Night of Terror - Bob Velseb x Reader

CHAPTER 4 - PART 2

It takes you a moment to even realize what's happening, what he's doing and why - but the second it hits you, you scoot away once more; a red hue dusts your cheeks, yes, but his action had only furthermore struck terror into you. You prayed this was a dream - a hellish nightmare that you would wake up from sooner or later, but.. you knew it wasn't.

As he confusingly gazes down upon you, you violently shudder and turn away from him - he seems to not understand your hesitation; your fear and your worries - or perhaps he does. Perhaps he knows, perhaps he can sense your dread - but simply refuses to care. His hand outstretches to meet yours but you quickly move your wrist away; which causes him to stop mid-way through, his eyes growing wide. Was he shocked? Seriously? After.. all of this, he'd think you'd give into him? Pathetic. Really, it was - and you would've screamed at him for his obliviousness and stupidity if you weren't so afraid of what he might do to you as a result.
The bed shifts, and whilst you cannot see it, you know he's stood up - the creaking of the floorboards within the room acts as a sign for you to make out that he's approaching the door. It opens and swiftly closes again; though, luckily - unlike last time, you do not hear the jingling of keys, nor his fading footsteps - simply silence. A shaky breath releases itself from your lungs and you lean back, you weight sinking down into the mattress until your back finally collides with the wall behind you. Shutting your eyes; you try to relax - try to finally come down from all the action that you'd gone through - the countless events that you could only describe as the end of the world. Your leg burned; much like your chest and arm, the bandaging had come loose and it seemed as though the pain hadn't actually vanished like you'd assumed before. You clench your jaw and silently groan; not because of the pain, but out of frustration. 
If you'd just.. stayed upstairs, perhaps he would never have truly come towards your room - you fear that you may have brought this fate down upon yourself and that you could no longer change it, despite your best efforts.
Glancing around the room - you find it to be nearly pitch black, despite the slim ray of light shining through what you can only assume are blinds; as tattered and bashed in as they seem. Your eyes trail over the seemingly 'rotten' floor, its colorization is faded in your eyes and there's random, dark splotches scattered about - you have a slim idea of what that might be, but you don't wish to further scare yourself, so you brush it off and continue your search. Spotting a mirror and a bunch of flyers in the far back, a sudden urge to investigate and inspect overtakes you and causes you to lunge forward, carefully off the mattress and onto the wooden floor. Your footsteps are as silent as possible as you approach the edge of the room; and when you do, the first thing that enters your grasp is a flyer - more specifically, a newspaper; the only words you can make out are "The devil has come out!" , and the faded outline of a man - you could already guess who that was. The rest is shrouded in darkness and prevents you from reading anything else, so you set it aside and continue looking around. On the left you spot a crooked nail with a pair of cosmetic horns, assumably apart of your kidnapper's 'Halloween outfit'.  As you glance back at the overloaded poster; you don't really spot anything else interesting besides the small cup of paints stacked to the brim with paintbrushes. On the right, there's a hatch with various items - well, blades; ones you fail to make out. You assume they belong to the weaponry latch on the far left of the wall. 

There isn't much left for you to look at, so you turn back around - only to freeze up when the footsteps return. Alright - think fast! You can either attempt to get out again, and probably fail for the 4th time, or you can comply with whatever he has planned for you. 
You know what? Fuck it. Fourth times the charm.
Silently, you dash behind the door just as it opens and clasp both hands around your mouth to assist in keeping yourself quiet - and it's almost like you can FEEL him looking around the room; looking for you. The silence is unbearable for a few moments until you hear him grunt angrily - the door unexpectedly slams shut in mere seconds of him entering and almost makes you shriek - though you keep yourself together; only having jolted somewhat. Sighing, you quickly make your way towards the door and peeked through the crack in the frame, watching as he makes his way down a barrage of stairs and disappears down a dim hall. Was he looking for you? As he had traversed down, he seemed to speed-walking, almost as though he were nervous - anxious after he couldn't find you in the room.
'What an idiot..' , you think to yourself - because that was reality. He really was an idiot, wasn't he? You don't understand why he didn't even think of checking the room fully - there were so many blind spots when you stood at the doorway - or maybe he'd just.. assumed you'd tried to make another escape through the window. Which wasn't completely false, because you were gonna bust yourself out of this hellhole once and for all - even if you had failed so many times before. This one had to work out. And if it didn't, you would just try again if he decided to spare you once more.
Carefully snaking your hand around the doorknob, you turn it and let the door creak open and silently thud against the wall. Luckily, he had actually left and wasn't trying to trick you - like you had halfway assumed he would. You suck in a breath and step outside the room, making sure to close the door behind you in case he came back. The corridor you are in is just as horribly lit as the room you were just in - it makes you need to squint your eyes so they adjust quicker; the darkness in here was unfortunately much more intense; even when you swore you could see it lit when you had peeked through the doorframe crack.. whatever, it doesn't matter.

Your hands find themselves grasping at the wall beside you - they guide you down the corridor until you almost trip over something; though, you pull yourself backwards quick enough for you to not fall forward.. but on your ass, instead. You groan and pull yourself back up, glancing downwards to catch a glimpse of whatever just attempted to cause your downfall. Stairs.
You roll your eyes; of course, you remember seeing him go down these, how could you have forgotten about them? With a sigh, you latch your hand around the railing located just above the staircase and slowly make your way down each step, being careful as to not misplace your feet. They were quite a few, so it was somewhat difficult to keep your footing - but you managed down until the very last step; where once again, you stumbled, your knees buckled in as you misplaced your foot and forced you to stumble; your body twisted strangely and instead of landing on your face - you landed flat on your back. Your jaw clenched as the back of your head harshly collided with the surface below. It doesn't take you too long to realize how much noise that created as you jolt upwards; your heart pounds in your chest as you desperately search for somewhere to hide - somewhere to evade him if he'd heard all that ruckus you just made. A sofa comes into your view, and with quick, pattering steps, you march towards it and hide yourself behind its structured fabric. Holding your breath, you try to listen for anything else.

And that's when you can hear it.
Someone else is breathing in here with you.

(1407 words)
i was taking a giant humongous break sorry