(GN = Gender Neutral incase you're not aware <3)
Your name was (Y/N) (L/N). You were a journalist living in Roseville where you most of the time reported on a flashy masked killer, often recognized as 'The Ghostface'. You lived a normal life, you ate 3 meals a day, slept for 8 hours, paid taxes, and no-one had any reason whatsoever to take a second glance at you. But how would you ever know that for sure?
On the morning of June 18, 1993, you found yourself in your living room, eating lucky charms whilst reading the section of the newspaper with the article you wrote about 'The Ghostface' around a week ago. Known as a psychopathic killer who favored stalking their victims before brutally murdering them as if there were an actual reason, you'd have no reason to just stop, right? Especially if you...enjoy it and there's no known leads, right? Well, according to your sources, yes. Yes there is.
You let out a sigh as you finished reading the recently published article. The only thing on your mind was getting another 5 minutes of sleep even though you knew that wasn't an option. Putting on casual footwear, you got up and unlocked your front door. Then, you attempted to step out of your house. Key word, 'attempted'. Your ears were met to the sound of dead leaves crunching under the weight of your foot rather than the sound of concrete.
A shiver ran through your body, the temperature dropping at least 15 degrees. When you opened your eyes and took a good look around, you found yourself at the end of a sidewalk, and instead of the street ending normally, there was 9 foot tall brick wall. But was now really the time for needless observations like that? Looking behind you, the place you ended up looked like a neighborhood. The thought came to you naturally as if you knew this place well, this is Lampkin Lane.
Your thoughts were interrupted as you heard a woman shrieking in the distance. You thought you were having a fever dream of sorts...but this? It felt real. You tried to pinch yourself on your cheek but to no avail, was this reality? Next to a lamp post laid what looked like a generator. You felt an overwhelming desire to repair it but was now really the time to be experimental?
Your observations were once again interrupted by a sweet and short sound playing as you saw a circle with the aura of a generator inside appear, but just as quickly as it came, it disappeared in thin air. Following the chain of extraordinary events, you then heard a female voice scream in agony followed by a red aura appearing a long distance away. You didn't consider it before, but, were you in danger?
Suddenly, the sound of a twig snapping came from behind you. Startled, you turned around and you were met with a kind looking face. There stood a brown woman with glasses, navy blue pants and a dull pink button up. "H-Hello? Who are you? Where am I?" you said, unaware of the fact you were bombarding this woman with questions. "My names Claudette Morel, I'm a survivor here, and you, need to follow me so that the killer doesn't find us!" Spoke Claudette with a anxious tone. Taking her advice, you followed her into the basement of a house with another one of those generator looking things.
"So let me give you a little run down of things here," she spoke with uncertainty at first. "first off, there are 4 survivors and 1 killer. In a trial, which we are in right now, we must repair 5 generators to power an exit gate in order to escape." said Claudette with a concerningly casual tone. Your head was flooded with lots of information in a matter of what? 8 seconds? There were killers? We had to evade them to... escape? But nothing could be that easy here. You had a feeling.
Giving into that strong desire from earlier, you and Claudette worked on the uncompleted generator. Oddly enough, your hands seemed to know what they were doing on their own, connecting wires and putting in parts seemed easier than you've ever known it to be. Which you didn't, but ignoring that you and Claudette made small talk. "So you're a new survivor here huh? That must mean that there's a new killer.....do you by any chance know or relate to any killer in your life before this?" Claudette said in a careful small voice as if the generator was not almost 3 times louder than her. "Well, I was a journalist in this place called Roseville....there was the occasional murder and all but I don't think that matters now.." you spoke. "Well, shoot. That's a shame...well not really, but still. Always nice to have the extra info!" She spoke with a small smile.
YOU ARE READING
𝙳𝚎𝚊𝚍 𝚋𝚢 𝙳𝚊𝚢𝚕𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝙾𝚗𝚎 𝚂𝚑𝚘𝚝𝚜
Fanfiction"I felt like crying but nothing came out. It was just a sort of sad sickness, sick sad, when you can't feel any worse. I think you know it. I think everybody knows it now and then. But I think I have known it pretty often, too often." This'll b...
