Memories Lost || Alucard X Reader

The Town of Sleepy Hollow

You had thought, and hoped, the day would be normal, calm, even. Now you were going to see one of your friends, who was not calm at all.

It was early morning, a couple hours after sunrise. The perfect time for a drive. Coffee in hand, you prepared yourself for staying the night with your best friend.

As you drove, you dreamt and imagined what their house would look like. A bit spooky and old, maybe even haunted, you guessed. Your friend had moved into a town called Sleepy Hollow, like that movie town, but fewer horses and headless people riding them. You'd always tease your friend about it, though.

"Have you gone out with the horseman yet?"
"I heard headless guys are suuuper hot!"
"You should meet that headless neighbor of yours."

You didn't mind the creepy vibe or stories associated with the place. You worked as a writer, so places like these gave inspiration for your next "masterpiece" that you were sure you'd someday make.

The farther you drove into town, the more dead everything seemed. It was almost as if something living there was, well, not alive. Like something was sucking the life out of everything else, too, so it could understand.

You reached your friend's house within five minutes of entering the town line. The place was surprisingly alive, painted white and light brown, with nothing falling apart. Your friend wore a black crop top, with patch-covered skinny jeans which complimented her red hair.

"F/N!" You half yelled, half squealed in excitement.

"Y/N!" F/N screamed back.

You sprinted into your friends arms and into a tight hug, almost making them fall as the two of you spun around happily.

There were welcomes and hellos and happy squeals as you two talked. The wind began to pick up, making it far far colder than when you first came in, and you wrapped yourself up tighter in your sweater. You were welcomed into the home with pastel blue walls and white lining, stone floors clacking beneath your tennis shoes. As you began to warm up, you slid your sweater off and tied it around your waist to reveal a F/C tank top beneath it. The house only got warmer as your friend led you upstairs to where you'd be sleeping.

"You hungry Y/N? I'm about to fix myself some breakfast, I can make some for you too." F/N asked, hovering in the doorway.

"Yeah, what're you making?"

You dropped your bags by the end of the bed and plopped down next to them.

"Tacos, duh!"

"Sure, uh, call me when the food is done, I'll get myself set up here." You replied quietly, searching through the bag for your laptop.

F/N jogged downstairs, leaving you to change into actual clothing and get out your laptop. You pulled your laptop up onto the bed and placed it in front of you as you lied down to begin writing.

You ended up deciding to continue writing some short stories for a collection you were making. It was already signed, all that was left was finishing writing five or so more stories, so you planned on catching up on that while you were at your friend's place.

Half an hour later you faintly heard F/N yelling for you. You saved the file, folded your laptop up, and placed it in the bag, then hopped downstairs and into the kitchen.

"Nice outfit ya got there." F/N commented as they began eating.

"Didn't you buy this for me last Christmas?"

"That's probably why they look so good."

F/N and you wolfed down the tacos and set off for a path in the woods your friend discovered when they first moved here.

As soon as you walked in, you were shrouded in what seemed like complete darkness, thick trees surrounding you on all sides and large branches covering the sky.

The trail went straight for roughly half a mile, then turned back, making a wide u-turn back the way you came, ending only a couple houses away from the start of the trail. Of course, F/N and you had taken longer than necessary to enjoy the scenery and reference a meme or two.

Once you arrived home, right at noon, you finished off the tacos F/N didn't want and went back upstairs to finish off the story you'd started writing earlier. The rest of the day was quiet and peaceful, with F/N only coming up to tell you to sleep.

You'd left by next morning, leaving your sleeping friend with a note to tell them that you had left for home.

Once you had arrived at your house, mostly clean except for some red paint or something by the door, you walked in, picking up a note the neighbors had left for you. You guessed it was something about your lawn being too overgrown.

You sat down on the sofa to read the note, but were distracted by a thick red on the corner of the note. The same red that was by your door. A red that definitely was not paint.

You knew this handwriting. The note was from the neighbors across the street. You pocketed the note and went out the door, being extra careful to lock it before sprinting across the road despite traffic and into your neighbors unlocked door, only to be greeted by dead, blood covered bodies, with two red marks on their necks. You fumbled to grab your phone and dial nine one one, and the realization hit you.

Maybe the gossip was right about this place.

Maybe something really was wrong here.