Trapped (Alastor x reader)

Descent and Delay

GOOD NEWS AND BAD NEWS FOLKS! I have got a good feel for how I can progress this story, and hopefully, might continue this thanks to the second series popping up.

Now to the bad news. This chapter is a bit short and does not contain the explanation of how she died, but more of hints for you to guess. Reason being? It's because I wanted it all focused in one chapter without extra parts being added in the mix. There is another reason for this, but I'm not saying yet ;)

Finally. HAPPY HALLOWEEN!!!

WARNING! mentions of vomit, blood, and potential Charlie bashing

Every single bloody time she opened her mouth when it regarded your sperm donor, Charlie always started with one. F8cking. Word. Why?

Why do you not like your dad?

Why do you not call him dad?

Why don't you give him a chance?

Why did you kill your mum?

Why, why, why, F*CKING WHY?!

(Present)

Leaning over the toilet while trying not to look at the contents that just left your body, was easier said than done when the stench alone was enough to make you look down because it told your stomach to have another round of shot-put, javelin, and hammer throw all at once. And let's not get started on the lingering taste. Nope, you definitely did not want to go down that route again.

Amazing how when bad things happen, the mind immediately starts going into photographic memory mode. Depending on the person, anyway.

Once you were certain you didn't need to lean over again, you hold the last of your breath in so that you could reach for the flush button on top of the toilet before wiping your eyes of any tears that appeared, you also look away in case the smell set you off again and begin the usual method of trying to keep your self grounded. You were not moving from this place until you were certain it was safe. Especially when every muscle in your body was screaming at you to rest, even as you curl into a ball while leaning against the showers wall.

"You look like a ghost walked through you"

Oh, he was here. Lovely.

He's certainly handsome though

Your body freezes at the familiar voice that wasn't male, and you almost miss what Alastor said next.

"Take this, it would certainly be better than sitting in this room for hours"

He's right you know, just remember not to get up too fast, wouldn't want to collapse like last time.

You ignore the second pair of legs and voice from your right, as a familiar plastic bucket appeared in front of you before it moved to rest on the floor next to your leg. You forgot you had that lying around but... how did he know about it? Another wave of coldness causes you to shiver and clutch your arms tighter.

"You certainly look ill. Did you not mention earlier that you don't have a job now?"

As he asks this, your face is grabbed by one of his hands, the ends of his claws poking your skin, but not to the point they would bleed. Was this his version of carefully holding something? By the fires of Hell were you tired. And cold. Sleep would be so good right now. And warmth.

"Why don't you try and sleep some more?"

"Because I have too much to do"

"You are not well, I think that is a good enough reason for you to sleep, you would not do anyone good by working until you're put in an early grave"