︶꒦꒷𝐂𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐫 𝐃𝐞 𝐋𝐮𝐧𝐞 ꒷꒦︶ || Wilbur X OC (UNDER EDITING)

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟏𝟗

He stared at the items in the box, thoughts running through his head. Wilbur was frustrated, he had spent his whole day cleaning up after the tracks he had left. It was too late for his locker, but it certainly wasn't too late to double-check his house.

Wilbur hadn't gotten out of the house much, he was only able to go out when his mother was home, and that wasn't very often. So he stayed home and anticipated the arrival of Toby, but Toby never showed. He wanted to think that Toby was just dangling his keys in front of him to scare him, but he couldn't just brush it off as if it was nothing. 

There was always that possibility that if Wilbur had decided to go out for once, then Toby would show up and find the box. Go figure in his situation. The box had basically everything, it had the towels, it had the glasses, it had the weapon. Nothing washed, nothing touched by anything except Wilbur himself. 

If Toby were to find this box it was over. Now, why didn't he just burn the items or just get rid of them? Wilbur couldn't bring himself to touch them. He couldn't have them washed, he couldn't let go. His conscience wouldn't let him forget, and neither would Toby.

If only he had solved the problem another way, if only his brain could stay put and not wander to all the possibilities. Wilbur's original plan was to help Tommy of course, but what he witnessed enraged him. Blood rushed through his body, the steam coming off of his forehead. He thought back to those times, the times where he wish he wouldn't have committed something so heart-wrenching.

"You and your mother are nothing! You mean nothing to me you understand?! Look at you! You were never supposed to be here, you waste of life! "

Wilbur's nerves were raw, his teeth clenched. His heart raced as the hot tears rolled down his cheeks. He felt steam. 

"Look at me when I'm speaking to you! This is why your friend left you, this is why your friend died! You were all he had and you disappointed him, you disappointed me! You were the one that should've been gone!"

Wilbur could barely hear anything, his thoughts racing back to his friend. It felt cold to think about the night his friend passed in that car crash. If only he could have saved him, maybe if he hadn't argued with him to the point where he had to go home. 

"Leave him alone!" The cries from his mother got louder, his father shoving her into the wall.

"Shut the fuck up! Was I talking to you?! Was I?!" His father's nose was basically pressed up against his mother's.

Wilbur couldn't hear his father, all he could hear was a loud ringing that pierced through his ears. He stared into his father's bag. There it was, his escape. 

He looked over to his parents, his fingers clicking on the object in his hand. Wide-eyed his father looked at his son, his son who was pointing a gun right between his eyes.

"Wilbur, drop it!" His mother sobs stopped, even though all Wilbur could hear was silence, the room was now filled with it. "Wilbur" His mother's face was adorned with bruises and tears stains. He hated seeing his mother this way, she was hurt and he had to save her. He had to save her from this danger, his father.

The room was surrounded with white with just one click, he couldn't see anything except for the look on his mother's face.

Chills went down his spine, he gave up on standing and sat down on the carpet ignoring his bed. He took a deep breath, his eyes were tired. It was memories that kept him at night, and it was the memories you could thank for the dark circles under his eyes. His anger faded away and turned into sorrows. His heart sunk, all he ever wanted to do was help.

He just wanted to help his mother, she was trapped in a dark room in a cage but he had gotten her out and now she was never here, like she never wanted to see him. And all he wanted to do was to help Tommy, to help him escape that dark shadow that followed him around. But now Tommy was angry at him, but Wilbur understood why. No, Wilbur hadn't committed his horrible actions in front of Tommy's eyes, but Tommy knew what Wilbur did. He didn't have to explain that to Tommy. 

"Wilbur no!" 

Wilbur slammed the door in Tommy's face, ignoring his friend's pleads. It was too late now, there was no going back. He took slow steps towards his victim, his head low and a frown upon his face.

"Alright, this isn't funny! Whatever fucking prank this is fucking quit it now" The boy squirmed from the restraints that held him to the hardwood chair. Wilbur continued walking towards him, except there was a grin instead of a frown this time.

"You think this is funny?! I'm gonna fucking call the police when I get out of here, then we'll see who'll be laughing!" The boy shouted, trying to break free. 

Wilbur paused his steps, looking down at the helpless boy. He tilted his head to the side as he pulled an object from his pocket. Even though Wilbur hadn't done anything with it, there was already dried red all over it. 

"It's not very nice when you leave your toys a mess George. Eventually, someone will have to clean up after you." Wilbur sighed, reaching over for the ducktape that unfortunately a helpful tool for Wilbur. 

"What the fuck- Let me go right now!" George shouted, desperate someone would hear him. "Tommy I know you're out there, help me! Please!" The boy was drowning in fear.

"Tommy? Help you? Ha!" Wilbur laughed maniacally,  ripping a piece of tape off and pressing it over George's mouth. "Now why would he help you hm?  Shame it had to be this way really, you kept leaving a mess for me to find. Now I have to clean up after you"

George's screams were muffled by the tape, sure the knife was in deep but he couldn't hold still. He didn't stop fighting till his last breath, the liquid had oozed everywhere. There was too much of it, it had covered the carpet, as well as splattered all over Wilbur's glasses. 

"Another mess for me to clean up huh?" Wilbur was done with his job, after puncturing the boy several times he was satisfied. The anger was gone, he had fixed the problem. He had helped Tommy.

What Wilbur had done satisfied him at the moment, that glorious feeling of having a problem solved. But he really hadn't helped, had he? All he had done was cause pain. His best friend was in pain, and Wilbur was the cause of it. He had killed George to take away Tommy's pain, but had he made it worse? 

Now his friend was having to help clean up the mess Wilbur had made. There was nothing Wilbur could do except sit back and hope Toby would either give up or never find out the truth. He exhaled heavily, feeling the helplessness take over. 

Unless...

Unless this whole Toby problem could be solved. Toby didn't have to find out the truth, Wilbur didn't want him to. After all Wilbur had done, Toby was going to come in and ruin everything. Toby was going to ruin his friendship with Tommy, Toby was going to ruin the relationship with the only girl he ever cared about, Toby was going to ruin him. 

But that didn't have to be the outcome, right? Certainly, there was another way Wilbur could go about this. A way where his relationships were safe and the truth could forever be a secret. If Toby wanted to ruin Wilbur, Wilbur was going to ruin Toby.