The Boy Movie Brahms Heelshire x reader FanFic

Slither - Part 48

Something isn't right.   You can feel it.   Being unable to pinpoint it is driving you nuts.   It's like something has crept up on you...on the Heelshire mansion...with a stealth you never anticipated.  And now it's here, making itself felt like some insidious, invisible presence.  Time and again you could swear someone is lurking in darkened corners, or across the room.  You even feel it in the gardens glancing around convinced you're being watched from a distance.  But there's never anything or anybody there.  At least not that you can see.

"Brahms?"

He looks up from eating lunch, chewing a piece of homemade bread in that methodical way he has.  You stare down at your own bowl of soup.

"What is it, Y/N?  Another nightmare?"

"Do you feel any different?   I mean...about the house?  I can't shake off the feeling I'm being watched."

"There's nobody here, Y/N.  I check every day, and I'd know if there was."

"I don't know what's wrong with me.   Well...I do.  It must be delayed shock...guilt...what happened to that woman...what I did..."

"It'll pass."

"Will it?"  There's a quiet desperation in your voice and  you cringe inwardly.   You don't know that you'll ever get over causing someone's death, even if that person was hell bent on destroying the both of you.

"It's a psychological reaction to trauma," Brahms says.

"You mean like PTSD?"

"Perhaps."

"Did you ever feel that?"

"No."   At the unvoiced question in your eyes, his tone softens.   "But I know I love you, Y/N."

You wonder how that can be, from someone who can't feel guilt or remorse in the same way you do.   You watch Brahms smile slowly at you.  "It just is," he says. 

The following day you're upstairs changing the bedding.  Brahms is somewhere downstairs.   You're just about to walk back down clutching an armful of sheets and pillowcases when the hairs on your neck stand to attention. That horrible feeling is back.  You turn slowly, to stare down the gloomy landing.  It's raining outside and midday is turned to dusk.   For what feels like an age you stare around convinced you feel invisible eyes on you.  Above your head, you hear a floorboard creak on the second landing.   Goosebumps prickle your arms as you think of Melinda.  You don't really believe in ghosts.  Do you?

"This is ridiculous!" you mutter.  "You're ridiculous."

You throw down the bedding then storm up the stairs to the second landing, determined to de-bunk your own fears.   Charging down to the Blue Room, you slam the door open then glare around.  The boarded up casement where Melinda fell shuts out half the light, and the room has a dismal, dense atmosphere that's so unpleasant you take a step backwards.  You make a mental note to get that window fixed.  There's nothing in this room, no intruders, no ghosts, nothing but the patter of rain on the windows and a feeling of guilty desolation in your heart.

You stand in the doorway, right fist pressed to your mouth.  "I'm sorry, Melinda.  But I couldn't let you hurt us."  The words sound meaningless, as you know they are.  You turn to leave,  dragging back up the corridor towards the stairs...and that's when you see it.

At first you think it's a shadow, or trick of the light.   It's nestling high in a corner above one of the doors looking like a cross between a large black spider, a starfish and a hand.  You freeze.  

What the hell is that?

You wait for it to move, but it doesn't.  It remains in place as though carved from the plaster its attached to.  Convinced it will spring down and grab you if you pass it, you take a step backwards.  

It's just a huge spider web, is all.   Covered in old dust...

With its thick starfishy legs and fat slick body your logic tells you otherwise.    Glancing down the corridor, you consider shouting for Brahms.   But what if that thing hears you?  What if your voice disturbs it?   What it if drops down onto your head when you... Tentatively, you take a single step forwards, then another, your eyes never leaving that gelatinous mass.  Did it move just then!    Eyes just playing tricks,  Y/N...  

You're not one for praying, but the words slip from your mouth slick as snot when you see one tensile arm of that horror slither and stretch to twice its length as it reaches down the wall.  "Oh, God help me!"   

Then you're bolting past it across the landing, taking the steps three at time.   You leap over the discarded bedding  then tear down to the hallway your feet thundering on the stairs.  At the last few steps you miss your footing and crash onto your backside, bumping painfully down to skid to a halt at Brahm's feet.   He stares down at you, waiting as you get your breath.

"Something up there!  Outside the Blue Room!"

He's halfway up the stairs before you can get to your feet.   You run after him.  At the second floor you find him charging into each room.  You glance anxiously to where that spidery thing sat.

"It was here, Brahms.  Right up there."

He comes out of the Blue Room.   "There's nobody here, Y/N."

"No.  Something, not someone.  Right up there."  You point, and he looks, but it's gone.  "It was black and big like a spider...a starfish.  It was here, I swear."

"Spiders come into the house at this time of year.  They're not poisonous in Britain."

"It wasn't a spider."

"What do you think it was?"

"I don't know."

"Come on downstairs.  I'll make us some coffee."

"Brahms?   I'm scared.  Something feels wrong and I can't put my finger on it.  It's a feeling I can't shake."

He's already walking away from you.  At the head of the stairs he turns then holds out a hand.  Slowly, you walk to him and take it.  He feels warm and strong.   As usual, his touch wipes out your fears and insecurities, at least temporarily.    As he leads you down the stairs, you glance nervously over your shoulder to the empty landing.  It's filled with nothing but shadows.