ᴄʀᴀᴄᴋᴇᴅ ᴅɪᴀᴍᴏɴᴅs⋆｡° ✮ || Earth 42! Miles x Reader

˖°.𓆩ʀᴇᴅ ʀᴜᴍ𓆪 .°˖

TW: Graphic depictions of murder. 

"Nah, you're just picking up some cookies...If you don't go I'll post your middle school photos on my story." Kalias shrugged, a sleepy grin on his face as you gathered your things off the end table next to the front door.

"You lucky I'm already going on a run...What's your order again? You said you got a twelve-piece with sugar and birthday cake right?" I grunted, popping my AirPods in my ears and fixing my baggy blue sweater around my neck. The soft and warm feeling of fresh cotton kept my body temperature regulated when crossing through the treacherous winds of Brooklyn. It was already brick as fuck outside, and truth be told I didn't want to be outside anyway. But a routine is a routine, and persistence is to push through.

"Yeah, I'll send you the address right now. It's like two blocks away," He nodded, dropping me a pin for a cookie shop that definitely wasn't 'two blocks' away. It's not even like it mattered anyway, I'll pass by the cute little bakery during my walk. "Lock the door. I find out you brought the zoo to my house and I'll drive my keys into the side of your neck. Real talk." I mumbled, slamming the front door behind me as the sudden temperature change kissed the tip of my nose and gnawed at my fingertips.

I reset my steps on my watch, crossing my arms around my body as I trekked through what felt like a cold and bitter version of hell. Somewhere along the way, I decided to only walk half of my normal distance due to the weather, shivering and shaking while I silently prayed that the bakery had some sort of heating system that would bring forth comfort and relaxation. There was no way in hell I'd be walking a mile or so in the cold for nothing but absolute pain and cold cookies.

I turned up the volume of my AirPods just a smidge. If I was going to be uncomfortable, I might as well freeze to death listening to some good shit before I let go. The sound of coarse gravel mixing with deep bass and rhythmic shouting blended, ensuring I was aware of my surroundings as I rounded what felt like the eighth corner. The bright warm lining of a cozy little sweet shop slowly began to emerge into my field of vision, cute little signs and adorable artwork painted on the glass as I swung open the frosted double doors to 'HoneyPot Confectionary'.

I was greeted with the smell of warm sugar and pure love, looking around to see employees who looked around my age giggling alongside each other by the front counter as they watched something on one girl's phone. The space was warm and inviting, with groups of college and high school kids conversing over overflowing boxes of sugary delights and milkshakes of dreams. "Hi!" I sang, walking up the the counter as I took my arms out of their previously tucked sleeves and rubbed my hands together.

"Hey! Welcome t-...Malcolm, move back before I punch in your THROAT-! I'm sorry," She giggled, placing both her elbows on the counter and propping her head on top of her closed fists. "Welcome to HoneyPot! What can I get you tonight?" She beamed, cute pink and yellow brace bands peeking out from her adorable smile.

"I'm here to pick up an order for Kalias! 12 count with sugar and birthday cake?" I smiled, showing her the order details on my phone as she grinned back at me. She clicked her tongue, motioning towards another employee who looked a lot like her to the back before turning her attention back to me.

"Of course! That'll be out in just a second!" She reassured, leaning forward a little so she could lift her legs off the ground for a little bit.

"Damn, y'all are so joyful here! This is like the only place in Brooklyn with decent staff," I chuckled, stuffing my phone back in my pocket as I stood under the 'Pick-Up' sign. The girl gave me a thrilled smile, her pale face flushing a tiny bit as she dropped her head with bashful delight.

"I know, right? I guess you could say it's because we all agree that our manager fuckin' sucks! We kinda built a bond on that, so it's really like working with classmates," she shrugged, adjusting her glasses with the tip of her finger as her assumed brother emerged with a rather large-looking box of cookies.

