ONE-SHOTS (YouTubers x Reader)

Day 7 H̷a̷l̴l̴o̵n̶e̵-̴s̶h̴o̵t̴s̶

Gore Warning

(Y/n) P.O.V.

I've lost count of the days I've been here. Could be months. Could be years. I don't know anymore. All I know is pain and fear.

Because of him.

I don't know his name, he never mentioned it, but I know he can't be human. His neck bleeds out, but he doesn't die. His body glitches like a virus. His eyes are pure evil. Scary is the only word that can be used to describe him as a whole. Scary and ruthless. He kidnapped me from my own home, and has tortured me ever since. He's beaten, and kicked, and branded. But his favorite is knives. He finds pleasure in slowly plunging the metal object into my skin and dragging them even slower. He finds pleasure in the way my face twists with pain. He's a sadistic fucker that I have no means of escape from. I honestly stopped even trying long ago. If no one has found me by now, if I can't get free by now, it's too late for me.

I hear the metal door to this dungeon like basement open. Everything he's ever needed has been down here. I don't know what lies beyond those steps. I don't move as he reaches the bottom. I don't struggle as he starts fiddling with the chains. I don't fight as he moves my limp body to the table and straps me to it. "It seems you really have lost your fight, (Y/n). Shame. It was more fun then."

"If I'm boring now, why not just kill me. Get it over with." I mutter, but still loud enough for him to hear. He laughs wickedly, but doesn't answer. I don't know how much more I can take. Why doesn't he just do it already?

"What should we do today?" He asks. He's looking at me, but I know he doesn't really want an answer. His fingers move around my body where each of his cuts lie. Some scarred over, other fresh and raw. He finds a cut still bleeding on my shoulder. He let's out a high pitched giggle. "I wonder what your insides feel like." Without another word, his fingers slip inside the large would. I cry out in pain, the feeling being horrifyingly uncomfortable. I feel violated in some ways.

I can feel his fingers move inside my shoulder. I can feel his nails rip tissue. I can feel the pressure on my bone. I grow incredibly nauseated and faint. "Stop, please!" I beg weakly. He presses into the wound once more, making me shriek, before removing his hand from my body with a laugh. He raises the hand to his mouth, cleaning off the blood with his tongue. "I love it when you scream." He notes.

"Why don't you just kill me?" I yell out in anger and fear. A horrible concoction. He chuckles. "Oh (Y/n), I'm not going to kill you, you're going to kill yourself." I don't like his answer. The longer I'm here, the more I go mad, the more pain I feel, the more likely I'll bash my head against a wall to make it go away. It scares me because it's true.