His Puppet (Scaramouche x Reader)

Chapter Twelve

"Tap.... Tap... Tap..."

A faint and distant sounding tapping noise began to fill my head. I opened my eyes and was immediately confused by my surroundings. I was lying down in the middle of a dimly lit hallway and the surrounding scenery seemed eery and distorted.

There were tall towers consisting of boxes and crates lining the halls. Long dingy and mishapen corridors that were filled with the sounds of dripping water and scurrying rats. It then hit me that I was probably dreaming. This must be a lucid dream because I could move my head around and I was very aware that this was a dream.

I stood up steadily and looked down at myself. I was dressed in a simple white hospital looking gown but what was curious was the state of my hair. It was matted and covered in grime and leaves, upon closer inspection it was clear that it had not been washed in days-

I took a single step forward and the sound around me seemed to still for a second... a mere second with which this world used to watch and evaluate me. I sighed shakily and rolled my eyes, in the face of fear I usually tended to convince myself I wasn't scared... it worked sometimes atleast?

I continued down the hallway in-front of me, choosing not to diverge from this main path for the off chance I might get lost. For a dream this felt so surreal and vivid, I mean I could feel the claustrophobic musky air pushing against me... A damp moldy smell clouded my nose and burned at my senses... Even the dim lights that dotted the dark hallways caused me to shield my eyes and avert my gaze.

I mean I could even feel the cold wet concrete against my feet as I wasn't wearing shoes for some reason. . .

"Tap...Tap...Tap..."
"Listen I dont care what you have to do Childe, get it done because I'm sick of your shit."

My head perked up at the laughter that followed that annoyed but oh so familiar voice. Scaramouche! I had come to realise that I developed a weird affection and dependence on him, despite his previous wrong doings he seemed to care for me deep down... and that's more than anyone else in my life has done.

At the sound of his voice I immediately ran towards the noise, darting around this maze of hallways no longer caring for the main hallway I was sticking to. He grew louder and louder as I eventually realised the tapping was him and Childe taking a few steps every now and then.

I finally exited a hallway and looked to my left. He was there and was slowly making his way towards a door, still conversing with the loud ginger beside him. "Scaramouche!" I yelled down the hall at him, there was a hint of desperation in my voice as I was starting to get creeped out by all of this.

He turned around and looked directly at me, there was a look of bewilderment painting his face and when his eyes settled on me he seemed only more confused. "Who are you? Why are you speaking to me." When I looked at him it didn't feel like him. I realised that whatever the hell was going on in this dream, Scaramouche did not know who I was.

This was a version of Scaramouche that held no affection for me. This was not my Scaramouche. True that mine wasn't that affectionate either but I know that deep down under his cold exterior, he held a weird liking for me and the other people around him. This was a shell of the real thing and could not compare.

"I-I'm Y/N. We've met before I'm sure?" I stuttered not from nervousness but from being taken aback at the glare that he shot my way. "Oh your that girl me and Dottore hauled back from Inazuma correct?" He was so cut throat and straight to the point. "Yes!" 

I was excited that he atleast remembered me but he did not seem pleased. His eyes narrowed and his face twisted into a grimace as he raised his hand and slapped me hard across the face. I was weak in this dream as I fell to the floor immediately, looking up and noticing how Childe stared uncomfortably at the scene.