Call Me Insane (Wilford Warfstache X Reader)

Chapter 5 - Chicken Noodle Soup

Humor me, mysterious man. Let your names disappear and come to me without a mask. Humor me, fallen one. Let your hidden dreams and visions find their way. Let yourself rise up towards the sun. For you sit, hidden in the moonlight, cowering in the darkest corners of the night.

My eyes open suddenly staring at a blank ceiling above me. I sit up quick to find myself on the couch. I must have fallen asleep. My heart leaps with further thoughts. It must have been a dream. A small smile forms on my face for a moment. All that happened was in my head! It was fake! All fake! It was only my imagination! But my smile quickly disappears. I realize I still had a problem on my hands. I am still his next victim. And that wasn't imaginary. That...was real.

-

I sit at my office desk, tapping my fingers against the aging wood. What was I to do? The boss hasn't shown his face today and he stayed in his office, looking through the blinds. I observe the workers around me, myself. Do they all know this horrible man? What he has done to people? What he is planning next? Judging on the way they looked at their computers, some bored out of their minds watching the clock, I come to the conclusion they know nothing. Because if they have, they wouldn't have empty expressions. They would be constantly moving, eyes darting. They would be on edge of their seat, heads shooting to the door every time someone walked in. Like me.

The clock strikes 2 pm and I have yet to eat lunch. But I don't want to go out alone. I feel safe around people. Especially people who have experience in defense. Those I have known and sometimes make side conversation with. So I sit with an empty stomach, looking to other cases as I wait for an update on my priority. It seems like seconds pass in hours and I find my tired eyes starting to shut. Maybe a five minute nap would be nice. Yes....Only five minutes....

"Ms. (Y/L/N)."

I jump to my name and look up fast to see a woman standing in front of my desk.

"I'm sorry to startle you. But I wanted to let you know that someone has brought you lunch. They claim they are a friend?"

A friend?

"What did they bring?"

"Chicken noodle soup in a thermal."

She raises a yellow bag to me and I take hold of it.

"Thank you."

The woman nods and leaves. I look into the bag and grab the warm thermal. It was a shiny, stainless silver that had a fantastic smell to it. I hesitate in opening it and when I do, the smell becomes stronger. I notice the pink note immediately on the inside of the cap and my stomach twists. How did I know that the "friend" would be him?

Enjoy dear. I made it special for you. Did I mess with it? Poison? you may ask. Oh my, Madame. How could you even think that? I simply wanted you to enjoy this. It looks like you weren't going to be eating lunch so I stepped in and made you something delicious. Please. Eat. Your life depends on it.

A shiver runs down my spin. My life. Eating this depends on my life. I hesitantly grab a plastic spoon that was equipped with the soup and dip it into the thermal. How does he know everything about me? How does he see my every move? How? How is this all possible? What if I don't eat this? What if I just push it aside and not obey to his every wish? And why does he care?

Too many questions appear in my head. I stare at my spoon, steam going into the air from the salty broth. I find myself raising the spoon to my lips. Why? Why must I eat the spoils of my enemy?

First bite.

Why? Why must he care if I eat or not?

Second bite.

The warm liquid trails passed my cracked lips and down my throat.

Third bite.

Soon it was gone...And now I'm hoping to the heavens that it was poisoned.
Because this hell will only get worse.