Twin Paranormal - Ryan x Reader

shattered silence

*Y/n's pov*

My eyes flutter open, but the world spins in slow motion. The fluorescent lights above me hum a steady, sterile melody. There's a metallic taste in my mouth—blood, maybe, or something bitter. Medicine, I think. I blink rapidly, trying to clear the fog in my mind, but it won’t lift.

The first thing I notice is the sound. The steady beep of a heart monitor somewhere in the background, the low murmur of voices too far away to make out, the shuffle of footsteps in the hallway. It's all distant, like I’m floating above it, separated by some invisible wall.

My head feels too heavy. My body’s too cold. My throat is dry, sore, like I’ve been screaming, but no sound came out. My hands tremble as I reach up to touch my face, feeling the cold sweat dampening my skin.

Where... where am I? The question flashes through my mind like a bolt of lightning, sharp and jarring, but the answer doesn’t come. I look around, but nothing here makes sense.

The last thing I remember... the old woman, the house, the ritual, the demon—Ryan.

Ryan.

My heart skips, and panic floods my chest. My breathing quickens as I throw the thin hospital sheets aside, ignoring the way my body protests. My feet hit the floor with a cold shock. I stand, but I’m unsteady, like I’m floating, like I’m not really here.

"Ryan," I whisper, my voice hoarse, barely audible. There's no reply. No sign of him. I push through the haze in my head, my mind screaming at me to find him.

Where is he?

I stumble toward the door, my steps uncoordinated, each one feeling heavier than the last. The hallway outside is white, too white, and empty. Just the distant clatter of a cart and voices that fade in and out, too far away to make out. My pulse races as I strain to hear something—anything—that might tell me where I am, where he is.

"Ryan!" I call out, louder this time, my fear starting to seep into my voice.

But there’s no answer.

I glance around the room again. It’s sterile. Clinical. Not a hint of warmth anywhere. No pictures on the walls. No signs of life. No Ryan. No River. No Wyatt.

The last time I saw them... the glass shard, Ryan bleeding... I swallow, but the lump in my throat won’t go away.

“Ryan...” I whisper again, like saying his name will somehow bring him back.

I feel a knot in my chest tightening, and I grab onto the doorframe to steady myself. I need to find him. I need to know he’s okay. The thought of him, lying there, bleeding out... it won’t leave my head.

Tears sting at my eyes, but I can’t let them fall—not until I find him. Not until I know.

I stumble forward, heading toward the nurse’s station down the hall. My legs are shaky, like they’re made of rubber. But then, I hear it. A door creaking open behind me. My heart stops, and I turn, praying, begging to see Ryan standing there, maybe just a little bruised but alive.

But it’s only an empty nurse’s cart rolling by, its wheels squeaking eerily in the quiet.

I freeze, my heart pounding in my chest. The fear, that crawling sensation on my skin—it only grows stronger. Something’s wrong. Something’s wrong, and I don’t know what it is.

I glance down the hallway, the way it stretches out before me, empty and sterile. I don’t know where I am. I don’t know where they are. But I do know one thing: I can’t stay here. Not until I have answers. Not until I find them.