Reverie [The Distortionist x reader]

Chapter 27

(Art by Nick-likes-toast on DeviantArt)

TRIGGER WARNING: Child abuse, sexual innuendos (not in the same scene thank our lord the moth, still a roller coaster though)

A deplorable perception of me

Was none other than an image of you

-----*-----

Chris is simply an afterthought to the day as he phantoms next to you while you walk home. You pay him no mind, not even sparing a glance.

He seems irate by this. "So you're just gonna make out with Strateira and forget all about me?" he complains.

With a huff, you begin to talk to him. "Hey, I know that I kind of led you on with my thoughts. But those were just that - thoughts. Despite me wanting to spend time with you, you should know that I'm just using you for my fun and I'm not getting invested. It's different with Stia, where she's actually a caring being..."

Christopher pauses. As you look over to him, he seems to be shaking with rage. "After all I do for you, that's how you think of me?"

"Yes," you coldly confirm. "I have not forgotten everything you did for me, and I do mean everything. Including the manipulation, gaslighting, and-"

"Okay, fine, I get it already!" he shouts with a ton of energy, letting it all out. One more breath from him and he's out of spunk, just deflated. "Is there anything I can do to gain your trust?"

"I know you can read my mind. You should know." You think very hard about what you want.

"You want... to read my mind, too?" he asks. "That's kind of impossible since you don't have a world which you can suck me into, but I can show you something that might get you to be closer to me. I know that you read about our 'kidnapping'. So let me tell you the whole story. Will you allow me to do that...?"

"...Sure."

Your vision fades again, as if it were detaching itself from your eyes, peeling away edges first.

-----*-----

Your little legs dash away from the persecutor. Oh, a game of tag! Perhaps this is little Christopher with little Annabella?

You continue sprinting until your breath runs out from your small, inefficient lungs, being robbed as if a hand had stuck itself into your alveoli and snatched it away itself. Once that happens, you start to tear up. Getting emotional over losing, huh?

But you have another plan. You hide under a tall table in the hall, one that has an unidentified photograph on top. You know this is futile since it's easy to peer between the table legs, but young Chris has no idea. You sit there, sobbing and panting.

The one who comes isn't Anna, but an older woman. His mother? The way she's yelling "Christopher" implies that she's angry. Judging by the window across from the table that you can see, no light is coming in. Perhaps it's past his bedtime and he's not wanting to go to bed.

What compiles the truth turns out to be much more sinister, as you soon realize by her glare at you when she spots you. You freeze in place. It seems like this happens a lot, and it always turns out the same way, with her stomping over to you, yelling things you still don't understand, picking you up, and...

Your vision blurs with tears as you yell and claw with unkempt nails, trying to stop what's going to happen next. But nothing happens other than your nails breaking at the beds and her slamming your head against the edge of the table with more force, screaming "Shut the fuck up!"