Fascination (Masky x Hoodie x F.Reader)

Prologue

Brookbridge Asylum 7:43 pm, October 18th.

You were here looking for your missing friend. You honestly didn't think you'd be spending your 21st birthday in a supposedly haunted asylum.

Jezebel Owens, 22, brown eyes, auburn hair, 5'9. Last seen October 14th, wearing a honey-colored sundress and black cardigan.

You pull your flannel closer for some sense of warmth. The temperature kept dropping the closer you approached the unstable building. The sounds of crickets and wildlife were non-existent. Just the sounds of the asylum creaking and the wind whistling made things even more unsettling. You felt as if you were the only living thing for miles.

You held the newspaper clipping of Jezebel's missing person profile, brushing your thumb across her monochromatic face, trying to memorize it again. You'd been searching for 4 days now, yet for some reason, your memories of her were quickly fading. It didn't make sense considering she's been your best friend for 12 years. You fold the paper into a perfect little square and place it back in your pocket.

The asylum was on its last leg, and half of the building was left exposed to the outside world. This was the last place you thought you'd ever find yourself visiting. Jezebel wasn't the type to come to a place like this, but you had exhausted your options of places she could possibly be.

Goosebumps litter your skin, as the wind howled in protest to your arrival. You step carefully inside the asylum, the floorboards groaning after each step. You begin searching the first floor.

"Jezebel?"

You sigh, she couldn't possibly be here. Intrusive thoughts of her possibly being dead were drifting back to the surface. You shake your head and focus on your surroundings. Peeling wallpaper, cracked ceilings, and rooms that smelled like an old attic mixed with cleaning supplies... and cologne?

That seemed a bit strange, but not as strange as Jezebel's torn cardigan hanging from one of the rafters.

Before you could start to overthink, you hear the floorboards groaning again. You quickly go into fight or flight mode.

"Achoo!"

"Dude shut the fuck up!"

"Geez, it's not my fault this place is so goddamn dusty."

You quickly chose flight. Which leads you to make the stupid decision of running up the unstable-looking staircase.