Oh my... This story already has 0ver 250 hearts, it's just unbelievable! Thanks guys!
Also thanks to Blondey and her followers, my reads shot over the 10.000 in merely a few days. I couldn't be more grateful to them. Last but not least I want to thank all my lovely followers and the people who left those nice comments on my story. You make my day!
Anyway this chapter contains vulgar language, be prepared!
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"Missed! Again!" Your instructor yelled at you, pointing towards the hole in the wall which was nearly 30 centimeters off target. You narrowed your eyes at the cardboard figure standing quite some feet away from you. As if that was going to help you shoot better.
You knew it was futile, you weren't in spick and span shape this whole day. The only thought soaring through your mind was that damned sentence over and over again:
"I'll give you one day to decide, or we'll be coming to get you."
No one could easy the feelings of terror slowly creeping its way up towards your abdomen, making you feel sick to your stomach. You wanted to use these threats to your advance, shooting the target with the determination and rage you felt, but somehow you couldn't.
The strange sensation kept suppressing any other emotion or feelings even when the guard told you there was nothing to worry about. There certainly was something to worry about, you just didn't know what it was yet. You only hoped your gut was wrong and that the FBI was right.
'PAF'
Damnit! You missed again. You gave a loud growl of frustration as your hands reached for your head. You felt the sudden urge to slam your face against the concrete walls. You shook your head roughly a few times, trying to get your focus back on the shooting.
"What's wrong with you (Y/N), it's like you've tumbled back all the way to one of the first trainings together." Your instructor now stood right in front of you, his brown eyes demanding an explanation. You only rolled your eyes with a loud sigh, but not because of him.
"I just can't get that dream out of my head! It's like it's following me everywhere I go! I can't concentrate." You placed your gun on the small table next to you, before plopping down into a very uncomfortable wooden chair. Your instructor took another chair before he sat down in front of you, leaning forward to show his interest.
"Listen (Y/N). I know this is a wacky situation for you, but you need to focus. If you ever come across that killer you need to stay cool and collected in order to shoot correctly. If you don't all these trainings will be in vain." He said, his elbows placed on his upper legs to support his upper body.
You knew this was true and all, but what if you really couldn't get it out of your head? There were so many freaking things going on in your crazy life and you needed someone to help you think. This messed up situation drained so much energy and you couldn't cope with it any more.
"You know what (Y/N)? Let's call it a day for now."
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You were lying in your bed, constantly turning and twisting your body to find a comfortable position to sleep. But it wasn't the position which was a problem. No, your head was running wild again and you just couldn't stop the thoughts from destroying your insides.
You groaned loudly, pulling your pillow over your head in a desperate attempt to easy your brain, but it didn't help. You turned around, deciding to just stare at the ceiling for a while. You were exhausted from the constant brain activity, but sleeping was a no go.
You focused on your breathing, hoping that the steady rhythm would make you fall asleep quickly, but even that was a waste of effort. You were never going to fall asleep and you knew it. Sighing to yourself you turned again, laying on your side and staring at the white wall in front of you.
You just couldn't wrap your head around the fact how all of this could've happened in such a short period of time. A few weeks ago you were happily living inside your house together with your friends, growing up like a normal teenager would.
And now you were stuck in some sort of bunker, hiding from a few inhuman psychopaths with freaky powers. Again the main question popped up, the one you had asked yourself thousand and thousands of times over again:
Why?
All of your friends were gone, vanished from planet earth. They were probably heavily tortured right now, if not dead. You couldn't imagine the pain and suffering they were going through, while you had to wait for your share of the deal.
At this point, where you were quite vulnerable, you felt as if giving in was a reasonable option. What if you had to spent the rest of your life here, hiding in this shithole with constant security breathing in your neck? What if those 'Creepypastas' are never caught?
Then you are doomed to be stuck here for eternity, until your rotten and old. They surely wouldn't forget about you, that was one thing you were certain of. You just hoped that if they ever got their hands on you, they would show any kind of mercy.
It was then you suddenly heard that familiar screeching noise, filling your ears and bouncing off of your eardrums roughly. You jumped out of fright, nearly flying in the air as the room began to glow red. The noise became louder with the seconds, but that wasn't what caught your attention.
The alarms were going off.
Oh god! Why would they go off like that?! What is happening? Are those killers inside? Is this a training? You doubted it, they would surely tell you when they were practicing. There was only one thing you could do now. You stumbled out of the bed and ran over to the small cabinet in the room.
You roughly pulled open the drawer as you saw that familiar object lying neatly inside of it.
Your gun.
You wrapped your fingers around it, feeling the cold touch of the gun against your skin. Your own hands were sweaty making you clench the gun even tighter as you checked whether it was loaded. Of course it was but you just wanted to be sure.
Why was there no one coming in and updating you about what was going on? Or was there no one to tell you anymore? You stood there for a few minutes in silence, the raging alarm sneering through any thoughts whatsoever.
What could you do? You could check it out but was that such a smart idea? You could always stay inside this room, gun focused on the door and shoot whomever was trying to get inside to a pulp.
Stay. (look in the side menu for Stay)
Go outside. (look in the side menu for Go outside)
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Again, a decision. Choose wisely!
Hope you enjoyed!
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Taken. Jeff The Killer X Reader. Dark Story By RoverRose
FanfictionAfter a mentally deranged killer had entered your house, and you had to hide for your life, your friends all started to be taken one by one while this killer began to grow a sickening and twisted obsession over you. Who are they? And what do they wa...