Priceless (Alastor X Reader)

Silhouettes

You couldn't move.

You couldn't scream.

All you could do was lay in absolute terror.

Shadows smiled down at you from the moment you opened your eyes. You had awoke when it was still dark, whatever time it was you had no idea. You assumed it was early since you could hear Alastor's footsteps coming up one of the sets of stairs.

You tried like hell to scream. To move. To make any sort of noise past breathy sounds that could barely pass as whimpers. But it seemed to be completely in vain as you were surrounded by grinning voids in the shape of humanoid silhouettes.

Tears formed and escaped your eyes as one shadow got comfortable sitting in your chest, preventing you from breathing.

You could hear Alastor's footsteps coming closer to your bedroom door. Or, at least, you hoped they were his.

As the floor boards in the outside hall seemed to creak closer and closer, you tried with all your might to break free from this state you were stuck in. Your lips quivered as you desperately tried to call out for help; almost gasping for air but unable to breathe deeply.

As the shadow on your chest leaned in you could have sworn you felt icy, frigid cold breath licking at your skin. You clenched your eyes shut in fear; and silently begged the universe for mercy. For something to save you from whatever was happening.

After what felt like an eternity but couldn't have been more than a few seconds, you managed to gain control over movement in your toes and fingers. Then your hands, and soon your whole body.

Just as soon as you realized you were able to move, you threw yourself out of bed and sucked in a gasping breath. Bumping your head on the nightstand on the way down. You felt a sordid sweet relief as you fell harshly onto the floor; but so very grateful to be rid of whatever had just plagued you. Looking back up almost franticly, you saw that the shadows had disappeared much like before.

Out of sheer reflex (and a little from the pain setting in from hitting your head), you let out a sobbing cry and your eyes begun pouring tears.

Horror novels and picture shows could not compare to whatever that just was. Similar to what happened in the bathtub the day prior, but at least then you could kick and scream if you had wanted to.

Hugging your knees to your chest, you didn't even bother to pick yourself up. You didn't care. You were scared, and you just wanted to go home...

"Why?" You cried softly. "Why?"

"Darling? Are you alright?"

You were so rattled, you could hardly form a cohesive answer. Merely forming a 'uh huh' as you sniffled and sat upright.

The sound of the lock clicking open on the door had not even been registered in your head as he opened the door. His eyes adjusting to the dim room lighting, he squinted and realized you weren't in bed; but were in fact sitting on the floor.

"What happened?" He asked, walking over and turning on the oil lamp on the nightstand next to you. Crouching down and noting the small amount of crimson that seemed to stain and stick to your hair where you got hit. A sense of concern weaving in with his confusion.

"I had a bad dream, and I rolled off the bed and hit my head." You answered. Sniffling again and looking away from him as you wiped your tears away with your thumbs.

Alastor had leaned in and observantly reached to move some of your hair aside to better examine your injury. When he did you flinched and went to swat his hand away, but he reacted fast and fastened both your wrists within his grasp. Now glowering at you.