Sounds So Sweet - Ticci Toby X Reader

Chapter 1

Alright, alright. This is the moment you've been waiting for. Just take a breath and jump, right? You can do it. This childhood lake never felt so welcoming. A little shake of the hands, puff of air, and go for it. Except, one little problem: you can't. It's not that you don't want to, no no. You've waited for this moment.

There was no particular reason to leave other than the fatigue and gloomy outlook that engulfed your everyday life. Days go by so slow, you need this, but you can't. It's too much suffering, and you've suffered enough.

Drowning is too much.

You want to cry now and it's getting embarrassing at this point. Why can't you do it? Just breathe in the murky lake water and it'll be over, but the anxious feeling tickling the back of your throat leaves you lightheaded.

That's it, you're going home. What a waste of a trip. The only way is through a car accident, so maybe you can go mach 20 into a tree or just some joe schmoe building.

Alright, sounds great.

A sigh brings your high down, and the subtle crunch of fallen branches and beginning fall leaves drown out any other noise. More hand shaking, puffs of air. Let's do this thing. You can just make the walk back nostalgic, listening to the nature on the dark night, smelling the pungent fire in the distance. probably some midnight barbecue.

Finally, an exasperated "UGH" escapes your lips. WHY was not living so freaking hard to accomplish? You can't do the usual physical pain, the suffering to drown out the noise. Just thinking about it gets you squeamish, but damn does the sweet feeling of straight up death get you going.

In the midst of your thoughts, you hear a rather quick paced animal in the near distance. You don't know what, though. Too much attention to detail in your time of certainty.

You're almost at your car, finally the time is almost here. A bit over halfway there and bam, the ending begins. A quick breather and an eye close both calms the pit building in your stomach, but welcomes a straight blow to your right side. You feel a crack in your shoulder as it most violently collided with the nearby trunk, accompanied by your head as a lil' sidekick. You yelp in surprise, and curse the powers above for giving you the opposite of your wishes: a clean death.

When the world stops spinning, you look around from the woods's floor, and find a creature sprawled out on the ground. A deer? No way. Too small. A cub? Where's the momma? Maybe a stray dog? Too big to have collided with your entire body. So what is it? The thing moves, and transitions to all fours. Maybe it is a dog?

A searing pain manifesting from your shoulder steals your attention. Something's broken. That's it. You're done. Your opposing arm drops and your head droops. You're doomed for failure and suffering until your heart gives out. A tear escapes. Probably from both physical and mental pain, but a tear is a tear to you. A sob starts to leave your mouth when you feel a cold, wet metal crossed around your neck. You look up to see a shivering figure.

"Just do it." The figure continues to shiver, chest rising at great, quick levels.

"What are you waiting for? This is literally my dream. Please. Do it." Silence. More shivering, and you grab the figure's wrists, a sudden boiling erupting from the bottom of your stomach.

"IF YOU WONT, THEN I WILL," and you begin to take the blow yourself, when the shoulder pain hits you. Your left hand drops in excruciating pain, and more tears.

"Please do it. I'm begging you, please. And take anything and everything you want. I don't want to be found out I just can't do this please kill me, do it." Sobs rack you, and the only other noises heard are the thuds of the metal.

One misses you, the other nicks the side of your shin. Not bothering to look up, you continue to cry and cry and cry.

After your sobs turn to sniffles, you listen to another sniffle. Looking up, you observe as the figure sits, head in hands on the knees, crying.

"You know you have nothing to cry about." you hiccup, and shift to shimmy your back up against the tree trunk.

The figures breath hitches, and a head lifts to meet yours. An ominous shadow casts over his face. Nothing more is said, so you continue.

"You know what's to cry for? The constant feeling of utter helplessness and fear to take your own life. The fear that comes from pain. Nothing else. Every day I search up painless deaths, and pray to whatever is up there to just end it. Stop my heart. I suffer enough, right? Every day in agony for what? I'm a waste of life, useless. So, so useless." a lump forms in your throat, you feel so much pain.

"Why won't you do it? Why can't you? You sit there like a coward. Just kill me. I felt the cold blood on your blades, you've done it before, make me a pattern, please, I need this."

"You don't know what pain is." The deeper, raspy voice cuts you off in a low chuckle.

"I come back every year to celebrate a death I shouldn't remember. The son of a bitch who stole my life, killed it with his bare hands, his mouth spewing nothing but venom for years. I burn down the remnants of any charred house every year, killing more and more every day, and I feel NOTHING. No satisfaction. Just the adrenaline. You don't know the pain I feel. How privileged you are to be able to aid your mind with meds, while mine's with murder. Don't you DARE talk to me about sufferings, all you know are the thoughts you're own mind concocts-"

"Wow. You know what? You may have more intense scenarios or traumatic events, but all that's played through my mind for years is loneliness, despair, emptiness. You don't know MY pain. How easy you must have it to take your emotions out on anything. I sit inside and mope around until I fall asleep because nobody can even begin to understand. I suck it up. There's no other way. I can't do anything for myself. All I ask is for you to do something you're comfortable with, yet you sit there and cry." you look at him in disbelief.

"You know what else? Screw this. I'll do it myself. Plan B is a go." You stand yourself up, and begin the rest of the journey.

You hear a crunch of the branches behind you, but no way you're turning back. He wouldn't kill you, the coward would rather complain about his own job. You continue on, and turn around for a brief second. He's following you? Whatever. You take a breath, and slug on.

Occasionally, you'd check on your shadow, and find them particularly annoying. It's really past your death date, and it's safe to say you're pissed. What if the cops were looking? Sighing, you turn around abruptly.

"Can I PLEASE help you?" but only a doe cheerfully passes you.

Knitting your brows together, you vocally express your annoyance. Another turn, and you begin feeling a bit nauseous. Just the pain, ignore it. The shoulder pain would be gone soon, but the growing fear went unnoticed. What is there to fear? You're nausea grows, and the ringing in your ears took effect. Were you going into shock or something? What's up? Soon enough, you felt out of breath and unmistakably confused. Where are you? The ringing grows in volume, and you find static visual spots initiating across your vision.

Maybe you need a breather? You sink to the ground, and groan in pain. Your shadow appears once more, into your decreasing vision.

"...What?...I-" You groan again, and feel the force of the same cold metal bringing your head up to look into the figures eyes, but the darkness masks them well.

They jolt, and you jump, feeling a nick of pain against your jaw. Your unharmed hand finds the nick, and tenderly feels the sore, open wound. You look up, and find your vision fading. A taller, dark figure manifests behind the shadow. Ringing masks your final scream until you completely succumb to darkness.