"Yeah this definitely ain't twelve but it's not coming out of my pocket. Enjoy!" He beamed, sliding the box down the counter so I wouldn't have to move from my spot. I mouthed a small thank you before waving goodbye to the nice cashier, taking a glance at her nametag to see her name was Valerie.

The change in atmosphere as soon as I stepped out those same glass double doors was devastating; what once was warm and joyful turned petrifying and frigid as I checked my watch to see how many steps I had gotten. Over three thousand steps and I only just made it to my destination. I was ready to go the hell home, speedwalking through the velvety cloak of the night with intense vigor. The box of cookies provided much-needed warmth to my hands, clutching the thin cardboard as my legs began to ache from the cardio.

It was eerily quiet; the absence of gunshots, deafening arguments, mindless pleading, and broken glass triggered the hairs on my arms to stand straighter than a line itself. Sirens were sending off in my mind, red hot streaks of danger waving themself in my face as I trudged forward. I was overcome with foreboding and anxiety, speeding up my pace as I got closer and closer to my home.

There were no hints that pinpointed this sense of impending doom, no signs to signify why I felt like I was about to witness something I shouldn't. What the hell is wrong with me? It's quiet, the wind is whistling its usual song of tranquility, but I can't shake the feeling of mind-fogging fear.

Thump...Thump...Thump...

I'm only two blocks away from my apartment, once I get inside there's nothing I need to be afraid of. I'll give Kalias his dumb ass cookies and take a cold shower. Yeah, that'll ease my mind. I've done this time and time again, 9 PM sharp every day for the last three years. It's times like this where I wish my anxiety would leave me alone. There was nothing to be afraid of.

Thump..Thump..Thump..

So why does my stomach feel like it's twisting? There's a bitter and chalky taste filled my mouth and I feel like I shouldn't keep walking, but there isn't anything in the world I can do about that. They say trust your instincts, but what should you do when your only option for safety is to ignore them?

Fuck it, push through.

I took a series of deep, cold breaths as I purposefully slowed down my steps. Each step I took echoed in the confines of my mind, firm rubber colliding with dusty concrete as I examined my peripheral-

"PLEASE. PLEASE HAVE MERCY, I-I-I'LL DO ANYTHING...!"

It was deafening. High and shrill, no sound in the world came close to the amount of terror instilled in my body. Stupidly, I turned my head and locked eyes on a horrific scene; a young man being split clean open by a mysterious claw while red and silky blood painted the eroded concrete and dirt path a deep ruby, flowing out of the dimly lit alleyway. The smell of dirty iron and rotting apples invaded my nose, coercing nausea from my throat and squeezing my skull into an agonizing headache.

What was once an 'anxiety attack' registered into a warning from my sixth sense. Squishy 'tubes' being pulled straight from the unknown man's abdomen with a disgustingly wet slosh. Life drained from his face, horror permanently etched into his eyes as they pierced the thin fabric between this reality and the afterlife. It hadn't occurred to me I was completely frozen, rooted to the spot as I felt all thoughts drain from my body. The man, no, murderer dropped the defiled corpse on the ground, stomping on his head until there was a series of nauseating pops, cracks, and finally...squelches.

I swallowed the bile threatening to erupt from my mouth, tripping over my own feet and wobbling while I ran the remainder of the way home. My heart throbbed and squeezed in my chest, clutching everything on me as I panted like my life depended on it. Heave after heave, patter after patter, tears pulled themselves from my waterline as the wind forced them to the back of my face.

I just witnessed a murder. Sure life was dangerous in Brooklyn, but I never would have imagined someone could brutally rip a soul out of its vessel and not even flinch. I practically ran into my front door, anxiously fiddling with my keys through shaky hands before darting up the stairs and throwing Kalias' cookie box on the coffee table.

I crawled to the trashcan, gasping and groaning as my little brother came darting from out of his room, eyes widening as he watched vomit rush from the back of my throat into the thick black trash bag.

"Call the police. Please"