Banana Bus Imagines Fanfiction

Territorial Part 2

Delirious x Brooke

Brooke's POV

Light was filtered by dusty and old lace curtains, creating a flourishing stream of autumn sunlight along paneled walls. The familiar scent of an old house coming back to me, reminding me when I'd stay at my grandma's house... back when everything was normal.

How long have I been awake? How long has my blurred blank mind been focused on the unfamilar ceiling? I swore I was hearing very loud foot steps coming from other rooms. It took almost all of my energy to look away from the relaxing ceiling, noticing a white vanity& chair, white dresser, the bed frames were white painted metal, the floor brown wood and rough. A feminine touch of floral accent, obviously this room has not been associated with years.

My head hurt from just observing where I was.  It was relaxing. I wanted to sleep again, forever this time. But those heavy footsteps had been distracting from a eternity of never waking up.

In honesty, I do not remember anything, and my head hurt. Remembering just my grandma and playing on the overweeded rusted swingset near her house. I was a child back then, maybe 4-5?

I heard a screen door shut and then the complete silence that came after it. I lifted myself on my elbows and shifted up. I was sore for some reason, head aching. Bandaged up. Someone had took care of whatever wounds I had.

Just in a tank top and yoga shorts. I noticed a hoodie hanging off the back of the vanity chair, assuming it had been mine, I'd put it on out of comfort, not before observing myself within the mirror first.

A fresh gauze was taped to my forehead, lip was bruised significantly. And there had been a fine inflammed line that stung at my neck, between my breasts, and to my hip. Finally I slipped the thick hoodie on, noticing the chilly air for lack of heat.

Glancing around, looking for anything to help, I had found faded old photographs. It was a family, mainly a girl in her late Teens, which must've been her room. Another picture with her and a little boy smiling happily as they seemed to be playing outside.

'Isabelle & Jonathan,
Paleto House 1990'

They seem happy.

After taking sometime observing the photographs, I decided to gently open the door of the room, peaking out in a narrow hallway that had fancy candle sconces dressing by every door. Down the hall led to the stairs which the front door could be seen down at the first floor. The floor below me creeked as I would weakly waddle my way down. Attempting to be as quiet as I could even if I knew it did not matter.

"H-Hello... ?" I called out once letting my feet rest on the last step. The windows curtains had been open, allowing a warm sunlight to engulf the old styled house. It was beautiful as sad that it had been the furniture was unused, eerily lacking life of any sort.

I felt dizzy though, something had been wrong, and it was hard to pinpoint what, but I stumbled to the kitchen anyway. Outside the birds could be heard chirping, signaling an early bright morning, that theory to be correct as I looked over at a wall clock that ticked almost as if it was about to stop any moment.

Suddenly, my gaze went vertigo, and I fell forth against the counter at attempt to stabilize myself but only weakly fell to the kitchen tile. Attempting to lift myself up, I'd only fall down again.. But this time I heard the front screen door open.

Soon, I felt arms around me, pulling me up while my mind was fuzzy and light headed.

"The hell..." I heard a man state with an utmost  clumsy deep voice. I tried to stand up but soon just felt my legs be scooped up with his other arm. Being carried bridal style back up the stairs, I'd just observe the mask he wore, mind a bit blank on what was going on. He didn't mean no harm and smelled of the woods.

I was soon set gently down on the same bed, my head propped against the pillows. "W-Who are you...?"

I'd watch the man in a blue hoodie go to the vanity to open the drawer and pull out a wrap of gauze. Just then I'd notice the trail of blood going down my head and jaw. My wound must've opened when I fell.

He pulled off the bloodied gauze and and replaced it, working slowly at the side of my bed. His brown eyes focused. His mask was old and dirtied, but gave a very feel of nostalgia. I swore I saw it before.

He was also very tall and well built.

Finally, he got the bandage back on before wiping the remaining blood off with his sleeve.  That is when his eye locked down with mine, a very serious stare, as if he was trying to validate me.

"Delirious. Call me Delirious." He took a step back and took the seat at the vanity.

"O-Oh.. D-Delirious?"

"What do you want?"

"Where am I? And, Why am I here?"

He took a moment of thought before saying anything, but then explained the whole to story. Leaving out the part where my friends were.

"T-That really happened?"

"Yup."

"Where is everyone else?"

"Dead, Brooke." The man giggled with a psychotic laughter. Leaving me in a confused state on if he was joking or not. But truthfully I didn't even remember their names, let alone what they looked like, so oddly, it didn't bother me.

I had so many more questions..

What did he mean by that laugh?
Why was he wearing that mask?
Was there anyone else here?
What was his real name?
Where did he get that mask?
And
What was the plan ...?
Would I be staying here? Or would he let me go?

But I felt as if even if I did ask, I'd get nothing but misdirect answers.

So, I relaxed back in the bed, letting my legs curl a bit tighter against my stomach.

"I like your mask.. It reminds me of one I saw a long time ago."

"Oh, yeah?"

I'd nod quietly, feeling a bit tired still, I felt my eyes droop sleepily. After a bit, the comfortable silence was over when he got up and left, softly shutting the door behind him.

I shifted and pulled the covers over me, he was okay with me sleeping in a couple more hours right?