Duality (slashers x reader)

13. Famous Last Words

I was jolted out of sleep by a loud crash and my body jerked as I sat up on the sofa, the blanket still laying over my legs and stomach. Looking down, I found the source of the bang to be my laptop- shattered on the ground. I leaned down to retrieve it but immediately recoiled as pain rippled through my chest and back. I bit my lip to keep from yelling, tasting blood on my tongue, before letting out a heavy sigh and wincing as I grabbed my laptop and pulled it up to my lap.

The screen had a crack resembling a spider's web in the top left corner and some smaller cracks on the right side. I pressed the on button, holding out hope that it would still work, but the screen stayed blank. I waited and tried again, this time holding the button down for three seconds before letting go and hoping again, but still, nothing happened. The jet engine of a fan didn't start up, a sound I loathed but would give anything to hear right now.

I closed it and threw it onto the other end of the sofa, burying my face in my hands as a few sobs escaped. There was no way I could afford another laptop at this moment and I needed it for my job. My boss already hated me because I was so behind on my current work but what would he do if he found out I couldn't complete any work now? I'd be fired on the spot.

Dragging my hands down my face, I let out a huff of frustration and groped around the sofa cushions for my phone, eventually finding it stuffed down the back. I placed it on the coffee table before gingerly standing up, wincing as I straightened my back and felt as if the skin over my spine would tear. Slowly and carefully, I picked up my phone again and made my way upstairs, throwing my phone onto my bed before retreating to the bathroom and quickly stepping into the shower. I turned the heat up as much I could handle and watched as the room filled with steam, the water immediately soothing the aches and strains I felt. God, I had to admit it was fun waking up in these alternate worlds but fuck, I definitely didn't like feeling the effects the day after.

Once I'd dried myself off, I changed into the only remaining clean clothes I had, a black jumper and a pair of faded dark jeans, before pulling out my phone to order breakfast. I knew I had nothing in the cupboards downstairs and I wasn't sure if I'd have the chance to visit the supermarket today so it looked like delivery was my only option. I spent a while deciding what to have, chewing my lip as I pondered over the menus, before ordering and making my way downstairs to tidy up the living room. I folded up the creased blanket and carefully balanced it on the arm of the sofa, then retrieved the tape from the VHS player. This time, I could remember which movie I'd watched so I grabbed a marker from my dad's office and wrote on the tape's plain-label: 'SCREAM'. I placed it next to the box of tapes and then stopped. I'd watched Scream last night and then woke up to find myself in Woodsboro. I couldn't remember which movie I'd watched the night before but I'd found myself at Camp Crystal Lake with Jason so I assumed the movies coincided with my dreams. Or I guess my dreams matched with the movies technically. I grabbed the first tape and wrote 'FRIDAY THE 13TH', though I was unsure of which part it had been so I left a little space at the end to add a number just in case. 

I sat on the edge of the coffee table and thought about the dreams I'd been having, though it wasn't like I'd thought of much else for the past few days. I think it safe to assume I fell asleep while the tapes were playing, causing me to somehow be sent to these universes while I was unconscious and then wake up in them. I was still myself though, or at least, a younger version of myself. They weren't just normal dreams, though, because I could feel every physical thing that happened to me. But that wasn't the crazy thing, dreams where you were fully aware of everything happening were real. The strange thing was I woke up back in my normal body and world feeling the effects of everything that had happened to me. Kind of like a hangover but instead of getting blackout drunk, I got stabbed to death. Fun.

The sharp ring of the doorbell startled me and dragged me from my train of thought. I'd completely forgotten about the food I'd ordered and was afraid of a masked figure waiting behind the door to attack me. Though I knew that was stupid and impossible, my heart still pounded slightly as I opened the door to greet the delivery driver.

My chest fluttered as I locked eyes with his dark, dark brown ones. His hair was brown and wavy, and he wore the same charming smile I'd admired just last night. I stared dumbfounded as he waited patiently for me to move, before he furrowed his brows and asked me 'You did order food, didn't you?' 

'Yes. Yes, I'm so sorry. Thank you, so much.' I took the bag from him and tipped him, which he took with a polite 'thanks' before giving me one last look of confusion as I closed and locked the door. I ran to the front window and peeked out from behind the curtain, catching one last glimpse of him as he squeezed his helmet over his hair and drove away from my house down the street. I peeled back from the window and set my food down on the coffee table, sitting on the sofa I'd spent far too much time on the past few days. 

I ate my breakfast, though by this time it was nearing lunch, in silence as I tried to convince myself that I wasn't going crazy and that I had just seen Sam at my front door the night after he tried to kill me. I'd never seen him before this dream, and I hadn't seen Sarah before either yet I ran into her at the cafe yesterday. Though, I'd only been in this town for not even a week, so there's no way I would've seen them before. Either my brain was somehow adding people I've never known to my dreams, or my dreams were somehow creating these people and placing them into the world. 

I threw my empty container and cutlery onto the table and leaned back into the sofa, running my fingers through my hair. Both of those ideas were fucking stupid and made zero sense. The more I thought about it, the less anything made sense about this situation. So don't think about it.

Don't think about it. I stopped, considering this for a while. No harm was being done by this. Sure I felt fucking rough the next day but as long as I didn't wake up with an actual stab wound in my chest, nothing really mattered. Nothing mattered. 

Filled with a newfound sense of triviality, I sprung up from my seat and carried my dirty dishes to the kitchen, disposing of them in the bin before placing my cutlery in the dishwasher. I opened my phone and sent my boss an email describing my issue with my laptop and therefore my inability to complete the work, free of the usual anxiety I felt when speaking to him.

The entire day I spent on this wave of euphoria, feeling incredibly productive and somehow finishing sorting the attic, everything now divided into corresponding piles. With that sorted, I only had the rest of the house to sort, with the attic surprisingly housing over half of my dad's belongings. I'd easily be able to finish it in less than a week, meaning I'd be out of this house before the end of the month. It was a shame really, I'd grown quite fond of this place.

By 7 pm my stomach was growling monstrously and I felt the high wearing off as my body grew heavy and yawns became more frequent. Vowing to take a trip to the supermarket tomorrow, I pulled out my phone once again and ordered pizza, thinking I could at least have the leftovers for breakfast tomorrow. Though I was so hungry I wouldn't be shocked if I ate the whole thing tonight. 

I walked down to the living room again and pulled the curtains shut, ensuring the window was locked tight, before deciding to check every window in the house just to be sure. After that, I unlocked and locked the back door again, before wandering back into the living room once I was satisfied the house was secure. Not long after, my pizza arrived and I thanked the driver before depositing my food on the table and locking the door extra securely, checking it was locked three times before moving over to the box of tapes, excited to see where I might imagine myself tonight. If I worked extra hard to try and not get hurt, these nightly escapades could become an extremely fun way to pass the time if I ever got bored. I'd just have to find a way to leave without dying.

I picked a random one, pushing play on the machine before relaxing back onto the sofa and grabbing my first slice of pizza, feeling the buzz of my excitement as the tape whirred in the silence of the house.