Babydoll (Eclipse x reader)

Into the Night

(Will stay as a one-shot for now.
I am open for requests!)

-x-

You have a lot of names.

The Puppet and Lenora Lake Murderer being two of them. It was a laughable subject, to you, at least, whenever you watch the news about it or hear words spreading around in this small city. People just have the tendency to speak whatever about whoever if they aren't listening, spreading lies all over the place.

It wasn't as if they were wrong, really. Though, the reasons were just picking under your skin— just a little. People were starting to become wary the longer the police failed to catch this so-called killer. They started to keep their kids home more often, especially after dark. People began to worry too much, squinting at anyone who may show any sign of being the murderer— with no luck of succeeding, of course. You knew how to get around just as easily.

A name stares at you from your notebook, disgrace feels like it drips from the ink. Another one. You have found another one. The image makes you grip your cup of early morning coffee tightly, just shy away from breaking the glass. An abuser. You had found another abuser. They weren't that hard to find, really. The signs could be ignorable but they aren't unseeable.

Above the name, multiple others reside, scratched over till the paper starts to tear. But those aren't important, those were already done with.

In the eye of the public, you were nothing but a murderer out for blood— victims chosen randomly. You were nothing but a sadistic killer who the police were never able to find the bodies of those you have killed. And when they do, they're little pieces of bones or flesh.

Though, you wouldn't say you're completely clean of such doings, you do still have good reason for them. It just never seems to cross any investigator's mind. Too stupid. They're trying to find you more than seeing into the reasons for those "random" kills.

How unfortunate.

But no matter. What the public has to say can be kept to themselves. Your work is your masterpiece for reasons justified, even if little saw fit.

Jone Anderson.

The names stared at you.

You stare back.

It is really just a matter of how long it takes to find the perfect time. This place needs sanitizing, and if the police were too blind to do that, then so be it. They can only dream of finding you, not with how... special you deal with the corpses.

Squeak—

Ah, speak of the devil.

The squeaking became horrid and you shift an arm to cover the edge of the seat just as a small being came running over. The tapping of each footstep made a high-pitched squeak not unlike a toy. Thankfully, it didn't hit the corner of the chair and, instead, began running around and under your legs, going in circles over and over. The burning colors of dark purple and brown blurred with red as it moved, sun rays flopping and flipping in the process with a starry nightcap.

Squeak! Squeak! Squeak—

You catch the thing just as it makes another circle around you, raising it up and sitting it on the table before you. A sharp smile tailored over the doll's face greeted you, golden and red button-eyes seemed to stare at your soul.

"Keep running like that and you'll hurt yourself." You say, poking a finger on the doll's middle.

Tiny arms raise up, clawed hands stretched out. "I'm hungry." A hoarse voice came out, demanding. So impatient.