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

Cheers

After waking up in Ann's hospital wing, I sit up only for the bruising on my ribs to remind me of the fight with Nightmare. It's been a day since I removed her key, and Slenda is still cleansing her soul gem. Apparently, Zalga's curse had begun to feed on Ally's soul itself. If we hadn't saved her within another two months, she would've become another Terror. Thankfully, though, we've dodged a bullet.

I slowly lift my arm, observing the fresh cast and sighing, wishing I could stretch it out. The dislocated shoulder was easy to fix. The radius bone in my left arm, however, was snapped in three separate areas. It would take a week or so to heal even when taking into account the Brand's accelerated cell regeneration.

Scanning the whole area from her desk to the dark operating room, I discover that Ann's nowhere to be found. It's odd, considering she spends practically every waking hour in this place. Someone lets out a high-pitched laugh outside in the hallway.

I slide out of bed, careful not to strain my abdominals in fear of reopening the wounds on my chest. I hear the laugh again and, on the second listen, it comes off more sinister than hearty.

I grab a scalpel off of a nearby tray and lean outside of the room, quickly glancing down the dark corridor to the right and into the hallway leading to the common area on the left.

Slinking out into the living room, I see Scarecrow laughing to herself next to two others on the couch: Helen and Angel. In front of them, the TV buzzes with static and film grain. Her laughter makes me shrink back into the shadowy edges of the room. I circle around to get a better look at her and notice that Helen and Angel are... dead. Their throats have been cut open and Scarecrow continues to laugh at the blank screen.

I stare at her, my mouth agape, questioning whether or not I'm dreaming. I push the scalpel into my hand and wince at the sharp pain when it pushes through. There's no way, right? Is this a lucid nightmare? I glance at Helen and Angel to see if they've regained any life. Their eyelids droop and their heads hang low.

Scarecrow... she wouldn't do this. I know she wouldn't... so why's she laughing? On second thought, if she killed two Proxies, the rest would surely have avenged them in response. Then what happened to the others? Could they all be...?

Like a wildfire, I find my emotions too intense to control, and I surge forward howling as I jump the couch. Scarecrow whips around at my hollering and catches my hand, a grin on her face as we tumble to the floor. While I'm on top of her, I lean into the knife, trying to overcome her superior strength with my bodyweight. As soon as her arms give out, I'm snagged back by Angel and Helen's corpses.

"What are you doing?" Helen rasps, her tone suggestive of wrongdoing.

I try to pull my gaze away from her lifeless eyes as I wrench my arm away, "Scarecrow's just killed you! H-How are you even able to move?"

This has to be Zalga's doing. No one can make corpses walk again except for her. Before I can lay a hand on Scarecrow, Angel restrains me. I can do nothing except yell for her to let go and fight against her grip to kill Scarecrow before she can run. Only... she's no longer laughing or grinning.

Scarecrow stares with horrified eyes as she lies on the floor in freezing shock. Behind her, the TV plays a movie as everyone waits for my next move. My heart sinks when I turn back to Helen and see her throat perfectly fine, the blood gone and her eyes wide with alarm. Angel studies me with both concern and caution.

The scalpel slides out of my hand and clatters to the floor. I stop struggling as I stare back at Scarecrow in bewilderment.

Angel lets me go before turning to Helen, "He is off his pills, is he not?"