solace [masky / hoodie x reader]

ix

You were screaming.

You were screaming—a shrill, piercing, bloodcurdling scream. You knew you had been warned against it; you didn't care. You didn't care if it angered him, you didn't care what happened after, you didn't care because you knew you had no choice but to scream.

—

It all began with your awakening. You were supposed to wake up in Hoodie's presence, and you had been greatly looking forward to it. The past few days were nothing short of endless torment for you. Masky had brought the switchblade out on numerous occasions, and the t-shirt Hoodie had left you with was in tatters, stiff and hardened in all the areas where blood had seeped into the fabric, clotting and clumping in there. Masky hadn't been generous enough to grant you a change of clothes, not that it had surprised you in the slightest. You had even slept on the floor the second night, the result of your refusal to beg for permission to be on the bed. You had been so fatigued the next day, the only thing that had kept you awake being the sharp pain that shot through your veins. The same night, you had caved in, getting on your knees, and pleading to be allowed to sleep on the bed.

You held on, counting down the hours until you'd see Hoodie again.

But he never came.

Instead, you woke up and saw Masky, who was already awake and typing on his laptop, like he always was when he wasn't busy assaulting you.

Hearing the sound of the bed rustling, he turned towards you, noticing that you were now awake.

"Good morning, princess. Seems like you slept well, the bed's sure cozy, huh?" he snickered, and you scowled at him.

"Where's Hoodie?" you asked, getting straight to the point. Masky laughed in response to your query, scorn evident in his voice.

"Already looking for Prince Charming?" he asked, sarcasm practically dripping from his words, causing you to shoot a glare at him, although you still kept quiet.

"What a shame he's not here." Masky responded curtly. "Guess he doesn't care that much about you after all." You wanted so badly to disagree with him, but you held your tongue. However, it wasn't because you were afraid of him—which you undoubtedly were—but more so because you weren't confident that he was even wrong. It was highly probable that Hoodie didn't genuinely care about you and was just being courteous. No, that was definitely the case here. It wasn't like he had any reason to care about you.

Your lack of response only urged Masky to continue speaking.

"Cat got your tongue, princess?" he continued to taunt you. "Aw, did you think you were special?" Masky cackled as if the mere notion of that was unfathomable to him.

"Did you think you actually mattered to him? You've got shit for brains, sunshine." Your cheeks were flushed red with anger, but he paid it no mind as he continued to belittle you. "I'm going to be real with you, sweetheart. He probably got bored of having to babysit you. Either that, or your pretty face just doesn't interest him anymore."

As if that wasn't enough, to add insult to injury, he then followed up his sentence with, "Knowing him, he's not coming back. Face it, princess. He's abandoned y—"

"Shut up!" you snapped, raising your voice for the very first time since your capture. You instantly realized what you had done, and clamped your mouth shut, praying that it wasn't too late. Praying that you hadn't just fucked up your only chances of survival.

You watched intently as Masky reached into his pocket, taking out a pack of cigarettes as well as a lighter. He flipped the lighter cap off, and lifting his mask slightly, he placed one of the cigarettes in between his lips, inhaling slowly as he lit his cigarette. He usually smoked out of the window, more likely out of habit rather than courtesy. He exhaled, the odor of cigarette smoke beginning to fill the room, causing you to grimace.