hobo heart x reader. Perhaps we value each other?

Chapter 4

That was the last thing I heard before a sudden, sickening tear exploded behind my breastbone, and a blinding wave of white-hot agony forcefully dragged me into the dark.

When my eyes finally flutter open again, the dizzying pound in my skull makes the entire room tilt and spin. I blink heavily, trying to clear the thick haze from my vision, and slowly realize I'm still trapped here in his subterranean nightmare. But the suffocating leather straps are gone; I'm no longer pinned down to the table. Desperate to escape, I try to force my torso upward, but a colossal, blinding shockwave of raw agony hits me like a high-speed train wreck. The sheer mechanical failure of my own body forces a sharp, ragged scream from my throat, and I collapse back onto the cold surface, trembling and gasping for air.

"What the—!?"

His rough, raspy voice cuts violently through the dim room from somewhere deep down the hall.

I hear the frantic sound of rapid, heavy boots sprinting toward the threshold, followed by a small, chaotic skid as he violently rounds the brick corner. "How the hell are you..." Hobo Heart trails off, his voice dropping into a register of pure, unadulterated shock as he approaches the edge of the table. He leans directly over my face, his piercing, crystal-clear blue eyes locking tightly onto mine before he begins frantically examining my expression, his hands twitching at his sides. He steps away for a short, panicked moment, his mind clearly struggling to process the impossible sight in front of him.

"Can you hear me?" he asks, his tone taut, sharp, and laced with a terrifying edge.

"Y-yeah," I manage to choke out past my dry, bleeding lips.

"Can you see things?" another rapid-fire, breathless question.

My head is spinning so violently I feel entirely detached from reality. "Yeah."

"Ok." He walks back over to my side, picking up a large object from a nearby tray, though I can't quite make out its shape through the dark haze blurring my sight. "Can you move?"

"N-no." Just forcing the words past my mouth is taking every single shred of life I have left, and my entire body is freezing, bone-deep cold.

"Good." His voice drops instantly, turning just as icy and ruthless as the air in the room. "I can tell you can barely talk, so I shouldn't have to worry about you screaming."

The statement leaves me completely paralyzed with confusion, until he lifts the heavy object—a large, polished glass mirror—and holds it directly over my torso. I look up into the reflection, and my eyes widen in a state of sheer, blood-chilling terror.

My chest was completely ripped open. My skin had been peeled back like the pages of a book, leaving my glistening, dark organs hanging out on display over the edges of the wound. Several of my ribs were snapped and visibly missing from the cavity, but what absolutely stopped my breath was the empty, hollow black void sitting right in the center of my mangled torso. My heart was entirely gone. There was nothing but a bloody, hollow cavern where my pulse used to be.

I stare in absolute horror, tears spilling over my temples, as Hobo Heart lets out a low, sadistic chuckle at my discovery before abruptly removing the mirror from my sight.

"This confuses me," he says bluntly, crossing his scarred arms over his chest. "You see, as a human... Uhh... You are human, right?" He pauses, leaning down to look at me with an expression that is slightly concerned, but mostly disturbed.

"A-as far as I know," I whisper, a wet cough rattling in my throat. God, absolutely everything hurts.

"Ok," he continues, his brilliant blue eyes narrowing into slits as he hovers right over my face. His gaze isn't just looking at me anymore; it feels like he's looking straight through my empty chest, desperately hunting for an answer that defies biology. "As a human, this should be physically impossible. I should know, I've done this exact harvest many times before. But... you seem to be an exception. How the hell you are still breathing with no heart completely baffles me. I'll have to consult with the Operator as to why this is happening."

He paces away from the table, letting out a sharp, frustrated sigh into the gloom. "NO, that won't work. He explicitly told me to get rid of you, not take you in and experiment. Maybe... maybe I could go to him... No, that won't work either." A loud, violent crash echoes through the cellar as he punches the brick wall in pure frustration, cracking the stone. "DAMN IT! Why did you have to live!? AND HOW!?"

I hear a furious, animalistic growl vibrating in his words, followed by a couple of deep, heavy breaths as he tries to rein in his explosive temper.

"I'll just have to call in a favor," he mutters, a dark, opportunistic realization suddenly settling into his voice. "Yes... yes. That could work. I think he would thoroughly enjoy the free meal, too." He lets out a cold, chilling laugh that makes my skin crawl, and his heavy footsteps rapidly fade away as he walks out of the cellar, leaving me alone in the freezing dark.

My head is spinning and pounding, a chaotic, agonizing mess as my brain desperately tries to process the nightmare. My heart is entirely missing. My insides are now on the outside. Everything hurts.

My mind frantically pieces together his panicked ramblings. 'Operator' has to be Slenderman. The second one he hinted at could have been the demonic presence of Zalgo. As for the 'free meal' part... that could only mean Eyeless Jack. A sudden wave of paralyzing dread washes over me. If Jack smells the raw blood leaking from my open torso or sees me split apart like this, it will be over in a second—not that my life isn't already ruined. I am literally surviving without a heart.

What does that make me? Am I a zombie? Am I still human? Am I immortal?

My head hurts far too much to continue fighting the shadows. I think... I think I'll just take a nap. My heavy eyelids slowly slide shut, and I willingly let myself get swallowed by the thick, comforting darkness of a dreamless sleep.