Killer x Reader His profession AU

XXI

Voices were screaming. Their distorted words echoing in the empty air surrounding you, deafening you as you sat hunched together, making you as small as possible. "..n! R..n!" They came and went, some sounding softer than another, a whisper caressing your hands covering your ears. Others felt like coming from your own mind, sounding like your own voice, urging you, but to do what, you couldn't decipher.

Another voice penetrated the screaming, calm and collected as it addressed you. The voice was low, almost on another frequency compared to the others, rumbling through you until it was all you could hear, only to be distorted by the others from time to time. "I'm so proud RUN of you for getting RUN this far." Looking up from your hunched position, you wordlessly pleaded for someone to give you salvation to the blinding darkness in your mind.

"The hell in your mind will be nothing compared to the person it couldn't kill."

"What a beautiful truth." It was a sigh whispered to your ear, the one saying those words invisible to you.

"Run." The former voice distorted, shaking you out of a stupor. "Run, my little (y/n)."

Rubbing your face with your hand, you urged your mind to keep up and lose the exhaustion from your mind. Sleep had been difficult to receive and even more difficult to keep, it seemed. Dreams faded from your memories the moment you opened your eyes, confusing you why your heart was racing in your chest. The pull of sleep had been so sudden, you couldn't even get to bed in time, awoken on the ground mere minutes ago and still dazed from everything happening all at once. The tv sounded with static, the mediabox having shut down as there was only black and white in the screen.

A groan left your lips as you pushed yourself up from the floor, the knots in your muscles tugging on your limbs, giving short bursts of dulled pain. Your phone flashed with missed calls and messages. Pulling the device closer to you, your brows furrowed at the unknown numbers listed before you listened to your voicemail. One stood out from the others as there were lots of background noises, the voice cutting through them one you had heard only a few times before. "The idiot wants to see his girlfriend again at ten o'clock. Do you think she'd be available to be picked up before that?" Your heart fluttered, only for your chest to tighten.

When the plan had been set in motion, it felt so, so far away and now that it had been carried out, successfully you assumed, you felt the jitters coursing through your veins. Maybe because it had been thought to be so far in the future, you hadn't let the nerves get to you, but as days turned into weeks, you realised sleep had been deluding you and everything hit you like a freight train all at once. A headache pierced through the dullness of your exhaustion, your breathing accelerating steadily until dizziness had replaced the pain instead. Your stomach churned, yet you shoved it off at excitement for the reunion with Killer instead of a subconscious warning.

You still had some hours to kill before you'd probably be picked up and you had texted back that the girlfriend would be waiting patiently at any place directed. In the meantime, you took your time pattering around your home, doing a few chores halfway, picking up a book only to put it back down due to your headache worsening and choosing some clothes to wear. You weren't sure whether there would be more people to welcome Killer back from the dead, so you kept it safe. On the other hand, you weren't sure whether you wanted something to happen between Killer and you anyway.

There had been a nagging voice whispering in the back of your mind ever since you had listened to your voicemail, a fair warning you couldn't decipher correctly. Muscles moved by themselves, preparing a light dinner as you listened to soft music to keep your mind occupied a little. The tones of the songs playing gave you little comfort, the baritone voice resembling that of a monster rearing up behind you, the hairs on your neck raising as a signal to warn you of impending doom. The voice of a woman more like wailing in the background as the drums were like footsteps pounding on the floor, closing in on you with every move. In the end, even this was something you quit halfway, turning off the stove as you felt goosebumps cover your arms, shivers running up and down your back and lack of energy making your limbs grow heavy.