Delirium (Creepypasta x reader)

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Content warning: Injury, blood mention, self-surgery

Lord were you tired.

The ground under your back was the first thing you registered as you were roused from unconsciousness - with scratchy pine needles and small protruding rocks making an uncomfortable mattress for your poor back.

The sound of someone's voice was the second thing you registered. It was a harsh voice, tone frustrated as the person muttered loudly just a few feet from you.

"Jesus Christ this is boring. Could literally be hunting right now but instead I've got to be here and wait for this stupid bitch to wake up. Why the fuck did I agree to this..."

It took a second, but as soon as you registered what exactly was said all drowsiness washed away because - first of all, rude, and second of all, was this person referring to... you?

He must have been, which only meant one thing. 

You were in that godforsaken forest again.

"Maybe if I kick them- am I allowed to kick them? Probably, it isn't inflicting too much ha- oh hey."

You had sat up and opened your eyes, staring full on at a man who you had seen once in near total darkness and had hoped to never see again. Yellow goggles perched atop his head of curly brown hair; a facemask puled under his chin so he could worry at the black leather gloves he had on with his teeth. His cheek was torn, exposing pink flesh and gums alongside his molars. He wore a striped, brown hoodie and blue jeans with holsters weighed down with a pair of hatchets. He was leaning against that dilapidated barn you had come across in the past. Acting all casual, like he was waiting for the bus and not for your prone body to wake.

Jesus, he looked exactly your age. Well, serial killers didn't just spawn in at age forty with a mortgage and five bodies in the basement. They had to start somewhere. You couldn't judge.

But you could run.

You just barely caught a look of surprise on the man's face as you jumped to your feet and spun around, rocketing into the trees. A faint "ah, shit" made its way to your ears and you had to suppress the urge to giggle nervously as you leapt over bushes and waved around tree trunks. 

You weren't sure what new trial was waiting for you but you sure as hell weren't waiting for it. Any previous reservations were gone with the wind as you ran, gritting your teeth as your bare feet were torn by branches. If you got far enough ahead you could quickly hide and avoid the guy completely.

Unfortunately, you were not faster than him or his weapons. 

A whizzing sound came up from behind, and you shrieked as a heavy object whipped just past your ear. You stumbled, flinching as it slammed into a tree just in front of you. As you regained your balance, the blood drained from your face. 

Embedded in the trunk was the worn, brown handle of a throwing axe. The head was sunk so far in the bark that it was nearly hidden from view.

A second later you heard swift, heavy footsteps, and turned to see the man approach, goggles obscuring his eyes and one hand on the holster holding the other hatchet. The mask was pulled over his face now, and through the tint of the lenses you could catch a glimpse of his eyes narrowed in annoyance.

"Really? Not even a greeting? Some of the other-" he caught himself as you began to shake, cowering away from him.

"What?" he asked, looking like he had no clue why you were afraid of him.

"You-your-" your throat was bone dry, and just as your eyes began to get wet did he understand.

"You're not supposed to run."