Will You Trust Me? // Connor x Reader

1010 (10)

In the Night

Click...click...click...click...

Slow, padded footsteps resonated throughout the pits of Detroit--groggy alleyways filled with trashed cardboard boxes and diseased strays. You couldn't recall how you got here, but you ran. You ran towards an endless corona, hopefully a means to an end. You ditched your high heels several miles ago after you had twisted your ankle in a desperate attempt to escape from your captors. Who they were, you had no idea. They were faceless figures wearing nothing but high-class business wear, but you knew they were dangerous.

The corona seemed to appear farther and farther the longer you ran. You were no android, therefore you couldn't run for miles on end without taking a breath. Humans are breathless beings with no means to escape their undeniable fates. You knew that better than anyone. You were the one running for the safety of your own life, after all.

Your mind was driving you crazy. Dull, red scabs and puncture wounds crawled up your arms and legs the longer you ran. Not only that, but the slower you ran, the more painful they became. You couldn't hold out any longer. You collapsed as your wounds claimed the last bit of your conscious, and you made every attempt to pull your own hair out. It came out in matted chunks, letting it slip through your cold, cracked fingers. Tears of agony ran down your face as you stared up into the abyss of the corona, knowing that you could never make it even if you tried.

Click...click...click...click...

It was far too late to try, now. The shoes of your pursuers stood near your crumpled up body, their faceless expressions glaring into your bones and through the length of your spine. They spoke in tongues you couldn't understand, a beautiful lyric of European phrases meeting your ears in a blissful kiss. The kiss ended in savagery, a bitter war between your body and a substance too foul for your organs to handle. A prickling sensation violated your jugular, and you saw Death appear before you donned in the suit of your captors. He took your hand, kissed you on the mouth, and led you into the great corona.

--

Cold sweats, hot flashes of white lights, heavy breathing, a thirst for cold water from the kitchen sink-- all of these were symptoms of the manic dream you had experienced just moments ago. Your hands flew up towards the top of your head and frantically ran themselves down your body to check for any physical signs of what had just occurred. The only symptom that had passed over from the dream world into the real one was your undeniable quench for water. Cold, cold water that would make the dryness in your throat disappear.

You got up in a rush, ignoring your sudden headache and dizziness that appeared after taking your first few steps out of bed. You were on a mission, and nothing was going to stop you from accomplishing it. Once you stepped foot into the kitchen, you grabbed the first glass you saw and filled it with a reasonable amount of water from the sink. Yeah it was tap water, but it was all you had. You weren't a millionaire, you were a police officer.

As you reached the end of your first glass of cold sink water, you heard your front door suddenly open and close in one fluid motion. You were already jittery from your dream, and the noise of the door slamming shut caused you to scream out in fear. You dropped the cup on the floor, little glass pieces shattering against the ceramic tiles in an instant.

You didn't care about who or what was at the door. All you cared about was what little sanity you had left, and how it all had shattered along with the glass cup that now lie dismantled on your kitchen floor. You put your back against the front surface of the stove, sinking down onto the floor with your knees curled up against your chest. Your emotions took control of all you had left, and you cried heavily into your arms.