Another Infected Found (Tim/Masky X Reader X Alex Kralie)

Chapter Twenty-Four

The wooden door closed eerily as (Y/n) slumped behind the door. She had been away from home, in hopes of hiding from the outcome of her rage back in the alley. However, much as she predicted, the police were still in investigation. Still looking for a suspect, for her. Yet, they have two possible suspects. Fortunately, they weren't her. However, there's no hope is the paranoia and little relief about the situation.
        "I start hearing things, seeing things after the car crash. Meet two fucks up. One fuck up I'm so confused on -is he a thief? Or a romantic? And now I'm seeming like a damn teenager again-," she bared her teeth. "Then! The other fuck up I'm going to fucking end! All this, and I have the mind to say, "Oh, I'm angry, let me kill someone!?" She knew what her rampage was triggered by- her dead brother of course- but it didn't in any way or form, to seem sensible to kill someone to her.
        (Y/n) sighed then barked, "I hate this!" she slouched against the door until she was sitting on the floor. Her hands entangled with her (h/c) hair. "I hate this! I hate this! I hate this!" She repeated until it died down into the bothering silence.
        "Lost my family, lost two jobs, lost everything. Bills aren't paid and I'm making excuses out of no where. I hate this. I'm tired of this."
        (Y/n) stayed at the door, her eyes had soon closed and she slept. Slept undisturbed, but with dreams full of anger.

        "(Y/n)?" A cheerful, smiling man placed an old photo album down on a coffee table. However, he cringed as he tried to get up, pain shooting through his lungs.
        "Ya, Dad?" (Y/n) called from the kitchen.
        "Can you come here? I need some help," he replied.
        "Sure thing!" (Y/n) quickly came in and helped her father up.
        Her father mumbled a thank you and then shook his head in disbelief,"The cancer's killing me. Been through one war, almost died various times in my life, and cancer kills me. Dang," her father frowned.
        "Dad, don't say that. You'll be fine-"
        He interrupted," I don't need someone tellin' me that I'm going to be fine, I've been at this too long. Five years and somehow it hasn't gotten to my head."
        (Y/n) frowned, knowing very well, that it has already started going to his head from his latest treatment. He knows to, just forgotten it. Soon dementia was bound to kick in.
        "Ay, Dad, at least remember that we're going to Universal Studios soon, so you got that."
        "True, and it's a blessing you're willing to take me. (Y/n), just promise me you won't take me to a retirement home. Anything but that!" Her father replied, then changed the topic on what rides are at the theme park. (Y/n) would listen on and on, however she always noticed how he kept changing. His breathing was in rasp and his voice was just above whispering. He was very fragile now.
        "Dad, don't worry about going to a retirement home," she said to him, breaking his chain of talking.
        "I thought we were talking about theme parks."
        "Ah, we were, sorry, continue," she said, listening to her Dad talk again.

        (Y/n) awoke still at the door, she stood up, remembering the memory of her dream. It felt so real, like her father was there with her again. However, he's gone. So was her mother. So was her brother. "I'm alone," (Y/n) whispered, depressingly.         
        As if on cue, a familiar ringtone played in her pocket. Reflexively, she pulled out her phone. "Alex!?" she almost yelled at the phone contact. Curious though and angrily, she accepted the call. However, it immediately had turned off. Oddly, (Y/n) had already blocked his number. So, him being able to call without her going to straight to voicemail was odd.
      "Odd...," she mumbled, setting her phone down. (Y/n) stood still in the room, looking around. She felt alone. Felt lonely. It wasn't always like this. Being alone in her small home. When she moved here, she was accustomed to being alone, it made her happy. (Y/n) typically fancied being alone to herself, to her thoughts. Mainly for her dislike to people.
        Yet, she did enjoy being alone, but she didn't fancy being lonely.
        The house itself gave off pessimistic vibes: loneliness, unsafe, and a paranoia feeling. However, it's what she done to create it that way. I mean, killing someone, police still searching, It will do that. On that matter, it was an idiotic move to go back to the town.
        After a couple of minutes of standing around, (Y/n) went off to do something "productive": just pick up around the home.Ding! (Y/n) checked her phone and stared in disbelief. Alex sent a text.
        "Rosswood @12pm"
        "What the hell?" (Y/n) began to reply.
        "Go to hell" Straight to the point.
        (Y/n) knew she wouldn't allow herself to go there, but she had a curious side. Wait, he could be there! He could be there! It was her chance. (Y/n) eyed the gun on the table. Oh, she's going.
        "You're going to hell, Kralie."
(So, hope you like the new cover! Hope ya enjoyed! Welcome for feedback!)