My Special Little Friend Forever (Jason The Toymaker x Reader) *DISCONTINUED*

Chapter 11

WARNING: There are a few swear words and graphic descriptions.

My mom is hanging by her hair maybe an inch or two away from me, her pink face scrunched up in pain and agony but not just from being held by her hair: there's a gaping hole in her left shoulder and her left arm is reduced to a bloody mess of meat, veins, and arteries still uselessly pumping blood to a non-existent arm.

She screamed at me to run but I can't move my legs, it's like I forgot how to move my legs. I can't do anything but watch this gruesome picture from hell. I suddenly realize who is putting my mom through such torture right in front of me.

His tall figure looms above my mom and I and he seems... furious. His glowing green eyes full of such viciousness it feels like he's trying to set me on fire using his mind. He puts his hand into his pocket and pulls out a red mouse. His deep frown suddenly forms into a sick smile as he sets the mouse gently on my mom's right shoulder.

With a quick boom and a long, horrendous scream I uncover my eyes and realize that Mom's right shoulder was blown to pieces with the majority of her arm lying on the floor. Another scream rings throughout the air as Mom looks at me one last time before blood loss finally sends her away to another world where I can't reach her.

That last scream turns out to have been my own and another rushes out of my throat as the man who looked so familiar throws Mom aside like some doll and he walks so calmly to me. Mom skids a little then lies on the floor as a puddle of her own blood forms around her, blood no longer being pumped through her heart.

I try to walk back but I'm too slow and he grabs my forearm. Then I recall exactly where I had seen him before: my dreams. How could I have not remembered him sooner; my horrible nightmares centered around him. His horrible laughter, those hauntingly realistic eyes that were in the sockets of those dolls, and the voices of children... No, former children.

He smiles as if he knows I remember him, at least somewhat, now and he pulls me forward with such force that I feel a blossom of pain bloom in my shoulder. I grunt in pain and the smile he's been wearing grew to show teeth that were more like razors. He grabs my hair earning another hiss of pain.

He looks down at me with malice then speaks with a voice that sends shivers all throughout my body, "Is this any way to greet your best friend?" His grip on me tightened at the last two words. I could only stare at him in complete confusion.

"Wh... What?" I could barely keep my voice above a whisper.

"I am your friend, right?" His grip just kept getting tighter. 'Friend?? His friend?? He wants me to be his friend???' The more time passed the stronger his grip became until I was seriously afraid I was going to lose my arm. Be his friend? What was the other choice, death? Torture? A fucking one way trip to Hell?

I gulped, "Y-yeah, mhm. S-s-sure, fr-friends." I could barely stop shaking from fear, no, terror. Was that the same thing? Yeah, it was but fuck it, my mind is racing.

He could tell how utterly terrified I was and smoldered his smile to a small grin, satisfied. His eyes stopped glowing and put on the more calming color of amber with hints of green. His grip loosened a little but not enough for me to have a chance of running. His hand reached forward to where I was slumped up against the wall and the creaking of a knob could be heard.

"Good." His eyes never leaving mine he took a step forward, signaling me to take a step back. I did until I felt the wall touched my calves but not my back. He turned me around to face a blue, open doorway that had magically appeared in the wall. It reminded me of an attic door except smaller and painted blue with a few spots peeling here and there. I got the impression that I was supposed to crawl into the doorway, but he was still holding onto my arm. Then I heard a whisper in my ear, "If you try to run away, I will find you then I'll fix you up." He giggled and let go of me, allowing me to enter the doorway.