{A/N} The end of |Plaything| is coming up in a couple chapters! That means that I'm taking requests for new books to write. If you guys have any ideas that you'd like to give me, then that'd be super appreciated. All the fandoms I specialize in should be in my bio, but if you have an idea that isn't there, still feel free to request it.
When Anti finishes, he says that he's got a couple people to torture and disappears. Some of his knives stay littered across the table. After he's gone, I look over them, admiring the craftsmanship and originality. I decide to make myself a snack, and watch a random movie on Netflix. It's boring, but I was bored already so that's not really a change.
During the window of time, I wonder what keeps Anti interested in staying here. I'm not especially interesting. Besides, he hasn't tried anything else. After he switched from fear to flustering, he doesn't seem to want to change his strategy. Since it's not working, anymore, wouldn't he want to adjust? Maybe he's just given up. But still, why would he want to stay if he can't mess with my head as much?
I frown in thought, completely confused. It makes no sense, I think.
As the movie is ending, Anti reappears. I look up at him.
"I thought you had multiple people to kill."
"Just came back to clean off some of my stuff."
He takes a moment to wipe off the blades. As he prepares to leave again, I stop him:
"Can I come with you?"
Anti turns to me with a look of surprise and hesitates. I assume he'll say "no" and that he doesn't want me there. Eventually, however, he nods and I'm transported from my house along with him.
We appear in a stranger's house. It's actually pretty nice. The furniture looks mildly expensive, the room is massive and opens up into an equally massive hallway leading to equally massive rooms, and I can see a giant backyard through the tall windows. Whoever this person is, they're loaded.
Anti leads me down the hallway to a set of double doors. The house is a bit old fashioned and still has the ancient keyholes under the doorknob. I kneel and peer through, finding a ginormous bedroom with what I can only assume is a California king bed in the center against the far wall. A man lays on the bed, sleeping fitfully. The blinds are shut and only dim light seeps through to illuminate the room.
I take a step back as Anti opens the door and we walk inside. He snaps his fingers and the room instantly fills with a dark green mist that blots out the majority of what little light there was. Then, I move out of sight, hiding from the sleeping man amongst the thick smoke that surrounds us. I stand near the right wall, with the bed on the wall to the right of me and the wall with the door to my left.
The man's nightmare seems to intensify, getting worse and worse until he finally jolts up with a start. When his eyes adjust, they land on a smiling Anti. The man's face pales considerably. I can't help but smile to myself, sitting on a cushioned armchair and getting comfortable. Involuntarily, I flick open my pocketknife and fiddle with it while watching the man cower before Anti.
"What do you want from me?" the man questions.
I stifle a laugh. What a dumb question, I think.
"Your fear," Anti answers, casually. "Maybe a bit of your blood, too."
The man stands and begins to back away from him. Anti only pays attention to what he can see, but I can tell that the guy's probably up to something. Thus, I watch his hands – which are behind him and out of Anti's sight – carefully. Anti approaches him, swinging a machete in his right hand.
"Hmm... What will I take as a souvenir?" he thinks aloud.
My eyes wander from the man's hands for an instant and scan the room. I notice a painting hanging on the wall that's heavily inspired by Van Gough.
What about an ear? I think at Anti.
His eyes flick to the painting for an almost undetectable instant before returning to the man's frightened features. His smile grows as we agree on his souvenir.
I only glance at it, though, as my eyes find the man reaching behind him for the handle of a drawer. It interests me, but I stay silent. From the drawer, he retrieves a small seemingly loaded revolver. My eyes widen as he slowly closes the drawer and cocks the gun.
"Is this another nightmare?" he asks.
"Heh, you wish," Anti replies.
Without thinking, my hand shoots up and my decent knife throwing abilities take over. Just as the man is pulling his hand up to shoot Anti, I chuck the knife at his left temple. Before he can even fire a shot, the knife has wedged itself in his head and he drops to the ground. My tunnel vision dissipates and the weight of what I'd done hits me.
"I just saved you a lot of trouble," I pipe up dryly. Anti is completely frozen, staring at me with clear shock. "Also," I continue, "I just killed a guy. Should I be concerned about that? Probably not."
Anti blinks and jars himself from his state of befuddlement. He walks over to the man – who's still breathing lightly, but definitely unconscious – on the ground and gazes at the knife lodged in his head. Blood gurgles from the wound and trickles down the man's head. I walk forward, stare at the man for a moment, then quickly take my weapon and turn away from the corpse.
"Hey, can we leave now? I feel kinda uncomfortable in the same room as this thing."
Anti transports us back to the house. Though we're away from the room, he still remains silent. After a minute, he speaks up:
"You just killed that guy..."
"Yup."
"...without a second thought..."
"Uh-huh."
"...to stop him from shooting me?"
"That's the long and short of it."
Another bought of silence surrounds us. Anti stares at me while I look back up at him with a blank expression, albeit slightly uncomfortable. To break the silence, I begin to talk again:
"So..."
"You've murdered your first victim!"
He's suddenly perfectly fine – joyous, even – and picks me up into a hug. This time, I'm the one who's surprised. When I finally wrestle out of his arms, I look up at him questioningly.
"What?"
"Baker was you're first nightmare. This guy was your first kill."
"And that's... good?"
"Of course."
Exasperated and giving up on understanding Anti's logic, I shrug and let him pull me over to him again. He continues to gloat over his progress with me as I use his already-bloodied knife cleaning rag (which was left on the table) to wipe off my own pocketknife. Suddenly, Anti lifts my chin so that I'm looking him in the eyes and quickly pulls me into a kiss. I drop my knife in surprise, but I'm still used to this type of action from him and don't pull away. In fact, I nearly kiss him back. I just barely stop myself, but Anti undoubtedly notices, smirking and prolonging the contact.
When he pulls away, he causes my pocketknife – which fell to the floor – to fly upward and into his hand. Then, he hands it to me.
"We'll work on your murder strategies." Anti begins to walk away, preparing to leave to torture his next victim.
"I don't know if I want to," I call after him. He only laughs as he disappears in a swirl of dark green smoke.
I hope you enjoyed this chapter of "Plaything" as much as I enjoyed writing it. Comments and votes are super appreciated. Thanks for reading! ~Blue
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| Plaything | Antisepticeye x Reader
Fanfiction{COMPLETED} This Reader is basically the same as the first book (Darkiplier x Reader) I wrote. Same general world, but the story itself will be original. The events in my first book haven't happened in this universe. Still no smut. Again, I'll try...
