Games (BENDrownedXReader)

Chapter Thirteen-Okay, Maybe They're Real

The ticking of the clock seems louder each minute I'm staying still. Whoever is up there is still trying to freak me out into walking up there. They keep tapping on the basement door, sometimes doing it louder and louder and then stopping all of a sudden. I'm just hiding in a closet, the door painted over and hidden behind a bookshelf. I know I made a lot of noise just to hide in here, and that whoever is tapping on the door knows I'm here. 

I might be paranoid, thinking of who is up there. 

Did Father come back from the dead? Is it one of those creepypastas? Is it Catrina?

I start making up funny thoughts to calm myself down and pass the time. It's dark and Soccer is eerily quiet. When I think it's over, the door flies open, literally. It flies off its hinges and falls down the stairs. The stranger walks down the stairs and steps over the door. 

"Where are you~" a raspy male voice calls out. His voice sounds like it's being dragged across gravel and stone. The man wanders around the room, not caring about stepping in the rotten flesh of the corpses. I'm just shaking, staring out the small slit to see where he is. He keeps using this creepy, singsong voice. I can see his white hoodie and black pants, even some of his black hair and pale face. Is... that a smile on his face?

Suddenly, he throws something across the room and there's a loud CRASH against the wall. I flinch at the sound, and then he starts making more of a mess. I hold my breath, closing my eyes and keeping the door shut. Soon, it stops, and the sound of his boots calmly walking around the basement. I stay still for a few minutes as he walks up the basement stairs. The creaking starts again, and it stops when he leaves the house. 

I sit on the floor and finally breathe. Soccer cuddles up to me, also shaking. He lets me pet him, just to calm me down. After an unknown amount of time, I pick up Soccer, get up on my feet, and slip out of the hidden room. I see the mess and the wall covered in bloody words. 

"He's been looking for you."

I freeze at the words. Who was that? Who is looking for me? I keep thinking of questions as I run up the stairs, Soccer still in my arms, and get out of the house. I don't even think about where to go, I just want to get away from that house. I don't know how long it is until I slow down and take a deep breath. I look around to see where I am. A mile from the elementary school. I walk towards it and look around the fenced in playground. Memories flash before my eyes of a younger me playing with a large group of friends. It was almost like that in middle school, but we just talked until the fire ruined everything, so mainly halfway through sixth grade. 

I remember the day Bethany admitted to me about having a crush on Gerald, and then they became friends and later girlfriend and boyfriend this year. Why am I the one who loses everything I touch?

I start walking again, somehow remembering the path home, the burnt down home. It's rebuilt. They moved on. Mom's friends, the few she had, moved on. She used to tell stories about being in this special place after the death of Grandpa and this friend she had in her early childhood. A ghost. She enjoyed these old games, mainly Zelda games, but her imaginary friend looked a lot like Link. He had differences, red orbs instead of eyes and such.  

I jump at the memory. That description. I start running again, careful to keep Soccer close, and make it back to the house I'm living in, my current home. I let him down, pull the string, and climb up the ladder, not bothering to pull it back up. I'm instantly in front of the "suspect" board, my eyes on the photo of BEN Drowned. His wire wrapped around the burned victim. 

Her best childhood friend was a killer. 

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Was this expected? Probably. 

Word Count: 719