Thomas Sanders x Reader

6

As we walked in the police department, I carried myself with confidence, hoping and praying that maybe they could tell me this was all photoshop, or really good editing. The more I thought about it, the more hopeful I became.

Thomas held my hand the whole time, which warmed me up despite the cold feeling that had been running through me since the night before. When we reached the front desk, the officer behind it asked, "What can I do for you two?"

I panicked. I couldn't do it. I wanted to force myself to just open my mouth, but it stayed shut, like my tongue had been cut out. With they way the officer stared back at me, I almost wished it had.

"I don't have time for ridiculous pranks." He stated firmly. Thomas squeezed my hand, then grabbed my phone from my pocket. He talked with the officer. I couldn't hear them. The picture was stuck in my mind, and the anonymous texts were repeating themselves, as if it were all some horrific slideshow.

Thomas grabbed my hand and slid my phone into it. "(Y/N)." He whispered into my ear. I was jerked out of the horror and was pulled back into his eyes. They offered me comfort as he informed me of what was going to happen.

They were going to take my phone as evidence-which was an expected but sad thing-and examine it for a few days. When, and if, they find anything at all, they were going to notify Thomas.

"Okay." I said back to him, looking in his eyes. God, I was so pathetic. Horribly pathetic. He was all I had now, with my brother still gone-I had no idea what I was going to do if he ever left.

The floor shook. I grabbed onto Thomas, swallowing nervously and, with my heart racing, squeaked out, "What was that?"

Thomas looked back at me, equally as horrified. The floor shook again, this time more violently. Screams followed. Loud, piercing, and and full of terror.

Thomas grabbed me by my arm and suddenly we were running, bursting out of the doors of the police department. We looked around, looking for signs of disturbance.

And disturbance there was. The adjoining police department right next door was up in flames, and a black unmarked truck was belting toward us. There was a masked man in the back of the truck, holding an RPG.

I let out a loud scream. Thomas hitched a breath, eyes widening and shaking. I wanted to cry, but there was no time. We had to run. Somewhere. Anywhere.

Away.

Thomas had the same thought, apparently, because he picked me up and began running with a speed and force I never knew possible.

Adrenaline gave people amazing abilities.

No matter how fast he ran, the truck was quicker. I gripped him tightly, head in his neck. I blocked out everything, trying as hard as possible to think straight.

If he couldn't outrun the truck, he had to out maneuver it.

"Thomas! Go left!" I shouted at him. He didn't look at me, but did as I said. The truck screeched to a halt. "Right!" I shouted again. He listened and the truck began to go in reverse.

They were going to follow us into the backyard. Crazy bastards.

"RUN THOMAS! INTO THE WOODS!" I screamed at him, panic raising in my chest. He belted toward the woods. The truck chased after us, but got wedged in between the two houses. I jumped out of Thomas' arms and forced him behind a barn.

We were safe. The truck was no longer making any noise.

Then there was a whistling. And a fizzling, like the carbonation in a pop. I gasped loudly.