Night of Terror - Bob Velseb x Reader

CHAPTER 2 - CHASE OF DREAD

!WARNING!

Swearing, Blades

Your eyes slammed open not even thirty minutes later at the sound of scraping downstairs. Your heart immediately picked up pace; and you remained still in your bed for a moment, unsure of what to do - or if you should do anything at all. You suck in a breath and swing your legs over the side of your bed, gripping your phone that had been placed beside you previously. It was too dark for you to adjust your eyes, so you flip on your flashlight and shine it towards your doorway - that.. was now open as well. You gulp and begin approaching it, slightly leaning outside to get a clear view of the outside corridor. Pitch black. It gave you eerie chills that crawled up and down your spine - the hairs on the back of your neck arose; and the sound of scraping downstairs never seemed to have stopped. It was ear-piercingly loud, no wonder it'd woken you. You slowly, and sluggishly, walk down your hallway and approach your staircase - the sound had stopped, leaving you to drown out in horrid silence that made you want to screech in terror. You tried not to move too much - to avoid making noise, but your floorboards were so creaky, its like they couldn't resist - one of them protested beneath your weight and left you jumping about a foot in the air in surprise, because immediately after, you heard excessively loud shifting and heavy footsteps that came to an abrupt stop somewhere in the living room. Now you knew it; someone was inside your house, and they didn't seem like they were trying to hide it.

You hold your breath, the grip on your phone becoming so strong that your knuckles begin to pale; your eyes are as wide as ever - and you seem to be slightly shaking , "O-oh my god.." , your voice is barely a whisper as you silently retreat back into the depths of the upstairs corridor - but you don't enter your room. Instead, you open the door across from it; a storage room. Perhaps you could find something to defend yourself with; or call the police. You swiftly and silently open the storage door and spin back around to shut it behind you, flicking off its automatic sensory light; crouching down and trying your best to remain fairly calm.

You pull out your phone and unlock it - pressing on "emergency calls" , you quickly input the numbers '911'  - it rings for a few seconds, causing you to grow slightly impatient, when another voice on the other side of the phone lures your attention, "911, What is your emergency?" , you don't hesitate, "Y-yes, hello, I believe someone just broke into my house. I heard footsteps downstairs a-and I don't know what to do ", you're shaking, even more intensely than before - your hands can barely even grip the phone properly anymore. Sure, you might be overreacting - much like you had told yourself before, but now this was serious. You had a reason to be afraid.

"Alright, I'm going to need you to stay calm, alright? Help will arrive soon. What's your name?" , the voice on the other side of the line questions you, their voice too calm for what's currently going on; but you can understand why - they don't need to make more of a hassle than already is, "Y/N L/N. I'm 24 years old." , you respond hastily, just wanting to get this over with - to be safe; even if you knew your safety wouldn't come immediately.. and wasn't exactly guaranteed. "Alright. Where in the house are you right now?" , they speak again, voice entirely monotone, " I-I'm in a storage room across from my bedroom, upstairs." , again, your hasty response is given and the voice on the phone gives a hum of approval, "Okay, I need you to stay on the line for me. Can you do that-" , the phone suddenly cuts off, and your eyes go wide the moment it does. Your immediate instinct is to check the battery; which turned out to be.. empty?! You want to scream - you hadn't given him your location. What the hell were you going to do now?

Your breath hitches suddenly as thundering, heavy footsteps cause your floorboards outside of the storage room to creak and squeal, and you dismiss your phone situation to look up through the little slits of the storage room door, even if all they did was display eerie darkness that. They start off slow, marching down the hall and stopping in front of a door next to your bedroom. You furrow your brows and cover your mouth; tears beginning to dwell in the corners of your eyes. Whoever they were, they opened the door, leaving it to thud against the wall inside before they entered. You could tell by the way they stopped every now and then, that they were looking for something; and you just happened to know what that something was.

