Killing Is Forgiving - (Killer Croc x Reader)

4. - Different Story

"Though erasers erase, the trace
of a pencil will leave its mark on
a blank paper: just like pain."

━━━ • ✙ • ━━━

((Y/n)'s P.O.V.)

"Hey, the boss told you to get rid of the rats. The repellent is in the storage room. They're fucking annoying."

"Yeah, just like you're telling me to get rid of them," Caden pouted, slapping the dough brutishly, followed by inaudible curses.

"Fuck you for being salty, Caden. Enjoy your shitty shift! Hopefully, you'll deliver a pizza to a psycho's house and get kidnapped and go missing and die slowly and your corpse will be found mixed up with dog shit."

"Haha, very funny, asshole."

"Oh, come on! You know I'm just kidding!" I relented, trying to play buddy-buddy with him, although technically we never were buddies from the beginning, at least that's what I thought. But truth be told, our encounter was unmemorable as fuck.

"Yeah, you're always kidding. No wonder your life's miserable."

"Ouch?"

"Oh, come on! You know I'm just kidding!"

Okay, you know what? Caden won this round.

"Fine, fair enough. Now shut your goddamn mouth and just get rid of the rats, please?"

"You ain't my boss! And stop bossing me around!"

Gah, this little fuckwit! Thank goodness he's (sometimes) fun to be around. But, well, again, I think it's just me who's too sensitive on everything, such as hoping to see Waylon again?! What kind of batshit non-suicidal person wants a death wish!

I guess, that kind of a miserable person like me.

"What-the-fuck-ever Caden. Hope I don't see you tomorrow," I said, giving him my middle finger as I strutted out the parlor.

"Amen to that!" He responded, laughing childishly as he shook his head and resumed his kneading. I actually wanted to leave a box of pizza by the manhole for Waylon, but I didn't want to look suspicious by repetitively making myself a pizza and bringing it with me every time I finished my shift. Besides, if I kept on doing so, I'd probably have myself kicked out of the job. It's just, the thought of Waylon fulfilling his hunger by... eating a human, revolted me. I hope he didn't eat any human today and the next days afterward.

My left foot was getting better, although it needed four days to just 'feel better'. I guess it was only hurt at that moment. I mean, I still couldn't run away if there's a group of thugs who want to rape me, but at least it's getting better, right?

But, wouldn't it be better if I just died during that attempt? If I actually died, I wouldn't feel and know that my left foot was even sprained, right? Hell, I wouldn't even feel when Waylon chopped me up to pieces! Talking about it, I think I have to try to jump from the top of a building since it'd be more efficient. It's not like people will miss my ass anyway. Instead, they should be grateful once I'm gone. I'd had enough of trusting people and they'd had enough of seeing me alive, right? So, the feeling's mutual!

But, why did I trust Waylon? A freaking half-crocodile half-human creature?

Was it because of his reluctance of eating me? Was it because of how he let me sit next to him? Was it because of him giving me the privilege to call him by his name? Was it because of how we talked until we drifted asleep? Was it because of how he tried to calm me after my episodic nightmare? Was it because of how he insisted on eating the pizza that I actually don't want to eat despite being starving?