BATIM ~Striker and female reader~ REMAKE

Ch.7

(Y/N) Pov: 

Exiting the stairwell, we found ourselves in another large room. 

“It’s always like this…” said a man somewhere above us. 

Startled, we looked up and saw a man covered in ink with glowing orange eyes. 

He was standing on the balcony above, sobbing. 

“I just want to go home...when do we go home…When do we go home? Oh no!” he said, covering his face with his hands before running off.

I watched him disappear around the corner sympathetically.

“That was a Lost One?” I asked, looking down at Charley. 

He nodded. 

“Yup. They’re the employees who used to work here, trapped and forced to live a life of sorrow and pain” said Charley, walking over to one of the doors. 

No wonder they're called Lost Ones.

“Ok, so where do we go now?” asked Striker, crossing his arms and scowling. 

“Through here. There’s a vent on the other side of this room, but it’s full of Lost Ones. I must warn you though, they’re scared of our clones, meaning if they see me and Edgar, they’ll most likely panic. You’ll be fine, since you look a little like them, covered in ink and all” explained Charley, grabbing the doorknob with his hand. 

“Ok, how bad could it be?” I asked, smiling and glancing down at Striker, who smiled and nodded in agreement. 

Charley just frowned as he opened the door, pushing it open. 

Me and Striker froze at the sight of all of Lost Ones inside the room. 

They all stopped what they were doing, turning their gazes to us. 

There was a small group sitting around a table, playing poker. One was sitting against the wall, dazed and confused, holding a can of bacon soup. Some were sitting behind bars, acting like prisoners and thugs. A group of three were crouching on the floor near the corner, doing squats. 

Everyone was silent, frozen in place. 

One of the Lost Ones panicked, pointing a finger at Striker and Charley. 

“Oh no! It’s two of the Butcher Gang members!” he screamed, scared. 

At that moment, they all went into a mass panic, running around screaming in fear, trying to find someplace to hide. 

Me and Striker were shocked by the sudden reaction. 

Charley sighed and gestured for us to follow, walking into the room, pretending to be one of the clones, making rasping noises and blabbering giggerish. 

I glanced down at Striker and shrugged, pretending to be a Lost One as I followed Charley, making sure to avoid the other Lost Ones who were still running around the room, screaming in fear and trying to hide. 

Striker sighed in annoyance. 

Keeping his main mouth closed, he began making rasping and gurgling noises with the mouth on top of his head, following me and Charley, pretending to be one of his clones. 

Making it to the open vent, Charley gestured for us to crawl in, making sure none of the Lost Ones were watching. 

They were all preoccupied with trying to find places to hide.

Entering the vent, me and Striker crawled through first, Charley following as he closed the vent behind us. 

With Henry: