Pure of Mind and Sharp of Knife (Male Reader x Female Creepypasta)

Bolt From the Blue

I cling to my bed sheets as I wake up crying, as always. Following the trail of tears down my cheeks is the image of Clocky taking Nina's knife to the stomach behind the broad shoulders of Dregs. The moment of pure fear is diluted by my remembrance of Clocky's revival. I feel my heartbeat with my palm, taking deep breaths to bring its excessive pumping to a resting heart rate.

Getting out of bed, I wipe away the tears on my face. I've already found out a while ago that sleeping after one of these nightmares is impossible. I pick up the empty glass of water at my bedside and frown. I place it down and sigh, glancing at my phone beside it. I stare at it in contemplation before picking it up and blinding myself with the screen when I turn it on.

Squinting, I navigate to the phone dial and start tapping numbers. I call Scarecrow's number and raise the phone to my ear. It buzzes and chimes until it eventually beeps with negative feedback. Nodding to myself, I turn it off and drop it onto my bed. Zalga's not here yet. Scarecrow isn't, at least. Now that I think about it, this whole strategy relies on Scarecrow's responsibility of not forgetting her phone when she moves to our universe.

A slam echoes down the hallway and I hear Benny shout, "Just wait a few days and I'll send you anthrax through the mail!"

Huffing out of amusement, I grab my stiletto and slide it into my pocket as I rub my eye and pick up my empty glass. I leave my bedroom and feel my way through the void of the corridor as my light-bleached eye does its best to adjust. Having walked this hallway countless times, it doesn't take much to keep me from bumping into anything.

Navigating through the living room proves to be a cinch as I make my way toward the kitchen. A light is on in the room and someone rummages around in the pantry. Despite the high chance that it's one of the girls, the odds of it being an infiltrator is not zero. I click my knife out.

Leaning around the corner, I tuck the blade away and sigh when I see Clocky leave the pantry with a bag of chips. Her clock eye lights the way like a lantern. She walks into the fridge and I enter the kitchen, deciding to sit on the island counter and wait for her to come back out again. Sure enough, she's leaving with dip and walks right past me, the light in her eye having missed me in the darkness.

I sigh, "Did you really-"

Clocky screams at the top of her lungs and throws her dip into the air as she flashbangs me with her eye-light. I close my eye and cover my ears. When I force my eyelid open, Clocky's clasped a hand over her mouth as she stares at me in shock. I stare back while the mansion stays asleep.

"Why'd you scream bloody murder? I was right here!" I whisper-yell.

She speaks at the same volume as I do, "Maybe 'cause I never expected someone to just appear behind me in the middle of the night, prick-lick!"

I rub my eye and laugh, "You scared me just as bad."

"Oh, boo hoo! I gave ya a scare, but ya made me drop my damn dip!" Clocky pauses before laughing nervously, "I woke Slenda up."

"My condolences," I pat her shoulder jokingly.

Walking over to the cupboards, I take out a roll of paper towels and crouch down to help Clocky clean up the mess. Her eye illuminates the floor for us.

"Why are you awake right now, anyway?" I question as I continue cleaning.

"What kinda person goes back to sleep after they wake up from death?" she stops cleaning just to give me a confused look.

"Not many people awaken from death, Clocky. Sorry for asking," I apologize, going back to cleaning.

Clocky lightly slaps me on the cheek, "(Y/N), ya got nothin' to apologize for. Ya gotta stop sayin' sorry for no reason."