Better Luck Next Time! // Creepypasta x lucky reader

Ch42

The plan went as well as I could expect. The burst from the blast rattled the floor, if not through the entirety of the building than enough to draw eager attention from the staff.

The cafeteria glows brightly with the flames and wisps, heat eating away the white finish of the tile floor and painted walls. The smoke quickly becoming to much for Jane and I to bare.

We escaped to the halls as the detectors began to cry, calling the rain from the sprinklers that quickly dampens all within its touch. The power had been cut, drowning the building in darkness only subdued by the hurried red grow of the emergency lights placed conspicuously close to the ceiling.

I slip on the pool of red from Jane's kill, crashing to the soaking tile. Jane, who had spun around at my startled cry, began to back track to pull me off the ground, she tilts her head as her body stiffens at the sound of pattering feet smacking against the wet tiles, approaching from the hall currently separating Jane's and my fallen position.

She second guesses crossing the threshold, worried of inevitable exposure should she be so easily seen.

"Go!" I yell as I pick myself off the ground, kicking off the red stained white traction less slip on's the institution provided, "Find the others, I'll head the other way!"

She seems to frown as she gives me a few quick nod, obviously hesitant, sprinting away with long strides to deter herself from foolishly putting both of us in danger by coming to my aid.

Jane vanishes in time as a group of four guards turn the corner, their eyes finding the two deceased uniforms at my feet. They instinctively reach for the holsters at their belts.

I didn't stay in place long enough to give them a snobbish joke, darting further down the dark corridor with a hand over my forehead to keep the water from stinging my eyes. Panicking staff scramble about, jumping away from my path as to not be in the line of one of their escaped mental patients. Some being shoved out of the way by my pursuers.

Wet paper litters the ground, tearing beneath my feet as my pads slaps the puddles drowning the floor, the blare of the fire alarm rings obnoxiously in my ears, and the red light ominously lines objects and rummaging bodies in a way that does more harm than good for my eyes.

A beautiful mess fit for a horror genre. The perfect ambiance for a mass exodus of serial killers.

The cherry on top. A few scrawny patients muddle around the emptier hallways, their eyes dazed and shifty, they watch me curiously run past, crying out as the guards begin to catch my heels. A few patients stumble away or drop and curl on the ground, while a brave soul opted to full out scream and lunge at the armed men. I didn't look back as the shot rang out, or when the war cry cuts short.

While I do debate using my own firearm, the thought is quickly thrown out. It is not worth the risk.

The hall I am currently maneuvering through takes me to the entrance of Specter Containment, the automated door holds tight, refuting my useless tapping on the keypad. Despite knowing such actions will do nothing to open my way the adrenaline gets the best of me.

I have trapped myself in a dead end, power is currently disconnected, and I have no identification to opening the blockade regardless.

My heart beats rapidly, the opposing silhouettes of my pursuers glowing a hard red as they steadily approach, guns braced at their sides and ready to be used. One such man reaches for his pocket.

My breath hitches as the keypad blinks alive with a subtle green glow, the long high-pitched ping making me jump.

"Access granted, .̴̺̀͝.̵̛͕̈̉͋.̸͈͓͗̾.̸͇̜͋̎.̴̲͈̖̉̎͑.̴̹̫̩̅̎̑.̶̛͔̩̆.̷̢̠̮̖͘͠.̷̧͇͈͕́͝͝.̵̝̳̦̎̈́̎.̶͍̏́.̸̛̳͇̀͌̒.̷̡͖͖̹͑.̷̗͙͚͚̽.̷̢̰̝͂.̶̧͔͂̀̅.̴̧̯̬̘̏́͋̒.̶͓̈́̉͂́.̴̺͒̌̕.̵̏͆̔͑ͅ.̴̨̩͔͔̍̈́͒̕.̷̪̜̎̄.̵̯̯̉̊.̸̤̙̞̂̒͝.̴̫̎̐ͅ.̸̘͍̥͙̏̿͋̚.̸̨̡̣̑̽̃̚.̵̠̒̽͛̚͜ͅ.̵̥͑.̶̨̢̬̥̈́̓̇̕.̵̞̦͗.̸̡͇͎̀̆.̶̜̮͓̋.̵̦͓̬͑.̴̢̡̭̉.̵̡̛̲̗̝̓͆̔.̴̱͋.̶̝̄̓̂͐ͅ.̴̳͙̣̚""