One Killing Maze

Chapter 4

Y/n woke with a start, her chest rising and falling quickly with each rapid breath. Shooting up from her position on her bed, Y/n sat at the center of it while looking around. She lifted her head to scent the air but did not find any smoke. It was a dream; a terrifyingly realistic one at that. Even though Y/n knew that she was back to reality, she could still feel the burning sensation on her hand which prickled with fading pain.

After sitting there for a while and gathering her senses, she turned her body near the edge of her bed and slipped off the mattress without a sound. Light barely flooded through her window, signifying that time did pass, but slowly. She would have enough time to take a shower and change before she left this place for good. Y/n hurried over to her closet and pulled the sliding door open slowly so as to not disturb the other two that were still in the house; she wasn't sure if they were sleeping or keeping watch, but Y/n would rather not deal with them right now.

Her closet was barren except for a few items she had planned to leave behind or wear the day after. Her eyes had immediately fallen on the hoodie that hung at the far wall, hiding behind a jean jacket. Y/n removed it, looking it over. It was cleaned and placed in her closet the first day she had arrived; Y/n hadn't worn it since, though, even with it clean Y/n could spot various places where stains used to be. Small strings feathered the hem of the hoodie, stretching out in various places. One tug and the hoodie could be stretched thin.

Y/n took the hoodie, a black t-shirt, and dark blue jeans out of the closet and took some undergarments from her dresser before hurrying quietly to her bathroom. Since Jeff the killer had used her bathroom to get rid of the blood on his knife (and most possibly his hands), she had expected it to be a mess, but it wasn't. Only two towels littered the floor, one stained pink.

Ah.

The girl set the clothes she was going to change into after her shower onto the granite counter and then gingerly plucked the dirtied towel from the ground and tossed it in the corner of the bathroom. Y/n pulled out a clean towel from below the sink, one of the last of them, and placed it next to her clothes; then, she started her shower.

Y/n immediately began to think back to her dream. She did not recognize the house that she was in when she woke up nor did she know the voice that had spoken to her near the end of it. Of course, the voice belonged to the charred figure that approached the destroyed door, but it did not exit the burning building, it only reached out to her.

"Why didn't you save me.." Y/n repeated aloud, scrubbing the suds that stuck to her drenched, h/c hair. She allowed her hair to soak in the hot water that came from the showerhead and frowned. Why did everything have to be so cryptic?

The shower she took felt like it lasted only mere minutes. She struggled to leave the running water since she knew that it would be her last hot shower in a while. The thought of becoming dirtied and sweaty and without a shower for almost a week made her all the more reluctant to leave...but she did eventually exit the shower. Y/n changed quickly after drying off, the hoodie still a tad big on her frame, but it was just as comfortable as the first time she wore it.

Y/n exited the bathroom and spotted the specks of light cascading across the floor from the ceiling windows. The female quickly hurried to her bedroom and began to gather her things. Her duffle bag filled tightly with all the essentials she would need; her closet devoid of the articles of clothing that would no longer fit her or she just disliked in general. Y/n glanced longly at her bed, still messy and unmade from her rude wake-up. Y/n dropped her bag and hurried over to the bed and began to pull the covers and blankets back over the cold sheets neatly, fluffed the pillow, then stood back by her bag. A made bed, just like her mother would've liked.

Grabbing her bag and her phone that had sat charging overnight, Y/n slowly left her bedroom after taking in the room one last time. This wasn't her original home (Y/n had trouble learning this during her first week here), she knew this, but it sure felt like it. She could recall her and S/n leaving for what they thought would be a fun adventure that led to this mess. Y/n sniffed and headed downstairs.