Dead by Daylight One Shots

Shape x Fem!Sickly!Reader

Haddonfield, Illinois, 1978

It was Halloween night. Was I doing anything for it? God, no.

Well, it wasn't that I didn't want to. I just couldn't; physically couldn't. I was pretty unwell these days. My house was also pretty unkept. I just didn't have the strength to clean it anymore. Let alone decorate it for Halloween. I spent most days alone in bed sick, but that was okay. It was better off this way. If I went out there, I would hurt myself. It didn't take very much for my blood to escape or for me to lose my breath. I was a very fragile young woman.

So you could've imagined my fright, that one Halloween night.

All was fine. Children were out and about, trick or treating on the street. They never came near my house. Not that they were scared of me or anything. I mean, they could've easily been. Some may of seen me as a bit scary. My hair was almost white, very long and dead straight. My eyes were the same, an extremely light blue that was nearly the colour of a winter wonderland. But they didn't seem to mind. No, they didn't come to my house because it looked as if nobody lived here in the first place. It wasn't my fault though. What was I going to do? Get up and clean it? Maybe a few months ago, or maybe last year. But as of now, there was no way I had the strength.

I sat in my dark living room, cuddled up on the couch. I had a movie playing on the old tv. I sat back and simply enjoyed it, trying to make myself forget about the lingering pain I always felt. But as the commercial break came on, I was a little alarmed.

"Breaking news! The masked murderer that has been nicknamed 'The Shape' by the public was spotted in Lampkin Lane at approximately seven o'clock earlier tonight. Four bodies have been found at the scene and police expect to find more. The Shape's whereabouts as of now are unknown but there is speculation that he could still be around the area. We urge the town to stay inside and assure no children are out trick or treating."

I clutched my heart and tried to calm my breathing. I lived on Lampkin Lane... I forced myself to focus back on my movie when it came back on. I breathed in and out carefully. It didn't take much for me to lose my breath, especially when I was frightened. The gentle glow of the tv illuminated my sickly face as the quiet chatter of the movie wafted through the room. My eyes felt heavy as my eyes fluttered shut. I leaned against the couch and began to drift off to sleep.

CRASH!

I gasped and shot right up in my seat.

What was that? What—what was that noise?

The loud crash came from the kitchen. My bare feet hit the floor before I carefully rose off the couch. My slim legs wobbled and shook as they tried to support my weight. I stumbled over to the doorway that lead into the kitchen. I squinted my eyes slightly, trying to peer into the dark room. I was filled with dread when a white face glowed through the darkness of the doorframe. A tall man stood there in the door, a white latex mask over his face. The bloody knife in his hand shone in the pale moonlight. A petrified shriek ripped through my throat that wracked my weak body.

The Shape.

I breathed in and out quick and hard. My frail hand went to my chest again, clutching it through the fabric of my pyjamas. The Shape shuffled through the doorframe towards me. All I could focus on was the silver glimmer of his bloody blade and that godawful emotionless mask. I stumbled back until the back of my legs hit the coffee table, causing me to loose my balance. I fell back onto the floor with a raspy squeal. The edge of the coffee table scratched my arm when I fell. Beads of blood trickled down my sickly flesh and immediately began to gush.

Oh, no...

Normally a cut or scrape like this wouldn't of been a big deal. In fact, nothing at all. The bigger problem was the masked serial killer that was currently staring me down. But I had this disease... some sort of sickness that would make my blood simply 'escape'. It was another reason why I was so sick and weak all the time. What was meant to be a minor scratch on my arm soon became an open wound that oozed thick blood. I gasped for air desperately as if I was drowning.