Hell | Sal Fisher x Reader

Chapter XV.II: Bad End

In the unknown, darkness takes place; Everything is pitch black and only one thing stands out—blue.

     From afar, this color is visible immediately. Contrasting to the dark environment, Sal Fisher's electric blue hair stands out. The said male stands at the center of the empty abyss, his blue eye staring at nothingness. Hugging his body is his everyday clothing—black sweater and red ripped jeans. Everything is as it always is except for his mask. It's nowhere in sight.

    The cold breeze tickles Sal's scarred face, making his long hair brush behind him. A voice whisper onto his ear. "Hello?"

    The voice is soft and gentle, sending shivers to the male's spine. Again, it spoke. "Sal, are you there?"

    His blue eyes widen in shock. He knows that voice. It's the same voice that had given him comfort as a child, longing as a teenager, and now, it's giving him waves of emotions.

    Sal opens his mouth as he tries to call out the owner of the voice, but no sound comes out. He swallows, feeling his throat going dry. His chest tightens as he continues his attempts to call for a certain girl's name. Frustration starts to build inside him as all his attempts lead to nothing. Resorting to his last option, he runs.

   Into the darkness he goes, running towards her voice, hoping that his feet will be quick enough to catch up. As he goes deeper into the abyss, the atmosphere starts to thicken. His heart starts to beat fast as he as his breath goes unstable. His head becomes light as his mind goes blank, creating illusions in front of him. Voices start to creep into his thoughts, taunting him to stop.

    Despite this, Sal didn't do it. The only voice he listens to is hers. The voice that keeps on motivating him, always reaching out to him, and even wanting him.

   Soon enough, light starts to peek in. It clashes against the darkness until...

    Nothing.

The room he enters is empty. The place where he thought [Name] would be in, is nothing but empty space. Maze decors and props, fills it but its contents are meaningless. An eerie silence envelops it, causing his hope and confidence to falter. He opens his mouth to call out. "[Name]? Larry? Anybody there?"

    His lips trembles as he receives nothing. His heart starts beat loud and fast. His uneasy thoughts form like clouds in his mind and rumbles like thunder in his chest. His fear of losing them strengthens as he looks around. Desperate to look for a sign that the two people he is looking for are alive. As his gaze lands on a certain cabinet in the room, his heart drops. His eyes follow the trail of crimson blood coming from it.

    "No..." He murmurs as he musters up courage to unveil what's inside. His handshakes as he reaches out to its handle. Opening it with cautious, it lets out an eerie sound.

     The hair at the back of his neck stands as he witnesses what's in front of him. He takes a step back with eyes widening in fear. His tears pouring down his face as he let everything sink in. Inside the cabinet, lays Larry Johnson, blooded and lifeless. His bright black eyes are now empty and dead. His body drenched in the most horrifying color of red. A deep traumatizing cut makes its way on his throat while the murder weapon lunged deep into his skull. The image is mortifying.

     Sal falls onto his knees as he stares at his friend. His mind is still processing the scenery laying before him. He cries. His heart aches as he mourns over his friend. Pouring out all his emotions, his body trembles. His hands shake in anger. His lip quivers in sadness. His chest tightening in pain. For the first time tonight, he feels weak and pathetic.

     "I'm sorry," He sobs. His hands wipe away the continuous flow of tears. "I failed you, Larry Face."

     His sorrows fill the air as he mourns. This catches the attention of a pair of policemen. They lurk behind him with their guns ready to shoot. He shouts. "Put your hands in the air!"

     Sal's eyes widen in shock as he turns and look. The pair are pointing their gun at him. He complies despite the questions in his mind. He lifts his hands over his head with a heavy heart. Everything that happened tonight is too much for him.

     Pulling out handcuffs, one of the officers locks him in place. He then recites, "Sir, you are under arrest for multiple murders. You have the right to remain silent. Everything you say will be held against you."

    He nods. His mind is too occupied to process the official's words. They escort him out of the maze, making snide remarks about his case. They call him a lunatic for what he did and threatens to do the same form of torture if he resists. He remains silent as they exit.

As the night ends, Sal sits by an interrogation room, quiet and motionless. His eyes stare at the pictures laid out in front of him.

    "Misha Kim, 21 years old, and found dead in one of the park's mazes. Beside her corpse is her friend. Amelia Jones, 23 years old, and stabbed 5 times, along with numerous small cuts." The police officer says. "Do you recognize them?"

     Sal shakes his head 'no'. The cop proceeds to show another set of pictures. "Neil, last name unknown, 25 years old, and stabbed in the abdomen. He survived after running away from the attack."

     "Ashley Campbell, 23 years old, and stabbed on the chest, alongside with Todd Morrison. He's 23 years old. Both are alive when they're found in one of the mazes." He continued. "Does their names ring any bell?"

    "Yes," He mumbles. "They're my friends."

    "I see. Let's proceed. Larry Johnson, 23 years old, and found dead in one of the park's mazes, separate from all the people said before. His throat cut clean, as the murder weapon rests on his forehead. Any thoughts?"

    The blue-haired male whimpers. "He's my friend."

     "Bullshit!" The cop slams his fist onto the table, startling the accused. "You claim them to be your friends, yet you killed them. What kind of sick monster are you?"

    "I didn't kill them,"

    "Then tell me, Mr. Fisher, are these yours?"

    His bright blue eyes land on the three items laid in front of him. The black hoodie he wore, his prosthetic, and two knives. The cop smirks as he watches the accused react.

    "You seem very familiar with these items. These are evidences that pinpoints you to be the suspect. All of them holds samples of the victims' blood...well, except for one." He shows a picture of the killer. "I'm guessing he escaped before you can kill him."

    Sal's heart drop at the sight. "Where is he?"

    "Who knows, Mr. Fisher," The cop takes all the pictures and evidences he sprawled out before standing up. "All we know is you are the suspect. Until further investigation, you will remain that way."

    "Wait! What about [Name]? Where is she?"

     The cop only gives him a sorrowful look before leaving. After everything that had happened, [Name] is nowhere to be seen...