Heart Of Gold ( A Midas x Reader Fortnite Fanfiction)

Chapter 33- A Dark Past (Part 3)

There is a man standing at the end of a corridor. Or it could be a woman.

You can't really tell from so far away. Not to mention, the hallway is dark and poorly lit, the only source of light flickering in and out of consciousness frequently, throwing the stretch of space into a dark siesta of flickering, dancing shadows that leap across the walls, stroking your hair, their cold, ghostly fingers tangling around your body as you press on, squinting. You could just about make out his clothes now- ragged, frisked, and torn, hanging from his body like flags to the uppers. You can make out stains- revolting, grotesque stains covering his clothes, a grotesque banner of self-neglect and sheer laziness. You grimace in disgust, trying to pull your feet back as they automatically slide across the smooth flagstoned floor, pulling the rest of your body along with them. Knowing better to argue with dream logic, you give in, letting yourself be pulled closer and closer to this mysterious man, who is staring at you, a smile slipping across his greasy, bearded face, a smile that reveals every yellow, blackened canine of his. Feeling like you are going to be sick, you watch in horror as he slips two thin, bony fingers into his back pocket, drawing out something that you can't make out, well, not until you see the tell tale flash, the glint as metal clashes with light, an extraordinary flash of blinding light as he playfully taps the knife upon his wrist, his eyes narrowed and cat-like. 

"Who are you?" you cry out, eyes widening in horror as he licks his lips, raising the knife above his head with an unusually skilled vengeance, his teeth bared in a predatory scowl. 

And then suddenly, without warning, the man starts morphing, letting out a piercing, hair-shattering scream as his skin liquify, his hair shrinking back into his skull, his cheeks dimpling and his cheeks hardening as strong, chiselled cheekbones erupt through his skin in a bloody burst, his greasy, grey stubbled jaw retreating back into his pores, replaced by a smooth, clean shaven, pale chin. Faster now, his legs and arms doubled to twice their size, the skin tightening over and smoothing, tauter and tauter, his shoulders and chest broadening, shredding his shirt seams. As the nightmarish thing writhes to and fro about on the floor, his calves chiselled, biceps ripelling, his forearms swelling until at last, it wasn't a strange, ghoulish man that stared back at you  but, instead, a face you've come to know so well.

"The truth," Midas sneers, grabbing you by your throat, ignoring your screams, eyes narrowing deviously as his grip around your throat tightens, the pain unlike anything you've ever felt before. You can feel blood trickling down around his fingernails, fingernails which are digging into your body, shredding your skin. You can barely even breathe, let alone scream as he raises the knife over your head, eyes alight with evil, malicious intent, a terrifying combination of pure, sheer insanity. You gurgle and spit, throwing out your hands in front of you, but it's too late, the enough is already coming down upon you, about to bury in your skull. Going, going, going - 

Gone.

Your eyes snap open as you let out a gasp, a gasp mingled with a scream of horror that rises in the back of you throat, bursting out of your mouth in a short, strangled shout.  Your fingers stray to your neck, brushing against the bruises, bruises that are only just beginning to heal, bruises that are surely not accompanied by blood, or fingernails, or whatever horrific imagery that dream fought to imply. Your gasp comes to soon however as, when you roll your head to the side to take in your surroundings, a bleary pain shoots through the back of your skull, a pain so excruciating and sudden that your vision blurs very slightly, only for a second, swaying as it resorts itself to its original composure, allowing you to take in your surroundings.