CHAPTER 3 - UNFAMILIAR

5.4K 129 226
                                    

Your eyes slowly crack open, and while your first instinct it to stand up and inspect your surroundings; you struggle and hiss, a fiery pain in your chest causing you to lower yourself back onto whatever structure you were laying on. You furrow your brows and lift your shirt, seeing red stained bandages poorly wrapped around your chest; and as you check your palm, you notice it's been aided as well. You squint your eyes and try to find any possible outcome that would make sense; and lead to whatever was currently happening, but you can't find a singular one. The police never came, and you swore that you were murdered in your living room. You glance around; you were in a room you didn't recognize, or perhaps it was just one of your unused rooms, shrouded in darkness. You force yourself into a sitting position and scoot up against the head of what you can only assume is a bed, and try to flex your palm a bit more; noticing that you were unable to close it. Sighing, you stare up at the ceiling, neatly folding both of your hands across your stomach; perhaps an answer will come with time.

----------------------------------------------------------------------

TIMESKIP: 3:34AM

It's been about an hour, but you finally hear something outside of the room. Footsteps; familiar footsteps. In a panic, you raise the covers above your head; despite your pained struggle to even move properly, and hide beneath them, trying to make it appear as though you'd vanished. The door squeaks open and you immediately rush to clamp both hands around your mouth as to remain silent. You hear nothing for a moment; just jagged breathing until finally, you can hear him move throughout the room - directly towards the bed. Yes, this wasn't the best hiding spot, and you've probably doomed yourself, but you were under pressure and it had been the only option that you could think of. The bed creaks and sinks somewhere below your feet; he's sat down and you can tell he's watching you. He knows, but that wasn't unexpected.

A hand roughly grips the sheets and yanks them from above you; and you cry out in fear - your voice is hoarse and your throat throbs painfully as you do, so you quickly silence yourself. With all the strength within you, you back up even further and scoot up against the head of the bed like you had before; although this time it'd been unintended. You gaze over him, immediately taking note of how his smile no longer seemed.. chaotic; instead, he seemed pretty neutral - his eyes hung half way over his eyes and his erratic breaths never once became audible as much as they were before; and he didn't budge either - not a muscle. He was inspecting you like you were some ancient artifact and it creeped you out. You wanted to tell him to stop; to leave, to let you rot in this dark, unfamiliar room - which you would have preferred over this, for obvious reasons. But you don't, you're scared and he can tell by the look on your face.

"That wasn't very smart, you know." , his voice catches you off guard, you let out a small shriek and almost hop from your position - it's hoarse and extremely deep, sending icy chills up and down your back, "I could already see you beneath the covers the moment I entered the room." , his smile slightly widens as he speaks to you, but you don't respond; instead, you suck in a breath and grip whatever's beside you, which just so happened to be an old, dusty pillow; with a decent amount of struggle, you manage to lift it in front of yourself and position it towards him threateningly. Stupid, yes, but there was literally nothing else in this room.

He chuckles and runs a hand over his face, "What are you gonna do?" , he begins, his smile growing wider, "Challenge me to a pillow fight?" , a scowl sprawls across your face as he mocks you with a knowing grin - but you know that if you hit him it probably won't do much. You furrow your brows and huff, placing the pillow back aside and then facing to glare at him with angry, glossy eyes, "I-if you're gonna kill me then just get it over with already. I don't wanna have to sit here with you " , the moment you say that - his smile seems to droop slightly; and although it still resides, you can tell he's upset - for a reason you cannot decipher. He's silent for a few moments, leaving you to drown out in your thoughts until he eventually stands and the bed shifts downwards. You watch him leave the room, slamming the door excessively hard - and then you hear the jingling of keys. He's locking you in here.

Was this even your house?

(824 words) /sorry for the short chap, im running out of ideas

Night of Terror - Bob Velseb x ReaderWhere stories live. Discover now