The Mask Maker's Greatest Work {Uta x Pregnant!Reader}

Bloodshed

The paper bags in your arms became more and more of a burden with every passing second. With Uta being so busy at HySy it was up to you, the pregnant wife, to do the grocery shopping this week. It was an inconvenience, but oh well. You had been pushing off hunting as much as possible, so coffee had become a necessity at your house. You would go and hit up Touka for a pick-me-up every once in a while, but it just wasn't safe to be out on the streets alone.

Ghoul on ghoul violence had skyrocketed in the past few weeks. Most assumed that it was because the ghoul population was on the rise, but you and Uta knew better. There was a certain group of abhorrent beings that had begun to eat their kin; the cannibals. They favored the taste of ghouls to humans and they spent their nights stalking the shadows to hunt their own. It was a horrifying thought that ghouls, who were once the top of the food chain, now had a predator breathing down their necks.

You didn't understand the want to feast on a ghoul. Their insides smelled of rotting fish mixed with dirty gym socks so you couldn't imagine them tasting like anything but. You shivered at the thought of some filthy lowlife feasting on his kin.

You heard a soft splash behind you. Your {e/c} orbs flickered over your shoulder to catch a glimpse of a man about seven strides behind you whose face was hidden by shadow. The only thing that you could make out was the soft glow of the phone that was pressed to his ear. He seemed extremely uninterested in you and you breathed a sigh of relief.

"Mhmmm." The man's whisper was barely audible, but your keen ears could make out what came next. "She's right in front of me."

Your eyes shot open as a wave of terror washed over you. Your unborn son gave a kick in response to the tension and you forced yourself to walk faster. A string of whispered profanities spilled from your lips as the man's footsteps began to match your pace.

"Where ya goin, gorgeous?" The man called, his voice raspy and filled with malice.

You ground your teeth as your fingernails buried themselves in the bags that you carried. You pretended to not hear the man, naively hoping that he would take the hint and go away.

He didn't.

You felt a large hand grip your shoulder and fling it so that you would turn to face the body that it belonged to. A soft yelp escaped your parted lips as the bags in your arms dropped to the sidewalk. Your eyes locked onto the male's face, or to be more accurate, the place where his face should have been.

What your eyes found as a mask that would cause even the most stoic of men to shudder. The form of the mask reminded you of a dragon, it had scales carved into it that were a glossy black. The wicked smile that had been painted onto the lower portion of the mask boasted jagged teeth with bloody tips. Horns sprouted from the forehead of the mask but they were small and almost bud-like.  Black and red orbs glistened from the eye sockets of the mask and, in that moment, you knew that you were three thousand shades of screwed.

The man before you practically radiated malice. He was at least six inches taller than you, and you were pretty tall for a female. His muscles threatened to rip through his tan skin with every move, his worm-like veins throbbing with the hate that filled him. His breathing was short and excited like the breathing of an animal who had his prey cornered.

You parted your lips to speak but your tongue betrayed you. A small yelp bubbled out of your throat in place of the threats that swirled in your brain. You could feel the heat of an aggravated blush crawling up the smooth skin of your neck to your clenched jaw.

"What's the matter?" The man began, his voice slightly muffled by the plastic of his mask. "Cat got your tongue?"

You stared dumbly at him. You were paralyzed; your brain betrayed by your body.