Stranger (Johnny slaughter x reader)

Then there was one

"You sick bastard!" Y/n screamed after Johnny, her voice echoing.

Alone in the room with the grotesque sight of Ana Flores' lifeless body hanging on that meat hook, Y/n felt a horrifying sense of isolation. The stench of decay permeated the air, assaulting her senses with its foul intensity. The room seemed to close in on her, its walls adorned with chilling reminders of the horrors that had unfolded there. The floor beneath her was wet and slippery, making every movement a struggle.

The weight of her despair pressed down on her as she trembled in that grim chamber, abandoned by Johnny. Y/n realized the depths of the nightmare she had been thrust into, and her desperate sobs echoed in the room, mingling with the grim silence that surrounded her.

As Y/n's cries of anguish filled the room, her body's exhaustion finally overcame her. Overwhelmed by the gruesome sights and the emotional torment, she drifted into unconsciousness, her mind providing her with temporary respite from the horrors that surrounded her.

Y/n's consciousness returned to her.

To her shock, Johnny was nearby, lying in a dark corner, illuminated only by the reflection of the bright light bouncing off of Ana's body. His appearance had taken an unsettling turn. He now wore yellow gloves, and in his hand, he fidgeted with a curved knife that gleamed ominously in the feeble light. His gaze was fixed intently on her, his expression a mixture of fear and determination.

As Y/n's eyes met Johnny's, she couldn't help but tremble, uncertainty and fear coursing through her. The basement's eerie silence weighed heavily upon them, amplifying the sense of foreboding.

"I'm sorry about all this you know," Johnny said, twirling the knife between his fingers.
Y/n attempted to speak, but her voice was too horse to get anything out comfortably.
She began to cough, the effort of speaking or resisting overwhelming her frail body.
"I really am." Johnny continued.
Johnny stood up and walked towards y/n, she attempted to make herself as small as possible in the corner, backing herself into the wall, her body shivering uncontrollably.
Johnny crouched in front of her, "I'm sorry things ended this way, y/n." He said, sucking his teeth, his gaze still locked onto her.
"You're a fucking victim, Johnny." Y/n forced out, every word sending waves of pain down her throat. Her eyes, swollen from crying, seemed to pierce through Johnny's very soul.
Johnny looked at her, a bad taste in his mouth, regret beginning to creep into his features.
"Really?" He asked cruelly, but some part of him wanted an actual explanation, a way to absolve himself of the guilt that was clawing at his conscience.
"You can't think for yourself," y/n laughed, coughing until she ran out of breath. Each word was a struggle, her voice barely a whisper.
"Why's that?" Johnny asked, now wearing a pensive expression as he took in her words.
"You were keeping me out," her breathing rattled, her fragile form struggling to maintain composure, "you're just doing whatever they tell you."
Johnny stared at her blankly, his own internal battle raging.
"Family first, you understand, right?." He replied, trying to distract from the contemplation, his tone masking the turmoil he felt.
"Fuck you, johnny." Y/n muttered, her voice a defiant whisper.
"Yeah, Johnny's a real monster huh." Johnny said, chewing on the inside of his cheeks, his guilt weighing heavily on his conscience.
Y/n looked at him disgusted, and spat in his face, a final act of defiance in the face of her tormentor.
Johnny scrunched his face and wiped the spit off, his inner conflict intensifying.
"I guess I deserve that." Johnny stood and turned towards the door, his footsteps heavy as he walked away, leaving Y/n alone in that chamber.
Y/n shivered and stared at the stains on the wall, a feeble attempt distracting herself from Anas hanging corpse.
She lay there for hours in agonizing silence, a heavy weight on her chest.

As Y/n lay there, the silence was suddenly broken by the creak of the basement door slowly opening. Y/n's heart raced as she strained to listen, and she could hear the soft, eerie hum of Sissy as she descended the creaky wooden stairs, each step echoing in the confined space.

