hobo heart x reader. Perhaps we value each other?

Chapter 16

The air inside Slender Man's office was suffocating, thick with the stench of old paper and copper. Ben had dumped Marcy and me at the threshold before vanishing into the shadows of the mansion to attend to his other assignments. Marcy dropped into the empty chair next to Hobo Heart. I took the seat beside her, my muscles rigid.

From behind the massive, immaculately organized desk, Slender Man turned his featureless face toward us. When he spoke, there was no sound—just a perfectly calm, resonant, and chillingly clear voice echoing directly inside our skulls.

"Now that you are finally present, we can address our agenda. First on the docket is the matter of Molly's missing heart."

With fluid, deliberate precision, he reached beneath his seat, pulled out a plastic cooler, and placed it exactly in the center of the desk.

"Molly, the options are straightforward. We can arrange for a medical professional to surgically re-insert the organ into your chest cavity. Alternatively, we can secure the asset in permanent storage."

"Give it to Hobo Heart," I said. My voice didn't waver.

The words cut through the room like a razor. Marcy bolted upright, her knuckles turning white on her armrests. "What the hell?! Why would you hand it over to him? Of all the monsters in this place?"

"Yeah," Hobo Heart muttered, shifting his weight. His face darkened, confusion twisting his scarred features. "I'm with Marcy on this one. Why the fuck me?"

Slender Man did not react to the outbursts. He merely tilted his head slightly, maintaining an aura of absolute corporate detachment as he waited for my justification.

I looked at them, letting out a sharp, bitter breath. "Because he actually needs a heart. He'd value the damn thing. I clearly didn't want it since I ripped it out of my own ribs." I glanced sideways at Hobo, my eyes narrowing. "Besides, I owe him for dragging me out of that house. Thanks to him, I'm not trapped in an abusive graveyard anymore. I'm finally somewhere I belong. For once, I'm not miserable."

"I... uh... lucky you," Hobo Heart spat out, completely thrown off balance.

Marcy gripped my wrist, her fingers digging in tightly. "Molly, shut up and think for a second. This isn't a joke. You don't just hand over your fucking heart."

"I know exactly what it is." I snapped my wrist out of her grip and tilted my head toward Hobo. "That's why he gets it. He understands its price better than anyone."

I stood up, the chair legs screeching against the floorboards, and walked over to the massive bookshelf against the wall. I stared at the dark spines, refusing to look at them. "I don't value myself enough to keep that... thing inside me. I don't deserve it. Having a heart is a sickening, terrifying weakness. It forces you to feel agony on a physical level, and I refuse to let it ruin me right now."

I turned back to Marcy, my chest feeling hollow and cold. "When it was back inside me—even for a few minutes—everything I spent a lifetime burying came flooding back. It choked me. It drowned me. The sheer, unadulterated torment of those few moments... I could only think of one bastard in this house twisted enough to handle that kind of pain."

Marcy's expression fractured. She looked down at the floorboards, a dark shadow of memory crossing her eyes. She knew. She knew the horrific things my adoptive parents had done to me when the doors were locked.

Hobo Heart didn't speak. He just stared at the plastic cooler.

In the dead silence that followed, a sickeningly clear, rhythmic sound echoed from inside the box. Thump-thump. Thump-thump. It sounded pathetic.

Slender Man finally broke the quiet, his telepathic voice smooth, formal, and entirely devoid of emotion. "The transfer of ownership is highly unconventional, but it remains your prerogative. If this is your final decision, the transaction is approved. Hobo Heart, you will assume full custody of the asset until further notice."

The entity gave a brief, efficient nod.

Hobo didn't hesitate. He yanked up his hoodie, exposing the crude, black twine stitched across his chest. With a sickening rip, he tore open the flap of gray skin, exposing the dark, empty cavity inside. He reached into the cooler, his fingers sinking into my wet, beating heart. He lifted it out and shoved it deep into his chest.

Immediately, the magic went to work. Black, necrotic veins shot out like parasitic vines, burrowing into his dead tissue and fusing the organ into place. It fit perfectly, like a missing piece of a puzzle. Hobo winced violently, his jaw locking and his eyes widening as the raw pain of the connection hit him, before he let out a low, ragged growl and laced his chest back up.

"The matter is resolved," Slender Man stated flatly, picking up a fountain pen and pulling a ledger toward him. "You are dismissed. Return to your designated quarters."

We filed out of the office, the heavy door clicking shut behind us with absolute finality. We stood in the dimly lit corridor, the air freezing.

"I'll be in my room," I muttered, breaking the silence.

Hobo Heart shoved his hands into his pockets, completely ignoring the murderous glare Marcy was drilling into the side of his head. "Mind if I come? I need to ask you some things. Figured you'd rather talk without an audience."

I shrugged, my tone deadpan. "Whatever. You'll just come scratching at my door later anyway."

Marcy grabbed my shoulder, her grip fierce and protective. "Don't tell him a damn thing you don't want to. If he touches you, call for me and I'll kill him."

I nodded, turning down the dark hallway with Hobo trailing a step behind me like a shadow. Marcy walked the other way, disappearing into the mansion's gloom.

Inside my bedroom, I dropped onto the edge of the mattress and crossed my arms, staring him down. "What do you want?"

Hobo hovered in the doorway for a second before dragging my desk chair over. He spun it around, sitting backwards, his chin resting on his crossed arms. "Look," he started, his voice dropping an octave. "It's about your past."

I leaned back on my hands, a cold smirk touching my lips. "Oh. What do you want to know? Let me guess, you figured out my life wasn't exactly a fairytale."

"No, it's worse than that." He looked at me, his dark eyes dead and serious. "Out of all the hearts I've ripped out of people's chests... yours is the only one that ever made me feel something."

My eyes narrowed. "Really?"

He nodded slowly, his expression grim. "Yeah. It was sickening."

"That explains why you looked like you were going to vomit back there," I whispered. "What did you feel?"

"Pain," he said, spitting the word out like poison. "A kind of agony I didn't think existed. It hit me so hard I couldn't breathe. And I've literally torn my own ribs apart."

I let out a cold, sharp laugh, staring at the floor. "Well... shit."

"That's why I want the truth," Hobo said, leaning closer, his eyes locking onto mine with an intense, predatory focus. "What the hell happened to you, Molly? What kind of life causes so much misery that it can break an unfeeling, immortal monster?"