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

XXII

     You woke up the next morning to find yourself in near-complete silence. The bright light hurt your eyes as you sat up and didn't lessen much when you rubbed them. A dull pain in your bruised arm and the throbbing in your head quickly reminded you that you had far worse problems than your current light sensitivity though. A yawn escaped your lips as you looked around the room only to find no one but yourself. The television had been shut off long ago and Jack was nowhere to be seen. The light flow of air from the AC that kept the room chilled was all you could hear until footsteps sounded from around the corner.

Out came walking Jack with his hands in his pockets. He looked quite calm as he quietly went over to your side and said nothing as he moved to get back out his medical kit. He took out another piece of gauze, a small towel, and more bandages which you assumed were going to replace the ones you currently wore. He placed everything he needed beside you on the table before wetting the cloth and stepping behind you.

You stared down at your lap as Jack got to work. His surprisingly gentle hands carefully undid the bandages wrapped around your head and set them to the side. The gauze beneath them was stuck to your skin, your dried blood acting as an adhesive. He peeled it off slowly, gaining a wince and gritted teeth from you. Once it was gone and put with the pile of discards, he wiped away the blood coating your wound. It had luckily stopped bleeding last night, and once the red was cleaned off all that was left was a fresh scab with an irritated pink-red color around its edges.

The gauze was replaced and Jack wrapped the bandages back around your head. Just as he finished, the basement door was pushed open, and in walked Hoodie. Jack sighed at his presence while Hoodie mostly ignored him as he walked over to your side and studied Jack's work.

You looked up at him silently as he continued to say nothing. He looked even tenser than usual and though you couldn't see his face you were sure he was frowning. You couldn't help but wonder if he was somewhat worried about you. Part of you wanted to believe that he was while the other was screaming at you that the only thing he cared about was winning. And then there was the part of you that knew you shouldn't even want him to be worried. He was a serial killer, a murderer, and yet you felt like you almost had some sort of bond with him.

He wanted you to live, he encouraged you and literally held your hand through the process of the first fight. You knew you should hate him, you had known that ever since you first realized that you didn't. You were angry with yourself and the way you felt, you were more conflicted than you had ever been in your entire life. Yet your feelings wouldn't go away.

You felt guilty, confused, angry, sad, and worst of all, weak. You felt weak because you knew that no matter what you did you didn't have the power to change anything, and that hurt the most. You couldn't save yourself let alone your friends, and now two of them were dead. You still felt like this entire situation was your fault, all because you had let Ryan lure you into the forest. It was your fault, and you couldn't even try to make yourself feel better by denying it. You had gotten two of your closest friends murdered, and one of them had been killed by your own hands. You were a murderer, and now you were just as bad as the people who had taken your life and ripped it to shreds.

But as Hoodie finally spoke, your focus turned back on him and your jumbled emotions seemed to calm.

"...How do you feel?"

You blinked and opened your mouth to speak, but when no words came out you just shrugged in response.

He sighed and gave a short nod before turning to Jack, "is she fine now?"

Jack crossed his arms, "more or less. You should be able to redo the bandages when it's needed, so she's fine to go back with you for now." He paused for a moment before glancing at the bucket that had been left on the floor beside the table, "just make sure to bring her back if she starts vomiting again."

Hoodie nodded in understanding before helping you off of the table and to your feet. You felt dizzy as your legs wobbled a bit, but fortunately, Hoodie waited a moment to steady you.

Once you could stand on your own without shaking, Hoodie led you out of the basement and up the stairs. As soon as you stepped through the door the cold gray walls of the basement were replaced with the deep red walls that ran along the stairs and throughout the rest of the house. The temperature shifted ever so slightly warmer and the scent of chemicals no longer floated through the air.

You took in a deep breath of fresh air to try and soothe the headache that you were sure was a mixture of both your head injury and the interesting smell of chemicals and blood. While your head didn't feel much better, you certainly felt like you could think clearly now that you weren't stuck in the dingy basement that belonged to Jack.

Only stopping momentarily to glance at you, Hoodie continued walking through the house until you arrived back at his bedroom. He opened the door and brought you inside before letting out a sigh of relief. He went and sat on the edge of his bed while you walked over to your spot on the floor. To your surprise, there was a nice-looking plaid blanket and a pillow waiting for you. You sat beside the area with a bit of confusion before looking up at Hoodie.

He was in the process of taking off his mask, and once it was off he looked to you and raised a brow. You glanced to the pillow and blanket before looking back to him and tilting your head as if asking, 'why is this here?'

He sighed a bit and simply stated, "you have a concussion."

You nodded slowly before hesitantly laying down and pulling the blanket over yourself. While the pillow was way more comfortable than the cold floor, these objects of comfort really confused you. Hoodie was actually being sort of nice. He was at least somewhat worried about your well-being, and now he had made your sleeping arrangements far more comfortable.

You sighed softly, still deep in thought, as Hoodie laid down as well. He didn't say anything else before he closed his eyes and seemed to relax a bit. You rolled over and looked up at the window. It was still early morning, and you guessed it was still before 7:00 am. The sun was just beginning to creep up from behind the trees and give light to the forest. It would be day soon, and you only hoped that you'd get a break from training. You weren't ready to go back to that, not when you knew the second fight was in the near future.

You already felt terrible about Sadie, even though she was the one to strike first, but you didn't know what to feel about Jade. Jade was messed up. Jeff had quite literally broken her, and now the only thing recognizable about her was her appearance. She was cold and ruthless. She had killed Emery without any remorse or hesitation. You couldn't help but be angry at her, but were you really all that different? You had killed someone too. You weren't just an innocent victim, you were just as bad as her.

You squeezed your eyes shut and took in a deep breath. You were a murderer now. You had taken someone's life, and it was one of the people who you were closest to in the world. And soon enough you'd be expected to do it again.

If you won, all three of your closest friends would be gone. But if you lost, you'd be gone too, and though you were still angry with yourself, you didn't want to die. You couldn't let yourself die after all of this, after all you'd done.

So you wouldn't. You'd still fight, because you had killed Sadie, and you wouldn't let her die for nothing.

4.3 pages · 1,526 words