[DISCONTINUED] "I'm With Stupid" || MaleReader X Clockwork

Chapter 1 - Liquid Hate

A/N: This story will contain some headcannon aspects and my own personal interpretations of things. This is for the sake of me having something to work upon.

Also coming from the comments in the info chapter, we'll be going with the normal guy turned killer path. Although I've decided a more different approach is gonna be taken.
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[Y/N's POV]

A radiant sunlight fills the corners of my room as my eyes slide open to the ceiling of my room. Cat stretching with a loud groan, I sit up and kick my legs off the bed and land them on my carpet floor. In a daze, I rub my eyes, noting my empty desk and my closet, which was also devoid of any clothes or hangers.

I rub my eyes once more, blinking twice at the strange emptiness of my room. Where am I? The polished white walls surround every corner and side of the room. My bed, which is for one-person, contains a white pillow and wrinkled white sheets. The floor contains a checkered design of black and white squares, giving me an almost eery familiarity.

This isn't my room. Maybe a test room? Could I now be a victim of human testing?

The mere thought of all the needles and cold treatment receives a drowning feeling in my heart. Okay, stay calm. Just calmly ask the scientist men why you're here. Maybe they'll answer in some way.

The front door, which is the only non-monochromatic color, contains a brown creamy wooden texture, standing at the corner of the room. I walk to the door and gently squeeze the door knob, pulling down a few times.

Locked.

There has to be some way out, right? Maybe a vent? Is there even a vent? The ceiling remains empty of any decorative accessory — except for a small vent for air conditioning.

I can't use that, it's too small. I can't crawl through it either. I guess my only option is to just scream. Scream and get someone's attention.

My stomach rises as I slowly breathe in a huff of air, hunching forward with fists closed, mouth open with a scream that echoes loudly across the room. With one kick to the front door, the door smashes down with a glass shattering noise, excess smog arising from under it as I wave it out the way. I look down at my feet, realizing what I had done.

Did I just... kick down the door?! Was my leg strength always that great? No, maybe the door just wasn't that strong. That's the only logical explanation, right?

The space beyond the room I was in resembles a dark movie set. With cameras on grip tripods, filters, lighting and all related accessories, everything else fits what you'd expect a behind the scenes look of a film to look like. The walls seem to be made of carpet, dark turquoise specifically, surrounding each space and corner except for a few vents.

"Hello?!" I shout as loud as I can be. "Is anybody here?!" my voice echoes, yet nothing but the humming of the fluorescent lights eggs me to keep moving forward.

I lick my lips and wipe the wetness off of my forehead with my shirt before I continue walking forward. My footsteps echo with a chill running down my arms and spine. Continuing on, I reach a door, which has a large sign at the top saying 'exit'.

Hoping it really is the exit, I squeeze the knob and twist it open, leading me to a room of black and white checkered patterns. A single fan with lights swings above the ground, the rest a dimly lit area, almost like a suspicious alleyway down the street.

Should I go in? I almost feel tempted to. I want to turn away, but I can't. It's almost as if an invisible giant hand is keeping me in place, making its sights dead set on luring me in.