took the kitchen back over again quietly, giving you time to run to your room and put away your costume.

However, as you were doing so, a thought crossed your mind.

"I wonder if I can make my costume more realistic by putting some of my blood on it?"

It was only a few drops here and there, maybe a smear along this place and that, but boy did it hurt. 

Not much more, you promised yourself, all that was left to 'decorate' was the mask. Leaning on the more realistic side, as just throwing blood wherever would look ridiculous, you placed the strange mask unto your face and fit it on properly, checking to see where blood might splatter if someone, or something, might somehow combust before you. 

Ah, along the cheek! Yes, there, and a bit across the mouth, maybe some beneath the eye... 

As though teeming with newfound life, the mask began to tremble in your hands, though you brushed it off as your own shaking from both the cold of your room, and the sudden loss of blood.

It became more violent, however, now nearly jumping from your grasp, with you rushing to catch it curiously in hopes of not dropping it, fearful it'd shatter. And then, all at once, it stopped, and you drew your face near once again to inspect, though not so close that it might be entirely fitted against your skin again. 

That was when it happened.

Claws dug into your cheeks and raked against your temple, piercing your jaw and puncturing your scalp all at once. A scream ripped through your throat as you fought to rip it off your face, the struggle only making it easier for it to settle into your skin and bone. 

Slowly, your world was swallowed by an endless black, the last thing that could be seen before you fell into unconsciousness being Seth running into your room.

And that's how it all started, more or less. You stare into the reflection of the mirror in some random, abandoned house, and run through the story over and over again, with the ending always leaving you with questions. 

You don't want to have nails sharp enough to cut through steel, you don't want violent wine red eyes that leave you shuddering under your own gaze, you don't want cold, lifeless skin and fangs as fine as needles. 

And you most certainly don't want to be found out by Okuyasu and everyone else.

"Are you feeling any better, (Y/n)?"

...That's excluding Hazamada. Why? Because despite the risk of whatever you might pull, he still decided to care for you.

After all, he was the only one that truly saw what happened that night.

--------

last update was in September

its now December

i have nothing to say for myself 

except that imma do it again🏃‍♀️