Something Amiss (Hoodie x Reader)

Eight: Tension

You and your kidnapper were left in uncomfortable silence for only a few minutes, before you could hear the muffled sound of footsteps coming from the entrance. You twisted your head around, trying to get a decent look at your brother, but you couldn't see very much through the glass and darkness. Only a sea of murky shapes and movement. The masked man opened his door, climbing out of the car swiftly.

You couldn't help but notice that he had stuffed the gun into the front pocket of his black jeans - a lot better than keeping it in his hand, but your heart was still filled with fear as you envisioned worst-case scenarios. Namely, your brother lying dead on the concrete in a puddle of his own blood and tears.

There was little you could do. The door was child-locked, much to your resentment, and the man had taken the keys with him. Even if you could get out, you'd probably face-plant straight away. Fucking ropes.

You heard muffled voices, but couldn't decipher any specific words. All you knew was that the demonic voice was filled with apathy, and Harry's voice was full of fear. Poor kid. Somehow, you felt that this was all your own fault. Running away turned out to be futile, you had only caused your brother, your favourite person, a world of worry. All for nothing. The masked fucker would have his way now, anyway. Whatever his way entailed.

A minute passed. No sound of gunshots came.

To your surprise, your car door was opened. There the masked man was, looming over you as he had a tendency to do, before he took a step back. He leaned against the side of the door, crossing his arms, as Harry rushed straight to you.

"(Y/n)!"

"Mmmmp!" You couldn't respond properly, but you still made an effort.

Harry reached for the tape around your mouth, before hesitating and looking up at the man who was still leaning nonchalantly against the vehicle. The man brought a black, gloved finger up to the downturned lips of his mask, turned pointedly at you. You nodded hastily, and he jerked his head to the side, gesturing for Harry to go ahead.

Riiip

You let out an audible sigh as Harry ripped the tape off as gently as he could. Thank fuck for that.

"(Y/n), what happened to you?" Harry's eyes were on the white cast that decorated your right arm, probably just as bemused as you had been upon discovering it.

"I don't..." You didn't know how the fuck to explain it, either. "...I fell." you finished lamely.

Harry raised his eyebrows, eyes flicking to the hooded man, then back to you. He clearly had other ideas, but he didn't question you for the time being.

"Hurry it up."

Harry stiffened at the sound of the voice changer, looking like he wanted to snap at the man. You shook your head violently at him, knowing what lay in the other man's pocket.

Harry looked at you with a grimace, speaking through gritted teeth. "Right. (Y/n), I'm supposed to untie you now." Untie you? For what? Seemed counterproductive. You still didn't know what the masked fucker wanted... and, why was Harry being dragged into things all of a sudden? Why had you been returned home at all?

Harry reached for the bindings around your arms, undoing them clumsily with shaking hands. The masked man watched his every move from where he stood, or at least tilted his head to give the impression.

As your brother was almost done untying your legs, your ears were once again met with the sound of the safety being flicked off of the masked man's gun. Really, asshole? Using that scare tactic twice in the span of ten minutes was bold. Though you couldn't deny, the last thing you wanted was either one of you ending the night with a bullet to the brain.