True Ending |The Evil Within x Reader|

Ch. 6: Allies and Enemies

You slid down the wall a bit, feeling dust scatter underneath your hands. The man stood there, letting you take in what he'd done. You looked left and right, no longer recognizing your surroundings. Somehow, you'd been transported into a room with fanciful furniture. The furniture was torn and dusty, but you could tell it must've been expensive, looking at it's Victorian appearance. Your breathing continued in a shallow rhythm, your chest tightening with what felt like a lack of oxygen. But if you take your usual deep breaths, he'll know your... scared. His presence was demanding and intimidating, with burns and stitches covering various areas of his torso and face. Your eyes scanned him as he stood there unfazed, waiting for your reaction.

You finally look back into his eyes and try to take a dry gulp before speaking. "You must be Ruvik. I've huh-- heard many things about you." Your voice cracked for a moment. "I mean, not like, really bad things just um, that I've seen some of your memories before?" You're already getting weird, but you can still save this. "So how'd you get those scars?" Oh my God. "Not that you have to tell me! I was just--"

"Stop."

"Okay." You replied curtly in response to him. He backed up a few steps, his eyes locked into yours with the icy glare you'd felt before. It was his turn to scan you, somewhat curiously. Almost as though he wanted to say something important, but wouldn't.

"Do you know where you're at." His voice was deep, and a little slow. You adjusted yourself up against the wall, and began tip toeing to the side, eyeing the door behind Ruvik.

"Where? I... guess... inside your home."

"Do you know why you're here." His questions felt like statements, he put no exaggeration into his words. Ruvik continued to watch you slowly shift your way around him, turning only slightly along with your position.

"Because you took me...? Though, from what I'm aware of, you mostly pester Castellanos...."

"Pester..." He repeated quietly to himself. "Regardless, if you're not aware why, then that's fine. In fact, that makes it more interesting. I asked you this before, and I'll say it again. Wouldn't you rather be on your own? What do the others mean to you."

You furrowed your eyebrows and looked at him, trying not to say anything through your expressions. "What? I don't know... why would you say that?"

"I need you for something, at the moment." Your stress levels are increasing a mile a minute, but you remained as composed as you could, finally on the other side of Ruvik and backing up to the door. Why has he not stopped you? There's no way he wouldn't have noticed by now-- whOA HOly FUCK? As you were stepping back, your foot stepped on a metallic object, triggering a barbwire trap that wrapped itself around your right leg. You struggled to set yourself free, making the wire dig into your leg and begin to tear apart the bandage you had on it previously. Once you realized this, you stopped and went to the ground, sitting with your weight to your left. You let out a quick, quiet whimper as you looked at the trap on your leg, unsure of how to get it off.

You heard Ruvik take slow, methodical steps towards you. As you looked up to him, he spoke. "Got that straight from The Keeper." Who? What an ironic name, considering... "You'll be staying here. For how long, that's really up to your... fellow STEM-mates. Struggle more, and you'll bleed more. Understand?" You're no longer keeping your breath shallow, your breaths are audible and shaky as you nod. He kneels down in front of you, your head turns downward as you avoid eye contact. "You are here, because you're different." His hand grabs your right leg, the barbwire goes deeper into your leg and you yelp whilst his gaze doesn't move from your face. You feel blood openly pour down your leg as you turn to look at the damage. You see his hand shake slightly, and Ruvik releases his grip to show you his hand. He's bleeding, a red so deep it appears black. You look down to your leg, and see a matching color to his, coming out of you. You let out a sharp gasp. "Perhaps they sent you here for me to figure out why. My blood is black. Yours..." With the same bleeding hand, his fingertips wipe some of the blood off your shin and he rubs it between his thumb and index finger. "...I'm sure is actually ink. It could be your mind didn't transfer in correctly, however, that's not likely. Such an event wouldn't give you ink for blood anyway."