The suspenseful moment hung in the air as Y/n heard Sissy's approaching footsteps draw closer. Then, with a squeak and a gust of stale air, the door swung open. Light from the hallway flooded into the unevenly lit room, revealing Sissy's silhouette standing there, her eerie presence casting a long, unsettling shadow across the floor.

With a disconcerting sweetness in her voice, Sissy approached Y/n and crouched down beside her, her demeanor oddly motherly. She brushed a strand of hair away from Y/n's face and spoke in a soothing tone, "Oh, dear, how are you holding up down here? It can be quite unsettling at first, can't it?"

Y/n, still trembling and overwhelmed by fear, looked up at Sissy with teary eyes, unable to find her voice. Sissy's presence, while seemingly gentle, only added to the surreal nature.

"Please, you have to help me," Y/n sobbed, her fear and desperation palpable.

Sissy's voice retained its sweetness as she responded to Y/n's desperate pleas.

"I'm sorry, sugar. Are you hungry? Thirsty?" Sissy inquired softly. "I can make you some tea for that throat."

Amid her tears, Y/n's voice trembled as she asked the question that had been haunting her, "Am... am I gonna... is he gonna kill me?"

Sissy looked at Y/n with a deep sense of sympathy, her eyes filled with an unsettling mixture of kindness and detachment. "That's up to him, I'm afraid."

Overwhelmed by the hopelessness of her situation, Y/n turned away, tears streaming down her face as she began to cry once more, the weight of her fear and despair nearly unbearable.

Sissy gently placed a hand on Y/n's shoulder, her touch a bizarre mix of comfort and indifference. "Don't worry, dear. We'll see what the night brings," she murmured, her words offering little solace in the grim basement.

"I just wanted a story... I'm going to die here because of a story." Y/n said, her cries turning to manic laughter.

Sissy tilted her head, her expression a peculiar mix of curiosity and apathy. "What do you mean, love?" She asked, her voice gentle, as if she couldn't quite grasp the gravity of Y/n's predicament.

"Johnny didn't tell you?" Y/n finally turned to Sissy, who looked perplexed.

Sissy's brow furrowed slightly. "Tell me what, dear?"

Y/n let out another bout of manic laughter, gesturing towards Ana's lifeless body. "I came here to ask about her."

Understanding flickered in Sissy's eyes, and she glanced briefly at the sight. "Oh, that. Ana, yes, Johnny took care of her."

Y/n couldn't contain her incredulous laughter, which transitioned into more sobs. The absurdity of her situation seemed to have no end.

"For what?" Y/n asked, her laughter starting up again. "What could she or her sister have possibly done? Honestly?" Her laughter gradually slowed as she turned back to face the cold, damp wall.

Sissy could only stare at Y/n with confusion, not understanding why Y/n had ever wandered onto the property and seemingly oblivious to the dark secrets that the family harbored.

"How do you know her?" Sissy asked, her voice filled with genuine curiosity as she tried to piece together the unusual situation.

"I don't," Y/n's response seemed disconnected, almost as if she just wasn't present. "I'm just... I'm just a writer."

Sissy looked at Y/n with a mixture of pity and compassion. "You seemed to know Johnny. What's that about?" she inquired gently.

Y/n's voice was filled with exhaustion as she explained, "The gas station, I just wanted to know if he'd seen something I can write about."

Sissy's heart went out to Y/n as she whispered, "You poor thing..."

"Someone knows I'm here. And they expected a call this morning," Y/n looked up at Sissy, her voice growing stronger despite her dire situation. "Even if you kill me, you're not getting away." A weak smile crept onto her face, a glimmer of strength in her eyes.

Sissy's face remained a puzzling mix of emotions, caught between her compassion for Y/n and the deep loyalty she felt for her family.

"I'm sorry, darling," she uttered softly, her voice carrying a note of genuine regret. She slowly got to her feet, casting a somber gaze around the grim room, with Y/n lying amidst its disturbing surroundings.

"What an awful place he's put you in," she murmured, her sigh laden with sympathy. With a final glance at Y/n, she turned and quietly exited the room, leaving Y/n alone once again.