Duality (slashers x reader)

1. Something in the Air

I sighed heavily, pressing my hands against my lower back in an attempt to ease the pain. My neck ached and my legs threatened to give in if I didn't sit down immediately. Reluctantly, I slouched down into the only available chair in the room: a dusty, faded armchair I expected hadn't been used in decades. In any other scenario, I would have compared the chair to a medieval torture device, with its lack of cushioning and dangerously exposed springs. But right now, it felt like heaven.

My gaze wandered across the attic room, at the piles and piles of belongings yet to be sorted. I didn't think I'd ever understand why my father had owned so much unused stuff. There was no other word to describe the complete randomness of the items he'd left. You could sort through a box labeled 'books', and find a stuffed otter and a broken boat sail residing next to each other. Yep, stuff.

I dragged my hands down my face, dreading the realisation that I wouldn't get this done by the end of the weekend. I dropped my hands, huffed, and spotted a box I'd neglected to notice before. The writing was illegible from this side of the room, so I slowly rose from the chair, wincing as a sharp sting in my lower back caused me to shout out. I gingerly walked over to the box, tilting it towards the quickly darkening sky outside the window. It didn't work, the writing was far too faded to read, even if it was daylight. I opened the box, half-expecting to find some sort of treasure map or ancient scroll. Instead, I was met with... video tapes. Oh. It's hard to say I wasn't disappointed, especially since I'd just entertained the idea of venturing on a treasure hunt, but this was more realistic. I guess.

I picked up the top tape and found it unlabelled. No cover, no writing, just the tape. A quick glance confirmed my suspicion that every tape was in the same condition. Knowing my father, these would most likely be old horror movies, probably slashers, as he was known to love.

His death had come suddenly, as I hadn't heard from him in 10 years when I suddenly received a phone call informing me of his death. The first few weeks were the toughest, an overwhelming feeling of guilt hanging over me as I wished I'd attempted to reach out. But that slowly faded as I realised he could have put in the effort to call, it wasn't just my fault. That's why I felt like a complete stranger, rooting through his belongings and dictating the fate of everything, things I felt no connection to.

My jumper scratched at my neck and I absentmindedly tugged at the collar, noticing how stuffy the attic room had become. Had it been this hot all day? My head was pounding and I felt I could hear every sound in a 10-mile radius, each drilling angrily into my mind. It didn't matter that there were still loads of boxes to sort through, if I didn't get out of that room now, I'd end up killing someone or breaking down in the fetal position. Possibly both.

I quickly crossed the room and began climbing down the ladder, when my mind registered the VHS I was still holding. 'I could use some entertainment during dinner, I guess'  I thought to myself, and I grabbed the VHS box before climbing down the ladder again. I checked my watch: 9.35 pm. My stomach growled and I mentally cursed myself for not planning dinner. 

The upstairs hallway was cool and dark, and I slowly relaxed, my shoulders dropped and my jaw unclenched. I placed the box down and took my jumper off, as the tag itching at the back of my neck became impossible to ignore. Throwing it over my shoulder, I picked up the box again and walked down the hall to the guest room, where I'd be staying for the foreseeable future. The walls were a dusty blue colour, and the furniture was dark and old-fashioned. It could've been mahogany, but I wasn't sure. Carpentry wasn't exactly my strong suit. I tossed the jumper onto my unpacked suitcase and closed the door, resting the box on my hip as I slowly walked down the stairs. I noticed the many pictures lining the staircase, framed photos of my dad in various locations with other people I didn't recognise. 

My father's house was massive, big enough to be called a mansion technically. There were 5 bedrooms and 3 bathrooms on the top floor, and one bathroom, a kitchen, dining room, living room, and office on the ground floor. No basement, thank goodness, otherwise, I would not have stepped foot in here. I've seen enough horror movies to know the basement is always where shit goes down. 

I dropped the box off in the living room - a dark, old room, with a stone fireplace set in the wall. Though I'd felt ridiculously warm in the house before, I was now much too cold for my liking, wearing only a T-shirt and jeans. I attempted to light the fire, and after many failed attempts, retreated to the kitchen to search for matches. While there, I looked through the cupboards for any food to eat, but they were bare, so I decided to call for a takeaway instead.

Sitting on the surprisingly comfy sofa, I considered which tape to watch. They were all identical, each one as unassuming as the last. I picked one from the centre of the box and set it aside, waiting for my food to arrive before starting. There were hundreds of possible movies it could be, maybe even thousands, though it ruled out anything past 2006.

I scrolled on my phone for a while, my stomach growing more and more agitated at the lack of food until the doorbell rang, at which point I could have bounded off the sofa and pulled the door off its hinges. After retrieving my delivery and thanking the driver, I set my food down on the coffee table and pushed the tape into the VCR.

The movie began, as I eagerly ripped open the container and began to eat.

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This was a super boring chapter, I know, but I needed to establish what was going on first. But don't worry, the next chapter is when things start to pick up, trust me.