BΣƬЯΛY ΛПD DΣGЯΛDΣ (Various! Creepypasta x F! Reader)

XVII

     "Sunday, Monday, happy days..." You whispered to yourself as your head slowly swayed from side to side in rhythm with the music. You had sat up by now, your eyes trained on the stark white floor, an apathetic expression on your features. Seconds felt like minutes, minutes felt like hours, and hours felt like days. You had no idea how long you had been in here, you only knew that you had stopped caring about how badly your eyes stung or the headache that raged on in your skull.

"Tuesday, Wednesday, happy days..." You had stopped crying and screaming for Hoodie to let you out a long time ago, and now you just waited until he inevitably did. This wasn't permanent, though it did feel like an eternity. You had tried so hard to distract yourself and focus on anything but the music that filled the room, but it simply wasn't possible. You couldn't tune something out when it was literally the only thing you could hear. So you had just tried to embrace it, try to make the most of it.

Did it work? No. No, it didn't, but it made it bearable, and that was all you needed in order to get through this.

As you sat in the room, whispering the lyrics of the song as the speakers played it again and again, you thought about the fights. You thought about Sadie, and what she could be going through right now. You wondered about Jade, the broken woman who seemed to hardly even recognize you. And you worried about Emery, the once energetic and cheerful girl, now cowering in fear at her captor's every action. All of you had changed, whether you wanted to admit it or not. Sadie's confidence and bravery had been ripped away by Masky, and Jeff had basically shredded all of Jade's emotions. As for you, at this point, you just felt numb, but maybe that was just due to the room you were in. After all, you hadn't slept or eaten for days.

You had cried all your tears, yelled and cursed at the door till your throat was raw, and now you had just given up. You had accepted that you were at the mercy of Hoodie to decide when to let you out. So now you just sat, waiting for the heavy door to swing open and his gloved hand to reach in and pull you out.

"Thursday, Friday, hap-"

Then the music stopped.

Slow footsteps made their way towards the room, and your eyes widened as you heard the doorknob slowly turn. You raised your head just as the door opened and revealed the man who you had been waiting for all this time. Hoodie. The red eyes of his ski mask offered you no clues as to what he was thinking as he walked towards you and picked you up. Surprisingly, you weren't thrown over his shoulder. Instead, one of his arms was hooked under your knees while the other supported your back. A much more comfortable way to be carried rather than his shoulder digging into your gut.

You didn't bother to struggle as he carried you out of the terrible white room and into the dim hallway. You squinted as you silently looked around, your eyes finally getting relief from the harsh lighting. No words were spoken by either of you as he brought you back to his room. The barred windows that made this place feel like a prison told you that it was night, but the night of which day? How long had you been in there?

You were placed on the floor more gently than you expected, but once you looked up at him the only thing you saw was the cold frown stitched into his mask. The darkness of the room with only the moon providing light made him appear even more intimidating, yet you said nothing, nor did you move away.

The quietness of the room stretched on as if he didn't know what to say. Beneath his mask, his lips were pressed into a thin line with his brows furrowed. Hoodie seemed to have calmed down over the time you were gone, and instead of still being enraged by the fact you had tried to run away, he was afraid that he had left you in there for too long. You stared at him blankly, your eyes finally void of your determination, which is what he thought he had wanted. A few silent minutes passed before he huffed and sat on the edge of his bed, his fists noticeably clenched. Hoodie reached into the pocket of his jacket and pulled out a granola bar before tossing it to you.

You immediately grabbed it and tore open the wrapper, taking a huge bite and quickly wolfing it down. Your previous hesitation to eat anything he gave you now a thing of the past. He watched you as you ate, still not saying anything. The granola bar was gone within seconds, and the pain in your stomach soon faded. The wrapper fell to the floor and you pushed it to the side, giving your focus back to Hoodie.

"Two days until the fights." He finally spoke, his voice never reflecting any emotion. "We'll return to training tomorrow, for now just try to get some sleep."

Having barely heard the second part, your eyes were wide with shock. Four days. You had been stuck in that room, listening to that terrible song for four days? Your ears still rung and your eyes still burned, it made sense, but at the same time you were in disbelief. Almost like you didn't want to believe it. But that wasn't all that was disturbing, adding to your distress was that there were only two days until one of your friends might die. Jade was long gone, and if someone was paired against her you doubted they'd win, even you. You dug your nails into your leg as you processed that new bit of information, your eyes staring straight through anything you were looking at.

Seeing this, Hoodie sighed and shook his head, hoping that you'd snap out of this unresponsive state. He tugged off his mask and set it on his bedside table before laying down, facing away from you. As he stared at the wall with a frown, he could already feel that sleep wasn't going to come easy tonight.

You blinked a bit as you broke out of your trance. You took in a deep breath as you looked around the room you had spent so many nights in before, and then your eyes landed on the man who had held your friend at gunpoint, stabbed you several times, and trapped you in a room playing music so loud that you could barely hear. A man that you weren't sure you even hated anymore. Had you really been broken down so badly that you couldn't even bring yourself to hate him? Why? Why didn't you? You knew you were mad, furious even, but you just... didn't, and that made you angry with yourself more than anything. What was happening to your mind?

You frowned at your thoughts as you studied him. From his tense posture and broad shoulders to his fluffy light brown hair. He looked normal enough, even like someone you might have stolen a few glances at if you were anywhere else but locked in his room. But beneath his appearance was a cold man, one who disregarded other's feelings and pain, but you understood why. With what happened in Marble Hornets and everything that could have gone on after it, you understood why he acted the way he did. Becoming a proxy, a tool for a powerful being you can barely even comprehend, it'd change someone, and it had obviously changed him.

Hoodie had hurt you in more ways than one, yet when he rolled over and met your gaze, you didn't look away. Wordless eye contact had been formed, and neither of you seemed to want to break the silence. He still wore a frown, though it held no anger unlike usual. Hoodie seemed more conflicted than anything, but over what you'd never know.

You were the one to break off the staring contest after what felt like the longest minute ever. Your eyes fell down to the floor as your brows knitted together. A moment passed before you finally laid down, turning your back to him and curling into a ball. Your chest felt heavy with dread. Partially due to the emotions flashing through your mind only to be shoved down by the feeling of emptiness. But there was also the fact that you were running out of time if you weren't out by now in the first place. There were only two days left, and that certainly wasn't enough time to somehow rescue your friends. You had tried that once with the help of Sadie, and that had gone horribly wrong. You had been caught even with her help, and you doubted you could make it out on your own.

You had failed, and now there was nothing to do but wait.

A/N: *cough* Stockholm syndrome *cough*

4.3 pages · 1,531 words