Shazam Imagines And Oneshots

Freddy x Reader Part two

Not me forgetting to update part two -_-

Well, I finally remembered. This is part two of the kidnapping chapter.

(If you have no clue what I'm talking about, head back and read the first part)

Love ya! Enjoy!

"Where could he be?"

That was a question Billy had been hearing a lot the past hour. And, unfortunately, he didn't have an answer.

"Freddy wouldn't run away, right?"

Billy scowled at his siblings talk. Of course Freddy wouldn't run away. Of course not.

Still, the possibility hung over his head like an out of reach answer.

What if he had run?

What if he had hated his life, and Billy was just too stupid to notice?

The thought darkened his mood even more, if that was possible, and he forced it out of his mind. No, Freddy wouldn't do that. He wouldn't leave without a goodbye.

. . . Right?

"This is stupid," he said, scowling. Everyone turned to look at him, but he just glared right back. "We all know Freddy would never leave, at least not without a goodbye. Eugene, you can hack. So do it. Track his phone."

Eugene looked stunned. "I'm so stupid," he muttered to himself. "Why didn't I think of that?"

He quickly ran to the computer and whipped it open. He typed for a few moments, and everyone waited anxiously.

Finally, he said, somewhat confusedly, "He's at an abandoned wearhouse?"

Billy froze, terror slowly crawling over him. "Which one?"

"The one on Greyhound Street."

His heart stalled to a stop. "He's been kidnapped," he whispered.

"What?" Mary exclaimed, covering her mouth with her hand.

"How do you know?" Darla asked. She was crying, tears streaming down her face.

Billy simply shook his head. He wasn't going to explain. He wasn't going to relive horrors he spent forever forgetting. But he was going to act.

"Let's go," he ordered. "We're going to get them."

*not me switching povs just a few paragraphs in T-T*

It was dark.

That was the only thing that would register in Freddy's mind.

The blackness pierced into his brain and stayed there, twisting and shoving and hurting.

What happened?

He didn't remember much. Just . . . two people blocking his path home.

Taking his crutch.

Taking him.

Panic burned his throat as he tried to sit up, but something was holding him down. His left wrist flared in pain, and he slowly recalled how he had hurt it.

His leg wasn't feeling much better, if he was honest, which he was. A pulsing, steady pain erupted whenever he tried to move it, so he let it lay where it was, pounding and hurting.

His mind felt clouded and thick, like a heavy fog had settled in, and it was hard to think. Still, he knew he should feel scared and shocked and panicked.

He knew he had been kidnapped.

"My, oh my," a voice purred softly, and Freddy winced against it. "The almighty hero, reduced to a painful mess."