Ashes of the Deceived. (Izuku Midoriya x reader.)

Chapter Twenty-Nine.

—First Person POV.—

I'd like to leave now. I'd very much like to leave now.

The hairs are up on the back of my neck and my teeth would chatter if I wasn't clenching them so hard.

Given the choice between fight or flight, I would choose to dive out the window— Knife in my hand or not.

Instead I turn and pivot closer to my mom, putting me in between her and the open door.

Footfalls hit the ladder, and my heart has never pounded so hard. My nostrils catch the scent of smoke.

Stand my ground, is what I think— After this is over, I might puke. Assuming, of course, that I'm still living.

The rhythm of the footsteps, the sound of whatever is coming down the ladder is driving both me and my mom steadily towards crapping our pants.

We can't be caught in this bedroom.

How I wish that weren't true, but it is. I have to make it out into the hallway and try to get us to the stairs before whatever it is blocks our escape.

I grab her hand— She shakes her head violently, but I pull her along,

Inching towards the door, the knife held our in front of us like a torch.

Izuku...

Izuku, come charging in, Izuku, come save the day..

But that's stupid. Izuku is stuck on the damn front porch, and how would that be, if I died in here, ripped to bits and chewed on like a rubber pork chop, with him standing powerless outside.

Okay. Two more deep breaths and we go into the hall.... Maybe three.

When I move I've got a clear view of the attic ladder,
and also of the thing descending it. I don't want to be seeing this.

All that training and all those ghosts; All that gut
instinct and ability goes right out the window— I'm looking at my father's killer.

I should be enraged. I should be stalking him.

Instead, I'm terrified.

His back is to me, and the ladder is far enough east of the stairs that we should be able to get there before he does, as long as we keep moving— And as long as he doesn't turn around and charge.

Why do I think these thoughts? Besides, he doesn't seem inclined to.

As we slide silently towards the staircase, he has reached the floor, and he actually pauses to put the ladder back up with a rickety shove.

At the top of the stairs, I stop, angling my mom to go down first. The figure in the hallway doesn't seem to have noticed us—he just keeps swaying back and forth with his back to me, like he's listening to some dead music.

He's wearing a dark, fitted jacket, sort of like a long suit jacket. It could be dusty black or even grey, I can't tell.

On top of his head messy grayish-blue hair of varying lengths can be seen, the longest clumps reaching to about his shoulders in uneven waves.

I can't see his face, but the skin on his hand are dull and cracked. Between his fingers, he's twisting what looks like a long and thick black snake.

I give my mom a gentle push to get her farther down the stairs.

If she can get outside to Izuku, she'll be safe. I'm getting a little tinge of bravery, just a wafting of the old (Y/n) coming back.

Then I realize I'm full of shit when he turns and looks right at me.