solace [masky / hoodie x reader]

prologue

What does love feel like?

Does it feel like the whisper of a blade, gleaming under the moonlight?

Amidst the pouring rain, the deluge of water that hailed down upon your shaking form, you heard the soft crunch of the fallen autumn leaves under his feet. The usually crisp sound was muffled, the leaves likely to be drenched and muddied under the downpour, but it mattered not. You had no doubt that he could've muted the sounds of his footsteps if he so desired, and only chose not to because you weren't worth the effort. After all, you were crouched down, sunken upon the ground in a barren state, void of any hope. You only giggled in despair, pitying yourself for being in such a situation.

Does it feel like the scintilla of glowing light, sparkling from a predator's eyes?

He was nearing you, closing the distance between the two of you and you could now see the twinkle of his eyes shimmering in reflection of the moonlight. His usual olive eyes emitted an amber glow, resembling a cat's stare as he locked his gaze upon you, the helpless mouse that he was hungry to devour. You could only watch as he treaded through the open field that you were knelt down in, hoping desperately that perhaps someone would see you, but knowing you were alone. It was a vacant, remote location. Knowing that it likely wouldn't have made a difference, this man was of the same occupation as your friends. He did the same grisly work as them. You were fighting a lost duel.

Does it feel like the edges of untended rocks, cutting into tender skin?

You weren't completely paralyzed when he threw the hatchet at you, as you managed to scramble to your feet, leaping to the side before disgracefully falling to the ground. Jagged ends of broken tree branches and sharp, serrated rocks cutting into your skin, you felt the ground brutally scrape against the elbows and palms you had held out in attempt to pad your landing. You cried out in pain, uncaring as to whether he'd hear you or not, knowing that your struggle was a hopeless one. The man was playing a game of cat and mouse with you, hunter and hunted as his wrist violently twitched, twirling the other hatchet in the open air. He had missed intentionally.

Does it feel like the agony of crushed bone, shattered under someone's heel?

You only noticed that you had sprained your ankle when you made an attempt to get back up. When you managed to bring yourself to your feet, you could only limp away in a pathetic manner, rendered almost as immobile as your fear paralyzed state. You were unsure as to why you were even trying to save yourself anymore, it would be quicker to simply accept your fate and pray that he'd be merciful, that he'd be quick. The second hatchet whirled through the air, digging itself into the tender flesh of your upper thigh. Your body registered it before your mind had understood what occurred; you were on the ground, hands clutching your upper thigh, the proxy's boot on your knee. You heard it when your kneecap was dislocated, the force striking a current of electricity up through your entire leg. The adrenaline did nothing to shield you from the pain, and you screamed, feeling the entirety of the agony.

Does it feel like the end of your life, unwittingly signed away yourself?

He spun the second hatchet around with his fingers, the movement of the weapon one of a macabre ballet dance after he had picked it up from where it stood, buried into the ground next to your thigh, embellished with a gaping laceration. When he brought it up to hold it above and behind his head, the sheen of the moonlight illuminated the sharp edge of the blade, glistening with your own blood. A singular drop of scarlet fell down, dripping upon and splattering against your dirtied cheek, sticky and wet. You had no time to wonder why, you only closed your eyes as he gripped the handle tight, turning the blade around before the dull side of the tool smashed into your skull, leaving you nothing but darkness.