A New Fascination || Masky x Reader

Chapter 8

          Over the course of the next few nights, you'd hardly been able to sleep. The hospital was eerie and it sent chills down your spine with each creak of the building or a groan from another patient. You wished your mother was here. She always stayed behind to comfort you.

You remembered when you were twelve and you'd gotten appendicitis. You were stuck in the hospital for two weeks after the surgery. Your mother stayed with you everyday and night, making sure you were comfortable. She was a good woman and an even better mom. Your mother was really young when she had you. She was only eighteen. But she was always a good mom to you.

You'd always asked her about your dad, whom you've never met before. She never answered. She always said simply, "he was a terrible man, (Y/n). You don't ever want to meet him." When you were ten, you finally got the hint that she was never going to tell you much about him, and you eventually gave up. But you always had that nagging feeling, wishing she'd told you a little more about him before she died.

It was another lonely night, no one there to comfort you. You stared out the hospital window, out at the empty streets, which were illuminated by the street lights and moonlight. You sighed and looked up at the shining moon. It always comforted you, even if it was just a little. Lately, it seemed to be the only thing that was ever there for you.

You heard your hospital door creak open. Your head snapped around. Oddly, you werent at all surprised when a certain man entered, though he was now wearing a white mask. He shut the door behind him and pulled out a pack of cigarettes. He took off his mask. "I knew you'd be awake." He said, pulling out a cigarette and casually lighting it.

The man sat in the seat beside the hospital bed. He crossed his legs and leaned back, blowing out a puff of smoke. You coughed slightly. "The name's Masky. That's the only name you'll call me by." He said. Without thinking, you muttered a, "fitting name considering what your wearing."

Of course he heard you. Masky chuckled. "I suppose so." He said, then went silent. You didn't want to be the one to break the silence. Despite the fact that the man sitting beside you was a killer, you felt more comfortable and less lonely with him sitting beside you. After all, the last four nights had been spent completely alone, in an old hospital. Frankly, you were just glad you weren't completely alone anymore.

Finally, Masky sighed. "Why are you awake in the first place?" He asked. "I could ask you the same thing." You replied without thinking. He chuckled. "Oh, cocky, are we? Hmm, touché, (Y/n)." He smirked. "I can't sleep," you said, "this hospital is creepy. I've always been slightly afraid of hospitals. But..." You paused, not sure if you should say anything else. "Never mind..." You sighed.

Masky blew out another puff of smoke. "But what?" He asked. "Nothing." You stated, trying to end the conversation right there. Obviously Masky wasn't planning on letting it go. "You always had someone there with you, didn't you?" He questioned. "I'm assuming it was your mother, before she died, that is. What about your father? You said you didn't know where he was."

You clenched your fists. "No, I don't. And I've never met him. I've always only had my mother." You snapped, patients thinning. Masky chuckled. "Calm down, Miss (L/n)," he leaned forward, smirking.

Masky stood up, straightening his jacket and grabbing his mask. "I'll be back tomorrow." He said. You hesitated. "Please come at night," you said. He paused, then looked at you with a raised brow and slight smirk. "Night, eh?" He asked, obviously having a different idea. Your face lit up crimson. "N-Not like that! I-I just don't like hospitals and—"

Masky chuckled and removed the cigarette from his mouth. "Yeah, I'll come back tomorrow night, (Y/n)." He popped the cigarette between your lips and turned toward the door. He shot you a simple wave over his shoulder. "Goodbye, Miss (L/n)." He said, before exiting the room and shutting the door behind him.

You pulled the cigarette from between your lips, coughing. You stuck it in the glass of water on the nightstand, putting it out, before throwing it in the trashcan. You wiped the terrible taste from your lips and laid in the bed. You felt better. In the last few weeks, your life had gone downhill. But now, you felt like someone was actually going to be there for you...