Better Luck Next Time! // Creepypasta x lucky reader

Ch 44

Our feet splash through the puddles of cold and clotted blood, the air has become nauseatingly contaminated. The abundance of bodies that once lined the ground have shrank in numbers, the remaining are not grotesquely ripped apart or gutted, taken out in a more human manner, simple, quick, some too quick as they still wiggle weakly and groan.

Living patients roam the halls further through the containment, their obvious destination being the front lobby. Jack and Jonathan side eyed, greeted, or deviously smirk at few of the passing strangers, it is good knowing that we have accomplished in releasing a few excapies they know.

Jeff and Clockwork have been making good progress, and, with plenty ward doors being thrown off the hinges, bent, or nowhere within the vicinity, I can assume we were not the only ones freeing the patients. 

"Getting busy in here", Jack comments, his head tilting from shoulder to shoulder as his elf-like ears twitch, his gnarled lip is curled in a stark snarl, "Getting loud... and smelly."

My horribly tractionless shoes had failed me once again, I have half a mind of simply running barefoot through the slick tiles. I had the terrible misfortune of falling once before, I was unable to catch myself and ended up re-soaking my damp clothes, my two companions had a good chuckle at my expense. Though my pride was hurt I had been more concerned about the open hole in my abdomen, the strain of my ab muscles during the fall irritated it enough for it to fill the cloth clogging the well. Jack assured me once more that I am needlessly worrying.

Regardless of the circumstances things appear to be progressing well enough.

My party gives a pause as a heavy and hearty giggle erupts from a room further down the hall, a loud and exaggerated laughs that tickle the hairs on my neck. It is familiar.

Jonathan scoffs, rubbing the bridge of his nose with a sigh, looking as though he had inexplicably become exhausted.

He gave me a pleading glance, a grimace twitching at the corner of his mouth, "can we just walk past, we don't have time to deal with his shit right now."

"I don;t know Jonathan, I am highly curious."

He frowns at my playful demeanor.

"Just a peek, i'll make it quick, ya?"

He flattens his hand over his face in defeat as I brush off his plea. With a bright grin I place my fingers flush against the hard door that appears to have been kicked in, swinging back into the frame while leaving a fist sized hole to replaced the handle and lock.

The door is lighter than I imagined, taking little effort to move the door ajar, the hinges squeaking in a subtle cry.

The room is trashed, debris covering the ground as remanence from my physical I had the day prior. The interior is dark, while it lacks emergency lights a sickly sweet burn from a single scented candle is enough to brighten the silhouette of the two individual who stand before it.

Laughing Jack stood before the flame, his grandiose figure straight, the shadows flicking over my cover in a way that mesmerizes my eyes. Eerily his body curves imposingly over the one in his grasp, the fire light outlining each and every pointed fang that lines his crooked mouth. He is proudly holding someone high off the ground, his claws effortlessly curling around the parsons neck using a single outstretched arm.

I can hear him talking over the others chokes and sobs, his words indecipherable whispers.

I can feel Jonathan place himself over my shoulders to share my view, he scoffs, mumbling an insult to the demented clown before us.