A Reincarnated Sacrifice (A Dirk x Reader fanfiction)

Avoiding the True Story

"Where's...my...journal...?" The hoarse question seemed to barely come out of your mouth, yet it still caused the same shock factor to erupt in those around you.

"[F/N], w-w-why do you want to know where that yucky thing is? Don't you remember what it did to you?" The usual cheerful and chipper voice of Roxy was drowned out by the voice of concern. She couldn't even comprehend your need for the journal – after seeing what had happened, she never wanted you to touch the damned thing again, but it wasn't what she wanted. It's what you wanted.

"Y-Yeah! Roxy's right – after all you did just go through something quite traumatic, did you not?" Yet another voice pitched it, this time that of the raven haired boy's. He had a very worried look on his face, as if you had asked the plans to a secret weapon he was developing.

"Yes – I did, but that has no relevance as to what we are discussing as of this moment. I need to read my journal." You continued to insist, and pester on, not letting them hold back the information that was lost to you so many years ago anymore.

They didn't seem to want to give into your demands – all due to the nervous looks on their faces, yet you needed to know. You needed to know how you got this cursed eye – you needed to know your life of imprisonment – but most of all, you needed to know why that voice that you can still hear clearly in your head wanted you to read such a thing again. You needed to know why it was important to them, as it didn't effect such an sentient being in any physical shape – so why? The feeling of urgency, the feeling of a necessity being right in front of you but out of your reach filled your entire being. The shock of being so needy after being stoic for a large portion of your life caught you by surprise, as once the feeling entered your body, you immediately bent over to clutch your chest, breathing out pants as the sweat droplets trickled down your face. You remembered this feeling – it was the same one of that you felt in your dream bubble. The terror of being chased down – of being gun downed – yet why was it reappearing in such an anticlimactic situation? There was no danger, well, at least, not towards you, so why here?

That's when it came – the same feeling wasn't terror, nor was it the exhaustion of prolonged running – it was the urgent need for something. Currently, it was your need for the journal, as it, for some reason, was the end of your goals. Back then, however, it was the need for life – the need to keep living. It was almost as if your body was saying the same thing – this journal was as important as your life was. That's why you couldn't give it up. This current scene, however, wasn't helping you in the long run.

"...ey....hey! [F/N], are you alright?" The familiar deep voice of Dirk rang through your ears as you focused in on the reality around you once again, letting out a shaky breath before standing back up.

"...Y...Yes, I'm fine. Thank you, Dirk."

"Are you sure? You look a little-" He tried to question again, but you just nodded your head, and put out a hand towards Roxy and Jake.

"My journal – before I forcibly take it from your dead hands." Your voice sounded threatening, of course being the first inflection heard in your voice, however, not being a good point to start at.

"Gosh, if you're going to throw a fit then we won't give you the journal..." The small voice that, still, hesitated to speak to you mumbled to herself, as you glanced back at Jane briefly, only to turn your attention to the two once again.

"A-Are you shitting me? O-Oh jeez, look at what you made me do!" Jake's voice was becoming noticeably shaken.

"You almost passed out – there's no way we're giving you the journal now." Again, the blonde spoke up, and you just looked over at him as he made his way towards Jake, and put an arm around him, the entire time holding a direct hold of eye contact with you.