Unknown Territory [Creepypasta Reader-Insert]

| F i v e |

[05:48]

Bracing herself, she forced down the fear of failing her one and only chance at escaping down to the darkest depths of her consciousness.

However, her concentration was broken by the sound of another person walking close to their location, occasionally seeming to halt, only to continue again.

"Eyo!" Crack. "Hoody! What the fuck—FUCK OFF—" Crack. "—happened to the hall?! I almost stepped on a broken vase!"

Her eyes widened slightly at the sounds that emitted from the newcomer as his talking seemed to constantly be interrupted by what she could only assume were the sound of joints cracking, as well as odd exclamations of a certain form of 'figure-of-speech'.

But she did nothing more and continued to listen in on them, hoping that the newcomer would draw her pursuer's attention away from where she hid.

The man didn't respond immediately, but she was terrifyingly close enough to him to hear the faint exasperated sigh that he let out.

"...I see that you're back late...as usual." He pointed out tiredly.

She heard some shuffling and assumed that he turned to face the other, oddly familiar, jovial voice that questioned him regarding the state of the hall.

"Hey!" CRACK! Crack. "You don't exactly have the right to tell me that when you're—" Whistle. Crack. "—on your third strike for bashing that guy's skull in unnecessarily! Do you know the shi—SHITSTORM FIDDLE GIGGLES—" Crack. "—I had to go through to cover up for your ass?"

Bashing a skull in...? A fucking skull?!

She felt herself involuntarily shiver at the gruesome image it painted in her head, now feeling more eager to get away after hearing just what he could do.

"If he'd kept his nose in his own damn business, he wouldn't have had to die." Hoody, as she now knows he's called, defended.

"There are—" Whistle. Hiccup. Crack. "—other ways to take care of people like him you know—NO WAIT!" CRACK! Giggle. Crack. "YOU SHOULD KNOW! You and Mask—"

"Jesus fucking Christ, Toby, tone it the fuck down!" Hoody finally exclaimed. "Your tics are worse than usual today, fuck!"

A tense silence loomed after.

Though she couldn't see either of them, she felt the tension in full force as the quiet was only ever interrupted by the other person's popping joints and involuntary grunts.

"You—" Crack. "—know damn well—" CRACK! CRACK! Crack. "—that I can't control it." The jovial and lighthearted tone left his voice, and it sounded much more terrifying than the other two she's encountered.

If she wasn't so afraid of everyone in this place, she may actually find herself feeling sorry for the guy. It wasn't even that bad. The whistling was somewhat cute.

Frowning at herself for finding such a thing cute, of all the damn adjectives she could've used in such a dark time, she couldn't help but wonder if she herself was beginning to lose her sanity.

Shifting movement pulled her from her thoughts, as she tensed up once more, hoping it wasn't the Hoody guy attempting to resume his earlier intentions of opening the door.

"Whatever." He gruffly brushed off. "What the fuck are you even doing here?"

Crack! "The Operator—" Crack. "—wants to see you."