Blood Red -Danny Johnson X Reader-

Chapter 22

Henry had called me into his office the second I left the break room. He was either about to tell me I needed to write an article about what happened or tell me to go home. I don't know which one would be worse. The article could be life-threatening, just like the last one. At the same time, I would be alone at home, which could also be life-threatening.

On the way there, I made sure to look at every person's arms. Most people had long sleeves, but at least I had a lead on who Ghostface was. I tried to take a mental note on who had clear arms if they had short sleeves or rolled up sleeves. Which wasn't a lot of people.

"You wanted to see me?" I asked as I stepped into Henry's office. I slowly pushed the door closed behind me.

"Yes, sit down." Henry used his hand to gesture to the chair right in front of his desk. He was reading the newspaper, the same newspaper that had my article on the cover. I got worried the second I saw he was reading my article. Does he not like it? If I get fired today, I'm also going to get murdered.

"This is quite impressive." He started speaking. That line instantly put my worries to rest. "I just wanted to speak to you before the cops did. I just wanted to make sure you were feeling okay." He set the newspaper down on his desk, his eyes leaving it to look at me.

"Yeah, I'm doing fine." I lied, but it's not the conversation I feel comfortable having with my boss.

"I want you to write another article. Not the normal ones because I want Jed to write the news on this murder. I want you to write about your experience. Get your feelings on a page about how you heard your name was written in blood to whatever you can share with the police officers." Henry said, I took out a notepad and wrote down everything. It was easy to remember, but it was good to keep everything in check.

"Ok, I'll be sure to do that." I said as I stood up from the chair.

"I suggest you go to the front door now, I'm sure the cops are put there." Henry went right back to work, looking between the newspaper and the computer.

I left his office, making sure to close the door once I'm out. I didn't want to write like this. I came here to write like Jed, and here I am telling the world things I should only tell my therapist. It felt like some sort of mental torture that I couldn't escape. The only reason I'm alive is because of my articles. If Ghostface loses interest, it's over for me.

I did just what Henry said and went to the front desk instead of my own desk. He was correct. There were two officers standing at the desk, talking to the receptionist.

"Are you Y/N L/N?" One of the officers noticed me immediately.

"I am." I stood there with my thumbs twisting in my hands, nervous about this encounter.

"We're here to ask you a few questions." One officer walked up to me. He spoke with a stern and intimidating voice.

"Officer George!" An exciting and much more comforting voice came from behind me.

"Olsen, it's nice to see you again. Writing good stuff?" The officers voice instantly turned into a more cheerful one, completely different than how he spoke to me.

"Be nice to her, okay? This doesn't need to be hard for anybody here." Jed placed a hand on my low back as he spoke to the officer.

"Sure thing. She is a victim of Ghostface, after all." The officer looked at jed while speaking as if I wasn't standing right in between them. That was until he looked my way, "she must have been through so much."

"Now. If you could follow us." The second officer stepped into the conversation.

I did as he asked. I wasn't going to the station for questioning. I didn't have much information to tell them anyway. Instead, they brought me to the side. Out of the way of people is a good enough spot. Jed wasn't around anymore. No one really stayed nearby, which brought up some anxiety.

"Where were you last night?" They started instantly.

"I went to a smoothie place with my friend Randy and then went home." I told them the truth.

"Did you hear about the latest Ghostface attack?"

"I did, I was told about it this morning." The officers looked at me for a second before asking another question.

"What do you think about it?" The first officer said while he tilted his head to the side. He had a questionable glare at me as if I was in the wrong, even though it was a non sufficient question.

"I'm not sure. I don't know what Ghostface means. I don't know if I'm going to die soon or what's happening." I raised my voice for a second, getting incredibly frustrated at the whole situation.

"I'm not ready to die." My voice lowered to almost a whisper as it cracked. I was not and will not cry in front of police, but I came close to it today.

"You're not going to die. We can send a unit to your house to wait in the front at night. This is for your safety, and it will make sure you yourself are not a suspect."

"Wait, am I a suspect?" I looked between the two officers, waiting for an answer.

"Everyone's a suspect. Ghostface is sly. To be honest with you, ma'am, we have no idea who they are." The second officer said to me with a whisper. I don't think he sees me as a suspect, luckily.

"We'll keep in contact with you, go home right after work, and don't talk to anyone untrustworthy." The way he said that reminded me of Ghostface. He specifically said I shouldn't talk to anyone because it would be 'easier to stalk me'. Both of the officers had on long sleeves, so I couldn't see their arms.

I exchanged information with the officers, just my address and my phone number. I only hope they can keep me safe.

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