Another Day, Another Doppel - Francis Mosses x Reader

10 - A Second Chance

You snapped out of your bed, gasping for air as you grabbed at your throat, choking to survive. You flopped to the ground, crawling as you felt yourself turning cold. You began punching at your diaphragm, trying to dislodge something from your throat. At the last pound, you watched as something launched from your mouth into the air.

You sat up, gasping as you felt oxygen once again circulating to your brain and heart. You sighed with relief, looking over at the object stuck to the hardwood floor.

A single card. The ace of spades.

Francis woke up to the sound of someone knocking on his door. It wasn't so loud the rest of the residents on the floor would hear it, but it was persistent enough that he could hear it from his couch. He growled, sitting up before checking the time. 7:42 pm. He napped through dinner.

He approached his door, barely opening before someone pushed the rest of the way in, clutching onto him, tears streaming down their face.

You clung on like you hadn't seen him in years and wouldn't see him again. You gasped for air after sprinting up two flights of stairs immediately after almost choking to death. 

As soon as his tired demeanor caught up with the situation, he grabbed back at you and held you, shutting the door with his foot as he hugged you tightly, not saying a word as you choked on your own tears. 

"I-I, H-He-"

"Breathe, slowly." He stated as you tried to comply, but your breathing would hitch every time you got a moment of calm.

He pulled back for a moment, examining you. 

"You're bleeding."

You didn't even know it until he pulled you to the bathroom, placing you in front of the mirror as he grabbed his first aid kit. You had a large cut on your neck. It wasn't deep enough to damage anything major, but deep enough it was bleeding. It was vertical, leading up your left collarbone to your chin. The slice was clean.

The last thing you heard was shattering glass.

"It was real."

"What-What was real?" He questioned, sitting his first aid kit on his sink as he looked up at you. "Did a doppelgänger get in?"

"N-No, I-" You stumbled through your words, collecting yourself. You felt so stupid and childish, but on the other hand, you knew you had reason to feel this way. You almost died.

"Y/N. You need to tell me who hurt you." His voice wasn't tired anymore. He was worried, and frustrated, and as terrified as you were.

"The clown."

"The clown?" He questioned. "Start from the beginning."

That's exactly what you did. The nightmares scape, the demonic retellings of your neighbors, the fragments of details that lead you to believe there were doppelgängers getting smarter, even the fact that he and Nacha switched rooms. You weren't leaving anything out, praying that he knew exactly what to do because you left nothing to the imagination. 

Then, came the clown. The disgusting, disturbing, haunted clown that attempted to destroy you in your own nightmare.

"Wait...he asked you to play a game?"

"And I lost."

"Why did you even say yes? Didn't you get that letter back when this all started?" He questioned as you froze. 

"Are you mad at me for getting attacked?" You questioned as he let out a sigh. 

"You don't play games with that clown."