Sounds So Sweet - Ticci Toby X Reader

Chapter 3

The head bowed, weapon in one hand. It steps closer to you, while you step back in fear. Curse the diminishing daylight. The individual steps closer and closer, and finally lunges towards you. You scream, and slip over the edge of earth you sat on just moments ago. Feeling your body lurch forward, you gasp, and feel the uncomfortable sting along the underside of your chin. With the hatchet burrowed into your skin, and the arm wrapped around your waist, you note the pounding of your heart and completely unhealthy palpitations littering its quickened beat. Too shaken to move or speak, you wait. The sun streams down the face of your threat, and you can clearly see their pale, deathly skin separating the two facial accessories around the eyes and mouth. You hear the individual's breathing as well, and a set of quick neck turns makes you jump and step back once more.

The goggles blinding your view sends fear tickling down your spine. The mouth guard mimics a smile worth a thousand words. This threat is here to kill you. Although you want to welcome it with open arms, the one in front of you still gives you a scare. More neck turns, although now it sounds like it's the cracking of a neck rather than swift head turns. Each click makes you push further back into the arm gripping your side.

Eventually, the individual jerks, and you wince in pain. The blade cut you, and you instinctively take another misstep back. The grip on the blade loosened when you both realize you have stepped into nothing but air. How could you forget the ledge! The individual frantically grabs at you, but instead trips as well. Both of you plunge into the lake below.

You resurface and cough out the accidental gulp of water you sucked in upon impact. In a panic, you try to find the end of the lake, but the sun has set and you're blind to the darkness surrounding your childhood lake, no street light to guide you.

"Oh god, oh god, oh god," you splash around, trying to look for a quick escape.

Regardless, you begin to rush towards one direction, and hope for the best. Eventually, the blind journey proves successful as you're met with the soft mush of a ground at the lake's ending. No time. You push through the ending of the lake and begin to run away into the woods.

Splashes. You hear accompanied running, and you run more.

It's okay, you have the advantage, this thing didn't grow up here like you did. It'll be okay.

Until it's not. You let out a scream as you feel a body lungs against yours, sending you to the ground. You squirm and make a fuss until you can try to break free, but the cold, wet grip on your waist won't let up. You continue to push on the head, punch and hit and do anything to get you free, but no budging occurs. Instead, a hand reaches to your shoulder and it climbs up to face level with you. You just try to scratch and kick and hit, but all you could do is rip off the hood. Grabbing the goggles, you unmask the man. Although the darkness engulfs you both, you manage to get a good look at the man's face. You unmasked him, and god did you regret it. His cheek was so ripped up, he seemed to create a ghastly half smirk that could haunt you for the rest of your days.

His brown eyes widened at your reaction, but you took this as a chance to grab a fistful of his hair and move him aside so you could run away. Instead, he holds on with a tighter grip, and starts to dig into your shoulder. You express pain, and just feel a sense of defeat. You wanted to die. This was the perfect chance, so why was it so hard? A tear rolls down your cheek, and you let go of him. He takes the opportunity to bring both hatchets up to your neck.

"Do it. I'm not afraid. This is what I want. I should be thanking you." The man's breath hitches, and he pulls the hatchets away. His legs still cradle you, but he immediately droops and places his head onto your shoulder.

"What are you doing? Kill me already!" You squirm, but he stays still.

It's not until you relax that you feel dampness from under the man's headrest. Being a contagious cryer yourself, you begin to let tears flow free. You hated everything, why did this have to happen? All you wanted was to die, but now your potential killer is breaking down on your shoulder? What a fucking life.

A few minutes pass before you decide you gotta do something. What could you do? Shove him off but he'll hold tighter, any form of escape seemed impossible. Your breath gets shaky, and he seems to notice, he raises his head, disheveled hair masking his eyes. He cracks his neck quickly, and your eyes widen in fear when you hear your dreadful ringtone. It was your mom. How convenient would it be that your phone manages to stay alive and well in your hoodie pocket through all of that. He freezes above you, and reaches into your hoodie pocket. You feel your body freeze as well, and you could've sworn you could hear a leave drop from the silence aside from your mother's call. Your lips press together, and you watch as he reluctantly hands you your phone. What? Your shaky hand meets his own, and you grab your phone.

"H-Hey ma, what's up?" you close your eyes and pray that nothing happens to which she'll HAVE to call 911 on your behalf.

"Hey, baby, are you alright? I wanted to let you stay out some more but it's starting to get really late and you need to rest that shoulder. Come home now, please." you breathe in slowly, and utter an okay, that you'll be home in 15.

The man hovering above you looks into your eyes, and slowly places your phone back into your pocket. His hand jerks away, and the neck cracking continues.

"Is it me? Is that why you won't kill me?" you press.

Each moment that passes is another moment you could be sulking in bed or driving your car into anything to end your suffering. Unfortunately, not even a presumably killer can do it.

"I just don't understand. I'm trained to kill right? Right? I can't even kill you. I just...ughhh..." the man begins to groan and scratch at his head, "...and you can't just act like everything that happened yesterday didn't hap-" another scream.

Soon enough, the sensation you assume he feels reaches you. The painful head pounding, and the ringing of your ears. The pain escalates in tune with the ringing. What is this? Why is it familiar? Why does this scenario feel so familiar, as if you've felt this dual presence before? And what the hell did he mean by yesterday? You were asleep, weren't you?

The failure rolls over to the side, in his own cradle position. He yells out in pain, and manages to scream a word. You can only assume it's a nickname, but before you can repeat the name, the static dances across your eyesight until consciousness escapes you.