Cold Eyes || Gaara x Reader

||48||

I reached my house and entered to see my father lying on the floor.

"Father?" I called him, when I didn't get a response I cautiously put my bag down and kicked my shoes off before hesitantly going to his side. I check for a pulse.

"He's.... not...." I got scared and quickly ran through the living room. I grabbed the phone and called the emergency line.

"Hello? What's your emergency?" the woman on the other line asked.

"I need help. I came home and found my father on the floor, I checked for his pulse but he has none," I told her, trying to keep myself as calm as I could.

"Ok, miss. You're doing well, thank you for keeping yourself calm. Please tell me your address and I'll have an ambulance come to your aid," she told me, I zoned out as I heard something shuffling in the hallway. It can't be the butler because it's 6pm on a Friday, he has the afternoon off on a Friday.

"Miss?" she called for me.

"There's someone in my house. I'm not alone," I told her quietly as I stood against the doorframe and peeked out hesitantly.

"Alright, miss, please I urge, give me your address instantly!" she sounded more panicked than I was so I told her my address, "stay on the line. Keep updating me. There is a team coming to your aid now."

"My father's still in the corridor, I guess it's not the zombie apocalypse," I tried to joke and lighten the mood, more for her rather than myself. I had started to become numb to the panicking.

"The team is 4 minutes away," she tells me, "do you know how to defend yourself against any attackers?"

"Yes. I am trained in martial arts," I told her.

"What's your name, miss? The team need to know your name," she asked me. It's a bit late in the call to ask for my name, don't you think...?

"I'm f/n l/n," I told her.

"Ok, y/n, hold in there just a little longer, they're 3 minutes away," she told me. But she said they were 4 minutes away 2 minutes ago!

The floor board behind me creaked.

"They're behind me," I said almost inaudibly.

"Y/n?" she asked, "please repeat that."

I turned around to see a man all in black with a knife drowned in blood.

"I'm sorry, miss. It would seem I forgot how my houses layout is," I told her, a tear rolling down my cheek as I dropped the landline.

I'm trained in martial arts. I'm trained to defend myself. Why is it now my life depends on that training that I freeze up?

"Miss? Y/n?" the person on the other end was shouting something, "they're outside! Open the door for them!"

"Miss f/n l/n! Please open the door for us!" the sound of people banging on the locked door echoed through the house. The attacker was distracted and I suddenly found all my strength. I quickly swung a strong kick to the side of his head and knocked him over.

Using that opening I run out of the living room to be hit by the knife in his hand.

"No!" I screamed out, more in frustration but loud enough for the people outside the door to start getting agitated and bang on the door more violently as I made my way to the stairs. The door is too far away. I could at least get to the top of the stairs and grab my fathers 'old England fancy walking stick' thing and use it as a weapon.

Forcing myself to my feet I limp up the stairs and grab the walking stick before throwing myself in my room and slamming the door, wedging the stick in and going to my bedside table to get my pocket knife. It's not going to be much help against a full ass butcher knife but it'll do.