A few minutes later, the footsteps return; getting louder and signing that they had left the room. They advance in your direction; nearly coming to a halt in front of the storage room, but you hear them turn around and open your bedroom door; hearing them grunt as they enter - almost as if they were annoyed with something. Then the switch in you room flips on; and your eyes widen even more. They were tall; scarily tall - drowned over in a crimson color; you could see horns, but didn't seem to know if they were real or not. Perhaps they were dressed up for Halloween? Clutched in their right hand was a blade that shimmered in the dim light of your bedroom room- tainted with a fluid crimson of which you could already guess what it was, and you could just barely see your petrified expression in it through the cracks of the door. 

Their gaze shifts to your bed; staring at it for just a few moments before their hand hovers over the light switch again. As its flipped off, you don't hear them leave - you don't even hear the uneven breaths they let out anymore.. just silence. All you can hear is your heartbeat pounding against your chest and screaming at you to just run, but you're too afraid of being caught.

Creak.

You can hear your floorboards protest yet again; but you can't decipher anyone's footsteps or breaths; you can't see, you're trapped, and your escape routes in this small room are limited. The tears in your eyes begin to overflow when the silence goes on for minutes, that for you, carry the feeling of hours.

Creak.

You want to leave. You wished you'd gone with Lila, or gone trick-or-treating with Skid and perhaps had a sleepover or something. Anything but this. You wanted to see your friends; your family - you didn't want to die. You couldn't.. you'd just barely managed thus far.

Silence.

Silence overtakes the entire house again and you shiver; cold chills running all across you as you beg for a miracle; that the police somehow managed to track your identification and location despite the minimal information you provided; and the lack you had input in your phone.

Then, suddenly, the two doors slam open and you scream so loudly that your ear drums almost burst; but the figure before you doesn't budge. Atop his face is an everlasting, knowing grin - and eyes wider than yours. He stares down at you, blade tightly gripped in his free hand, and as he goes to bring it down upon you, you made a run for it - sliding beneath him and dashing down the corridor, just barely avoiding tripping down the stairs. But it doesn't end there, because he's right behind you, his thundering steps indicating that he was catching up. You run down the stairs and make a B-line for the kitchen in hopes to grab a weapon, only to find that all your knives were gone. You desperately open some of your drawers - but no luck. It's all gone.

You hear him finally catch up behind you, stopping right in front of the entrance to your small kitchen - you look around.. shit. You're trapped. He's too quick for you to try and vault over one of the counters, and you have nowhere else to go. You stare back at him as he slowly advances towards you, and your knees finally give out. Your fear has overtaken you and you cry out, pleading him to leave you be - to let you go and that'd you'd not tell a singular soul, but he doesn't buy it.

Unfortunately for him, he had advanced so far that you'd have enough room to make another run for it. Were you going to? Absolutely, you aren't dying a coward. You let him take another few steps before you quickly lift to your feet and dash by him so quickly that - no. No, you don't. Something harshly snags your wrist and you're pulled from your feet, lifted into the air and forced to face none other than the devil-faced murderer. He squeezes your wrist harshly, and you swear you can see his smile grow.

He tilts his head at you, eyelids drooping slightly; "Tender.." , he continues to squeeze your wrist a couple more times, his other hand fumbling around with his blood-stained blade. His voice is deep and somewhat hoarse; causing you to shiver, "P-please.." , You finally managed to recognize him from the many wanted posters plastered across your street. Bob Velseb; a cannibal and the source of many murders across each Halloween. Tears stream down your face as you intake all of the possibilities, but- perhaps, just maybe, you could catch him off guard once more.

You inhale deeply and reel your head back, to which his smile slightly fades and he stares at you, confused. You headbutt him with all your force, causing him to lightly stumble and release you. You waste no time; you run out of the kitchen and dash for the basement door that resided behind your sofa, slamming it shut behind you and making sure to lock it. You clatter down the stairs, still at full speed and collapse in a corner, still shaking from you most recent encounter. You need to find a way to get out of here; and soon.

(1744 words)