My Number One (001/Henry Creel/Vecna x Reader)

Reopened Wound

He looked, for the most part, like how I had remembered...but there were some changes.

His skin was fleshy, shiny, and quite blue. It was textured, too, with vein-like lines protruding from his face, yet at the same time, below his cheekbones he was missing flesh. His forehead around his brow had changed, it was stronger, and it made him look angrier.

I was still sat on the sticky ground below him, and he was stood before me, his hands behind his back as I remembered they usually were.

"Me Ballard?" I whispered.

He said nothing, only held his hand out in front of me. I took it, and with great strength and ease, he pulled me up.

He whispered slowly, but his voice wasn't as it was before. It was deep, and loathing. "Look at me."

I did.

"Eleven did this," he whispered again, his harsh words striking me in my heart.

This wasn't where I wanted to conversation to go. More than anything, I was shocked. How was this possible? I was somewhere in another world, and Mr Ballard was here. I had seen him be sent into oblivion. But, then again, my existence, Eleven's existence, and all of the other test subjects' was possible, so why was it so shocking that this was?

I had wanted to see Mr Ballard again more than almost anything I could imagine, but I had never considered how our first conversation would play out.

My best friend had battled him, and I stood there and watched the both of them fight to the death...or so I had thought. I didn't want to admit that it was Eleven's fault he had been sent to wherever this place was, and that he now resembled a monster with his slimy, veiny, blue-tinted flesh. I wanted to defend her...but I knew that, if I did, his temper would only worsen.

I looked into his eyes now. They were cold, deep...monstrous. I was scared. "I'm sorry," I said, my voice so quiet it almost faltered to nothing. If he was capable of surviving what had happened, then what else could he do?

He stared at me for a few seconds, his expression unchanging, and I feared his reaction, but he just said, "Good," and turned around to walk away.

I breathed out finally.

He began heading up the path towards the front door of the big, strange house we were in front of. Although his presence made me too nervous to even comprehend, he couldn't leave me. I had so many questions, not just about where we were, why we were there, and how he looked so different, but still about what had happened back in the laboratory. Why did he befriend me in the first place? Why did he have powers all along, like me, but keep it a secret? Why did the other guards beat him before locking him in a cell? How did he take his Soteria device out of his own skin? And, most of all, did he really kill the other test subjects, like Eleven had said he did?

I started to walk after him. The air in this strange world was cold and misty.

The door of the house was already open, so Mr Ballard went straight inside, and I did after him.

"Why did you talk to me in the laboratory?" I squeaked. My voice was high with nerves, but I managed to get the question out. I wanted to start from the beginning. I wanted him to tell me everything, in order, that I had spent my past days wondering about, churning over in my mind, trying to think of any possible reason for it all.

He stopped walking and turned around slowly to face me again. Now, we were inside this building. It was even darker than the street outside, and just as strange and slime-ridden.

"And why do you ask?"

I opened my mouth and shook my head, shocked. Why did I ask? Why did he think? "What you did to me in the laboratory was the strangest thing I had ever experienced. I had lived the same life, the same day, over and over again. You were the only one who broke that cycle, taught me that it wasn't normal to live that way...that there was more to life. But why me? Why just me? What did I do that was different to any of these other test subjects to make you chose me?"

Mr Ballard was silent and expressionless for a long while. I didn't move, though. I kept watching him, waiting for an answer. I had to get one.

Then, he spoke. "You really can't see why you're different?"

I shook my head.

"You're different in every way. Better. Smarter..." He paused again and took a step forward before adding, "...Prettier."

That word rang a bell in my memory. Those two girls at the brothel had called me that. "Pretty?" I asked.

He took two more steps towards me, now so close, and reached his hand out, placing his palm on the side of my face. It felt so cold, and I shivered. "I like how you look," he said.

His face, his eyes, were so close to mine. I spoke in a whisper, so nervous of him seeing every movement in my face, hearing every sound in my voice. "I know what attraction means now."

He looked displeased. "I know you do."

I stared back at him, waiting for him to elaborate.

"That's why I took you here," he continued, "away from that brothel." He slid his sharp hand down my face, now onto my neck. "I can't share you."

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Thank you SO much for reading—the next chapter after this is already published!