''TO BREAK A WINDOW.'' (creepypasta/marble hornets × gn!reader)

entry 01

You wake up, brain fuzzy. Fuzzy in the way that you leg feels like static when it falls asleep. You feel like static. You can feel it like frostbite, making its way from your finger tips and toes, slowly towards the center of your body. You can hear it, too. The distinctive buzzing of static at a higher pitch than it should be. Your vision is grainy, like the cctv cameras in FNAF 1. Damn, you are tripping. Your vision doesn't clear out completely, you can still see the static-y overlay, but it's fainter. It's not like you're viewing the world through the lenses of a doorbell cam anymore.
You can smell a disgusting rotting stench. Rotten meat, maybe. Gross.
Just as the half-familiar feeling leaves your body, you're greeted by a dull pain in your lower abdomen. Dull pain is much worse than sharp pain, because it feels like it shouldn't be there. It lingers for days, hidden out of mind until you least expect it
The lights are non-existent.
Okay maybe a little existent. You can see a yellowy light peeking out from underneath the door out of the room you're in. You sit up, moving your leg just to find out you're chained to this bed.
Bed?
So you're in a bedroom, chained to the foot of the bed, and there's a door. Plan: find a light switch, flip it, and explore the room as much as you can.
You stand up, returning to being affected by gravity.
Who are you, again?
You're (Y/N) (L/N), a criminology major in your junior year of college. You live with your pet cat, Squeak, who is the bestest boy ever. You're an English minor.
Minor as in college, you're around 21.
Back to the problem at hand, you need to get out of this bed. You brace your hands under yourself and roll off the bed. The chain pulls as you stand. You walk as quietly as you can with the metal scraping across the floor towards the door. You drag your s/t hand across the wall, tracing around the same spot with your palm repeatedly until you bump a light switch. You flick it on, closing your eyes as the light temporarily blinds you. You blink rapidly before stepping away and looking around the room.
The floors are hardwood, although you'd already guessed that due to the sound your footsteps made. The walls had an old floral wallpaper with was peeling on the tops and bottoms. The walls were splattered with blood throughout, and the floors were stained with dried crimson footprints. Turn to see a fractured mirror, which was completely cracked in the middle, cracks spreading out like a spider web. Probably punched. You stare at yourself. (Hair description) hair, e/c eyes, b/t build. You looked the same as you usually did, although bloodied and with bedhead. You're in different clothes from yesterday, you don't want to think about it too much.
You continue observing your surroundings. There's two doors, both of which you try. One of them is locked, and the other is a bathroom. You've now discovered that the chain isn't actually that short. There's a claw footed bathtub with gross yellow and pale red stains deeming the porcelain imperfect. A grimy sink with similar stains, and the tiles were chipped and yellowed. There was no mirror, nor a vanity, but that was fine because there was already a mirror in the other room. The tiles were moldy near the base of the probably-not-cleaned-in-the-last-decade toilet. Gross. This entire area is gross. You walk back to the bedroom, noticing a boarded off window. You peer through it, which gives you no clues to your location other than being deep in the woods and probably on the third floor. Why are there multi-story buildings in the middle of nowhere? Actually, don't think too hard, because the foul smell is getting stronger.
You hear a dragging from the hallway. So there are other people here. Holy shit, (Y/N) , you're dead. You press yourself against the wall, just in case. You quietly your breathing as you pray it's not the horrific cunt from before that stabbed you. The one with the greasy hair and deformed face.
You hear a knock on the door, the knob twisting. You glance over, and its-