INTO THE WOODS (Masky x reader x Hoodie)

revamped: part 3

Upon hearing that voice, she changed her mind. "Sorry, who is this?" She asked. Her voice was raw and torn. She had little energy to deal with this.
"I think you know who I am."
"I really don't think I do. Can I help you?" Her fists bawled and she the side of her tongue. There was a whispered exchange that she could not make sense of followed by silence. "Hello?" She asked.
"(Y/N), I need the tape back." She shot back quickly.
"I'm sorry but who the hell is (Y/N) and what fucking tape are you talking about?" After she fired, there was an immediate response.
"We KNOW you are (Y/N)," another voice chimed.
"I don't know who the HELL (Y/N) is," she barked. "Stop calling me!"
"Stop gaslighting us! We know where you fucking live-" She hung up the phone. She let it fall to her side and she stared at her floorboards. What the fuck was she gonna do. Some psychos are about to come to her mother's house and do God knows what, yet the only thing she could really think of was the drawings Sam made. If she somehow got more, did that prove he was here? Could she hold the drawings up to her face and ask if she'd really never seen them before?

She'd deal with the men when they came to find her, she supposed.

After all, finishing that tape, she knew they were capable of violence. Cruel, unforgiving violence.

She knew this time of night, Ms Bridges would likely be out drinking. It was a Friday evening, the air was thick and humid. She knew particularly she wasn't home because her beaten up red car was absent from the drive through of her shitty house in the suburbs. The young woman pulled up her mask and approached the door after walking up and down the block to see what was happening near her, if the car was anywhere close by, if anyone was getting into trouble..

If she never babysat her child Sam, how did she know she kept a key behind the house's light fixture?

She entered casually, wearing gloves of course. She knew the house fairly well. Upon letting herself in, she entered the dining room. In the dining room was the closet off to the side where the bathroom was adjacent, the same closet Sam used to be locked in. She opened it. The usual smell of piss and misery was left sitting in hot air. She saw nothing but claw marks she'd always seen on the door. She looked around in Ms. Bridge's room, finding nothing but twenty dollars which she promptly stuffed in her pocket. Along with a pair of earrings, a gold bracelet and some pills she found underneath her bed. She didn't know what they were for, but she'd find out.

She went to Sam's room, at the end of the hall. Entering, she saw his bed, a few toys, the same burnt blue rug. However the bed was stripped of its sheets and clothes laid on top of it like nobody's business. She searched through his clothes, old jackets, men's dress shirts, t-shirts that were too big for Sam. Finally, she came across a shirt that did belong to Sam. A beaten, bleached Super-Mario shirt. Small and sitting in ruin.

In the bathroom charcoal stained paper covered the walls and parts of the ceiling.

Psychotic ramblings unpronounceable to their full insanity. Identical to Sam's constant drawings of odd trees and cryptic messages. She stepped back, feeling a fear she'd felt before. One that told her to be ready for something bad.

She heard the locks fumble outside of the door. Quickly, she stepped inside of the bath and laid down, the curtain covering her body. She heard her stumble inside and walk past the bathroom into her room, listening to the door close shut. She was afraid to move but her body did so anyway. She stepped outside of the tub and hovered by the door. She was moving closer to leaving the bathroom when she heard the bedroom door open and footsteps inch toward her. The bathroom door opened as (Y/N) quietly hid behind it, practically holding her breath. Ms. Bridges did not fully step inside, instead rummaged through a drawer next to the door. She shut the drawer and walked off back into her room, forgetting to close the door.