Second Skin --- A Proxies x F!Reader Fanfic

Uh Oh, Unnie!

Ch18-

Brutus

Warning: Vomit, worms, murder, drowning, amoeba, mistreatment, abuse, gross stuff in general.

Your lungs are heavy with air. You cough and sputter cold contaminated fluid from your organ. One you've managed to outdo. The scent of alcohol invades your nose after, and you're forced to sneeze out mucus from your nostrils as you emerge from the river to your car. How you are alive, you don't know.  How you got here in this part of an unrecognizable path in the forest, you don't know either. You feel nothing but numbness in your system. Physically, mentally, and emotionally empty. The husk of a person you were. You felt cold and wet. It felt disgusting. The pained gurgles reccured in your mind. She was a squealing pig. A dying hopeless bitch. Maybe she deserved it. Maybe she doesn't. All you knew is you were dragging her head by her hair back onto land.

The brain eating amoeba must be doing its thing, the voices whispering and giggling in your head getting to work. You could feel the sanity slip away from the fingertips of your free hand as your full dragged her nearly unconscious body to pump the water out of her lungs with both. You smacked her face and she started crying. You almost felt pity. Almost.

"What motivates you?"

She asked with an expression that a mother would cry for and kill over. You wondered if her mother would feel bad too. You felt heat bubbling in your stomach. The bad kind. Your eyes shifted to her broken legs. Twisted in opposite directions. What did motivate you? Was it negative emotions? Was it intuition? Was it alcohol? You crossed your arms, looking down at the girl with an unreadable expression. You didn't know. Maybe it was a mix of the three. Maybe it was just one. You didn't know who you were anymore, but you also felt like this was the real you. The bud at the very core of the onion, layers carefully peeled whilst under the influence. This girl really had you thinking.

Thump.

The work pile on your desk increased. You looked up to see the woman with glasses who continued to torment you. Althea's already told you how much she hates that woman. Condescending and judgemental. You were told to just ignore her. but you can't. You really can't. Althea didn't know you before you were sent on a cubicle to work. At first, you applied for this job as a janitor, like mop boy that Richard loved to torment every day. You mopped the floors with him, scrubbed the tiles of the rarely used bathroom, cleaned up blood and bile from the desks of the people that vomited or passed out due to exhaustion, but insisted on working. You always wore a mask over your face. You hated the dirt. You were grossed out. But what else did you know how to do instead of act and clean?

You used to look up at that woman. She just seemed to be hardworking, and manages to stay beautiful on top of it all. Some days, she was nice to you, some days, she was the reincarnation of the devil. She spreads rumors about you, not fitting for an older lady working in an office. You always heard whispers wherever you were, and had to stay as a janitor for quite a while. And that was on days where she was neutral. You considered her a devil when she got physical, kicking you accidentally, tripping you accidentally, spitting on you accidentally, or dunking your head in the toilet accidentally with her cherry red stilletos. You felt like you were to drown. The lowest. You could tell your parents, yet you can't after you yelled at their face that you didn't need help. The water was cold on your face. It reeked of piss and vomit. You can't quit either. All the other jobs requiring labor were too dirty for your liking, full, or only hiring people who were good at accounting.

It was when the CEO had called you into the office that you had a shot to change. Mr. Robert Mitchell had called you over to clean his office. It was on the highest floor. Big, pristine and white, bright, and shiny. The color was making your eyes dry out slightly. "Gretchen had told me and a handful of people that apparently, you were tending to the other worker's... Sexual needs on late hours in the break room. Is this true?" You blinked, gripping the mop tighter while your brows furrowed. You looked at the floor. Not in shame. You've never touched a man before. The very bottom of your pure heart told you that they were inconsiderate monsters. That way of thinking was pushed further by Richard. So with all the confidence a lowly janitor could muster, you lift your head and shake it in disagreement.