It's Not Just A Story (Robert Manion x Reader)

2

The town of Hatchetfield looked to be normal. Streets were filled with workers heading to their jobs, there were some people from

Greenpeace asking others roaming the streets if they were signed up or not, and there were some homeless folk walking around, asking for money. Everything seemed normal...

'For now, anyway,' (Y/n) thought to herself, eyeing the people around her. They weren't dancing and singing as the professor had predicted, but it had to happen soon enough.

When the abandoned theater came into view, (Y/n) stopped her tracks with wide eyes when eight people walked out, talking amongst one another. 'Holy shit, he was right! But how do I approach them? God, why didn't I think about that?'

Staring hadn't done her any good.

A man with curly brown hair and hazel-blue eyes were staring right back at her. His eyebrows were pushed together and a frown was worn on his lips. He tapped one of the others' arms, a tanner man with slicked-back dark brown hair- that could be mistaken for black. And soon enough, the rest of the group was staring.

"Uh oh," (Y/n) moved her hand to her right thigh shakily and made sure the gun she had shoved down the pocket was still there, before she made a run for it, ignoring the calls of the group that she was receiving.

"ROBERT, SHE HAS A GUN! WHY THE FUCK ARE YOU RUNNING AFTER HER?!" (Y/n) turned around and stopped at a corner. That's clearly what you do, stop when someone is chasing after you, right?

(Y/n) leaned toward the edge of the corner and listened to the sound of footsteps smacking against the wet pavement. 'Wait... wait... wait... NOW!' She threw her arms out and grabbed the first man, pulling him around the corner.

He let out a yelp when she threw him against a stone wall. "Alright, listen here. I don't know what you are, I don't know who you are, but what I wanna know is how the fuck you got into Hatchetfield!"

The man groaned and allowed his head to fall a bit, (Y/n) took note of the blood dripping from his forehead, it was red. "D-Did you say H-Hatchetfield?" his Australian accent leaked confusion.

"Hatchetfield... d-doesn't exist..."

'Aaaaaaand he's a nut job.' (Y/n) moved her forearm to the man's throat as he attempted to move.

"Of course Hatchetfield exists, it's where you are right now. Are you and your friends from another planet or something?" She paused, considering a theory that the meteor had affected theaters first, sending whatever it brought along with it to invest theater kids. But there was one problem with that one, the theater that had come out of was abandoned, no one in, no one out. "Do me a favor, sing the beginning of Moana."

The man widened his eyes and gave (Y/n) a funny look. "Sing the beginning of Moana? I don't remember the first song off the top of my head, give me a moment please."

Before he could even begin to sing, the rest of his little group turned around the corner, holding anything that looked to be a weapon (metal, wood, etc.).

"Alright, let Robert go!" A dark-skinned man said, pointing a long metal pole at (Y/n). "I-I'm not one for hitting people- but I will hit you with this!"

The man that (Y/n) had up against the wall, Robert, took the chance to push the woman away, putting an arm out in front of her as she pulled out her gun. "Wait! Guys don't hit her!" He turned to the tan man who was holding a broken beer bottle. "Joey... remember when we were talking about our musical becoming a real thing?"

The group gave Robert a confused look. "Guys... we're in Hatchetfield..."

"This is the musical."