Night of Terror - Bob Velseb x Reader

CHAPTER 3 - PART 3

!WARNING!

Blood, Swearing, Blades

Deciding to not be idiotic for once, you immediately pick up the pace and 'sprint' into the woods; and although you wished you could run just a little bit faster, your injuries prevent you from doing so. You're running down a dirt trail covered in old, shriveled leaves, rocks and sticks - trying your best to avoid each one so you aren't dragged to your knees and caught. You haven't heard him yet, but you know he has the ability to be silent whenever he so desires; because he's done it way more times than you could count, and you doubt he was going to let you off that easy; especially if he had went through the trouble of taking you here.

Your breaths are short and jagged as you continue running down the path, and whilst you hate to admit it; you're terrified once more. This reminds you of the many chase scenes you'd seen in horror movies, the movies you'd watched with Lila occasionally on Halloween nights. You prayed this was all just a dream, and you simply fell asleep whilst watching a film with one of your best friends; that you never discovered your open window or decided to investigate the scraping noise downstairs. Because now here you were; running barefoot and covered in injuries  for your life in the woods, away from a psychotic cannibal that kidnapped you. If you told anyone about this, if you manage escape, they'd think you're mental. Not a soul would believe that you were a surviving victim of the Devil of Halloween.

You scratch your thoughts from your mind and focus on the task at hand; fleeing. You'd run so far into the woods that you could barely make out what the path was and what the severed limbs of trees were; and it seemed as though your kidnapper had given up on being silent, because he was calling out to you - somewhere not too far behind and his thundering footsteps became present again, causing your already soaked face to be drenched in more fresh tears. This was the fourth time you've tried to flee, and you know that if he got to you, you wouldn't be getting another opportunity - or perhaps he'd take your life.

Your stamina is running out. Slowly, but surely, as if you weren't going slow enough already. You were straining yourself too much - the wounds and injuries you had endured burned once more and you hissed; being so desperate to lie down and rest - but you can't. He's still behind you.

You cannot let him reach you.

Though, your determination doesn't get you far - because you eventually are met with the dreadful sight of a cliffside - a dead end; your doom. Another failed attempt at fleeing; something you were halfway expecting, but didn't desire. You clenched your jaw tightly and furrowed your brows, sorrow overtaking you - you'd been so close. You'd gotten out and fled, you'd evaded him so many times, and yet.. His footsteps are closing in on you, and for a moment you even contemplate jumping into the endless abyss below, but you simply can't bring yourself to do it, despite knowing the man rapidly approaching you might end up doing worse. So you suck in a breath and shakily spin around, your good hand still clutching your wound that seemed to have opened up and begun bleeding again. Your shirt had gotten caught from the fall by the window and was torn, displaying the injury entirely; and the bandages seemed to have been trudged away by the wind sometime earlier.

You can see his wickedly twisted smile in the shadows; his two manic-looking eyes shimmering in the depth of the shadows as he eventually slows down because he knows that he's caught you. He knows that this cat and mouse game is finished, because now there's no way out for you. Nowhere left for you to go.

You're all his.

The scream of terror that rips from your throat is unmatched; your kidnapper had gotten too close - and close enough for him to leap and tackle you to the ground; and with the barely remaining strength that you possessed, you couldn't find back in the slightest - his weight atop you was ungodly suffocating - it reminded you of before, where you were still in your house - this was like a loop, a repeat of the nightmare you'd experienced.
He was going to take you back, you knew he was. All your failed attempts to flee, all your constant cries of desperation and sorrow for him to just finish you off; to let you go and to just leave you alone had always gone unheard; much like the ones you declared at this very moment - the ones both he and you dismissed and pretended that weren't there, because they came out automatically, because of your fear. Your anger and sorrow, your remorse and regret of your actions, building up - you wanted him gone, but you were no genie - no witch and most certainly not the most courage-filled person to speak up and make him stumble on his words; not like anyone could  do that anyway. As he raises his blade above you again, your life seemingly flashes before your eyes; yes, this was a repeat. A repeat, however, that would take your life and forever doom you to hell for your sins - or perhaps there was no hell, perhaps this was actually a horrid dream; and you'd wake up when the blade struck your rapidly beating heart - or maybe those wretched cops would somehow show up; save you and arrest this god awful murderer. Maybe-

Wait a minute..

The blade never strikes. He's holding it above the middle of your ribs, and whilst you were stuck in your own thoughts, you never realized that minutes had passed; he'd been like this for minutes, his smile fading into a perplexed frown as he stares down at you, saliva sliding down the right corner of his mouth and dripping down onto what remains of your shirt. What was he doing? His breath is jagged, which doesn't come off as unfamiliar to you, but his eyes - his eyes are what catch you off guard. No longer are they crazed black, shaking and stuttering pupils - but they're a bright cyan, and are both focused on you. 
You want to speak. You want to ask and call out; know what's going on but your voice is caught in your throat and for him it is apparently the same, because every he opens his mouth to speak, nothing is thrown out - just plain silence and the breaths of a duo.

And just when you thought you'd be here forever; he speaks, the words that fluidly fall from his mouth come completely unexpected and don't exactly fit the situation, but it makes him appear as passive, which.. is better than nothing, "Darlin', I.. uh.." , Darling? Is that what he just called you? Your face contorts into nothing but pure confusion and bewilderment and a red hue covers your cheeks - or rather, your entire face lights up as red as ever; rivaling that of a hot pepper. 
There is no way he just called you that - he was just chasing you down, trying to kill you for what you believe is the fourth time now - and out of the blue, he's calling you nicknames - it's like his entire personality switched up; and it shakes you to your core, making you appear as though you've become stone. His blade is lowered down besides your head, where he then drops it and clenches his unusually large fist, "This din' really go as planned" , he finally speaks up again, causing you to perk at his words - though quickly look away once his eyes meet yours; still that strange cyan hue - although it was slowly fading back to its original color. In the blink of an eye he's lifted both himself and you off the ground, slinging you around his shoulder and leaving you to loosely hang against the fabric of his sweater (shrek reference). You don't resist; because firstly, you feel much too exhausted and weakened, and at the very moment, you were still oddly flustered by the nickname he'd given you. Maybe.. just maybe, he wouldn't horribly murder you when the two of you returned. Maybe.

(1410 words)

ohmygosh you got kidnapped AGAIN?!? no way loser