Delirium (Creepypasta x reader)

•6•

This chapter includes: Violence, gore, animal death, and the realistic depiction of a panic attack. To skip this, press ctrl+F and search for "Hours earlier", which will skip all of what is mentioned above.

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Blood dripped steadily from your forehead onto your lap, coating your legs in splashes of crimson. It was warm, and sticky, and made your legs feel disgusting.

You were sluggish, straining to keep your eyelids open. You were tired, so tired. Your body ached with pain, and as you peered around, your surroundings took shape.

You were sitting in a chair, wrists strapped to the arms and ankles strapped together. A single light flickered above you, a bare bulb swinging gently, illuminating a small circle of floor around you. The boards were old, and some looked rotten, filling your nose and mouth with the suffocating smell of decay. There was a rustling in the shadows just outside the bulbs reach, a shuffling of bodies. You looked around, leaning from side to side to try to discern a shape in the darkness, something to make familiar, to stop the terror coursing in your veins.

Something in the dark was watching you struggle against your bindings, glaring past your flesh and blood and bones to pierce your soul. It was hungry.

"Hey..." you struggled to from words from your numb lips, saliva dripping past your teeth.

"Hey, hey, let me- let me go." you whispered, coarse words dragging out of your throat. The rustling grew louder, nails scraping against the floorboards. Speaking aggravated whatever it was, and as you croaked out a torrid "help..." something hopped out from the darkness towards you. It snapped at your feet and you cried out, kicking at it. The crow was bowled over and uttered a shrill sound, which was answered from many beaks just behind the light.

You realized, with a spike of fear, that you were surrounded by a large murder of crows.

A cacophony of squawks deafened you, and suddenly your eyes were filled with the image of a thousand crows flying at you talons first. You screamed as their talons ripped into your flesh, blood spurting out in streams. Their beaks tore down to bone, pecking and snapping at your ears and eyes. You tried to scream for help, but your mouth filled with feathers and the taste of copper. Your hair was tugged out of your head, your fingers snapped at and bloody.

The bindings were torn apart by the raging birds and you covered your face, sobbing as all you knew was pain, and blood, and feathers.

One crow collided with your arms, trying to peck at your face. You flung out your hands to try and shoo it away and grabbed ahold of it instead.

You were wounded, and helpless, and your heart filled with anger at the struggling corvid in your grasp.

With two hands you choked it, sealing your other hand around its neck and shaking it viciously, funnelling all of your anger into your hands, into strength. Blood filled your eyes with red, and you gripped tighter and choked it until you felt a snap underneath your fingers.

The crow went limp in your grasp. You had broken its neck.

You lashed out and grabbed another crow, taking its head in one hand, it's body in the other, and twisted them in opposite directions. Then another. Then another.

Tears dripped down your face, mixing with snot and running into your mouth as you screamed, killing one crow after another, stomping on the corpses on the floor, coating your hands and the soles of your feet with their slippery, warm blood.

Soon all of them were dead, and you stood in the middle of the carnage, arms hanging at your sides, blood drying on your skin.

You looked down at your hands in horror, bruised and beaten by wings and claws, covered in red and flecked with the fibres of black feathers. You had killed them all, one by one, until none were left.