BATIM Lemon Oneshots

Projectionist X Female Reader

"Shhh... there he is. The Projectionist. Skulking in the darkness. You be sure to stay out of his light, if you don't want trouble. Just bring me back the pieces I need, my little errand girl~" Alice's voice crackles over the loudspeaker, and I stare out into the darkness. It's like a maze... And what's with all those projectors on the walls? I step out, and I instantly sink up to my calves into more disgusting, thick ink.

"Ugh!" I try to pull my legs up and out of the ooze, but I only succeed in filling my shoes with the stuff. Disgusting! Why the hell doesn't she just she do this herself if she really wants those hearts? I don't even know what the hearts look like! I sulkily walk further into the maze of corridors, making disgusting noises as the ink suctions itself to my feet. I walk around a corner and come face-to-face with a projector and nearly jump out of my skin. Luckily, it's just playing a clip of "Tombstone Picnic" onto the wall, and I sigh in relief. Not it, thank god... I've only seen the Projectionist once from a distance through a window, but he didn't look particularly friendly... All inky, with a film reel poking out of his shoulder... and... I shudder and a projector for a head. Yeah... I don't want to run into him.

I keep walking, slightly picking up the pace until my foot bumps against a small object. What the-? I bend down and pick it up. It's around the size of the palm of my hand, and it looks like a human heart, but it's covered in inky dark stains. Oh. So that's what she wants. I think, and I put the heart down my shirt because my pockets are too small for it to fit. It squirms against my chest, and I can feel it oozing onto my shirt and running down my stomach. "Ugh!!! I hate this... you better send me home for this, Angel!!" I yell up toward the ceiling, but I quickly snap my jaw closed. Did he hear that? I pause, and I don't hear anything. Okay... Now time to keep going.

I continue onward, and after I find the third heart and squirrel it away in my shirt. I turn back down the corridor I came down, but then freeze in horror. Right in front of me, The Projectionist himself stalks past, his footsteps splashing. He doesn't seem to be bogged down by the ink like I am, and I shudder at the thought of him chasing me. He'd probably catch and kill me with no trouble at all. I wait a few tense minutes, then step out and walk the opposite direction he came from. One more heart sits on top of a small crate, and another one sits in the ink a few feet away. I triumphantly pick them up and shove them down my now close to bursting button down.

"Tell me, were they still writhing in your hands?" The Angel's staticky voice suddenly blares above "Or your shirt...? Well I don't judge. Any way you carry them is fine so long as I receive them. Bring them to me, now! You know I don't like to wait~"

"Please tell me this is the last of your errands..." I groan, though I don't expect a response. But the thought of leaving these horrible catacombs gives me a spring in my step. I'm so excited to get out I don't watch where I'm going and smack right into something solid. I slip backward and land at an awkward angle, and quickly push myself to my feet, grimacing. God damnit... who put that wall there?! And who the hell thought it was a good idea to put a projector here?! Then icy fear pierces my body like a spear. Oh no....

The Projectionist turns around, and I'm momentarily blinded by the glaring light coming from his head/face. He cocks his head, his light flickering, then he snaps to attention and a horrifying garbled screech comes out of the speaker on his chest. He lunges toward me, and I whip around and take off down the flooded corridor. I feel his hand graze my shoulder and that pushes me to pick up the pace. I'm horribly bogged down by the ink and holding my arms over my chest so I don't drop the hearts. The clickering of projectors ease off, and I'm flooded with relief. He gave up...? I don't slow down though, I keep running. Suddenly, I feel something snake around my ankle and pull tight. I fall forward, my hands fly up to protect my face, and as I land face-first into the ink, I feel my shirt rip open and see the ink hearts scatter out of my reach. I jerk upright, and the air on the ink on my now exposed chest is horribly cold. I yank at my leg and futilely claw at the inky wire wound around it, but to no avail. W-what the hell is this?!? I manage to find the end of the wire and begin to pry it off my leg. I've almost got the first loop off, but it snakes up and tangles around my fingers, rendering my left hand useless. Is it alive?! I struggle and yank my hand away as hard as possible, but I can't escape.