Woodsboro
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Y/N finally stumbled into her house, exhaustion etched across her face. She ruffled her hair in frustration before slamming her keys down on the table. With a burst of weariness, she forcefully shoved the coat rack to the ground, the clatter echoing through the room. The sound of her frustrations intensified as she kicked a dresser, letting out a weary yell.
"JESUS FUCK I CAN'T CATCH A GODAMN BREAK!!!" she exclaimed, as she grabbed at her hair, the weight of her failures and the constant stress pushing her to the brink. The room bore witness to her release of pent-up emotions as she grappled with the relentless pursuit of the elusive killers.
Y/N, breathing heavily, surveyed the aftermath of her outburst, papers along the floor, her coat rack slightly crooked now and she probably had a broken toe or two. The echoes of her frustration lingered in the air, a stark contrast to the quietude that settled in the aftermath of the storm. The relentless dance between hunter and hunted had left its mark, both physically and emotionally, and the shadows in her home seemed to absorb the remnants of her weary frustration.
Y/N angrily took her boots off, the exhaustion evident in each movement. She raided her fridge, searching for solace in the familiarity of her own space. As she looked around, she opened the freezer, finding that someone had already enjoyed a meal she prepared. An odd comfort washed over her, a sense of connection with an unseen presence that seemed to share her space and understand her struggles.
She closed the freezer and sat on it with a sigh, leaning her head against the wall. In the solace of her kitchen, she began to rant, her frustrations pouring out like a cascade of unspoken burdens.
"Damn, Hannibal and Will Graham, they know what their doing...Hannibal knows that I know about his little appetite preference, and he brung that hunk of an empath along to psychoanalyze me. I can't shake the feeling that Billy and Stu are up to something, I know it's them, I FUCKING KNOW IT, and my friends are in danger, I'm in danger. Vampires, blood pacts, and...and STUPID DREAMS ABOUT A PIECE OF BURNT BACON... I can't catch a break!" she exclaimed, her voice echoing in the kitchen as if the walls themselves absorbed her words.
Unbeknownst to her, a man lived in the walls, listening to every word, a silent observer of her tumultuous life. Another figure, hidden in the attic, remained a haunting fear from her past, a presence that she had yet to discover, yet she had a feeling, that's why she fed him, for closure that he'd stay there and not bother her possibly
As Y/N poured out her frustrations, the kitchen became a sanctuary for the unspoken, a place where the echoes of her rants mingled with the shadows that concealed both secrets and unseen presences.
Hugging her knees to her chest, Y/N poured out her frustrations to the unseen listeners in her home. "They're all shady... Every. Last. One. of them, and I'm risking getting my friends hurt, but there's only so much I can fucking do. Hannibal and Will Graham asked me to help out with an FBI investigation... FBI!!! They say I have 'underlying abilities that can help them'; they just want to use me for my visions because I know stuff. While I'm sitting here playing... FUCKING SOLDIER!!!" she yelled, ranting the weight of her responsibilities and the manipulations of those around her pressing down on her shoulders.
The kitchen absorbed her words, the shadows silently witnessing her struggles. Unbeknownst to her, the man in the walls and the figure in the attic continued to listen, each holding their own secrets in the symphony of whispers that enveloped Y/N's chaotic world.
"What do you think?" Y/N asked no one in particular, yet she could hear the faint breathing in the wall behind her, a presence that seemed to offer a peculiar comfort, like a warm hug waiting to embrace her. To any other person, it might be unnerving, but Y/N, with her experiences in the paranormal, saw it as just another part of her chaotic world. She leaned further into the wall as a tear of stress ran down her face.
"I just really want some sleep... I'll get enough tomorrow. I'm suspended anyways," she sighed, the weight of the day's events settling heavily on her shoulders. "Can you believe it? I tackled some guy today in the hallway for impersonating the very people that are trying to kill my friends, and then he had the audacity to get a boner, like, get a grip. I should've ripped out his fucking teeth and shoved 'em up his ass," she scowled, her voice a mix of frustration and anger.
As she talked to the breaths and leaned her forehead against the wall, she closed her eyes, seeking solace in the eerie symphony of her home and the presence that seemed to listen, offering a strange sense of understanding in the midst of her chaotic reality.
The man in the wall felt an unnerving but familiar urge to protect Y/N, an affection that had grown over time. He loved her dearly, appreciating the simple gestures she made, like acknowledging his presence and tracing the wallpaper every morning as he followed her through the walls. To him, these acts were as significant as holding hands, a connection that transcended the physical barriers that separated them.
Y/N continued to talk, her voice carrying through the walls and reaching the man who silently listened. "I can't trust anyone, can I? Hannibal and Will Graham, those killers, my so-called friends... And now, this vampire shit. It's like I'm caught in a twisted web, and every move I make just entangles me further, and I know there is more shit to come..." she mused, her vulnerability evident in her words.
"But you... whatever you are, you've been here for me, haven't you? Always listening, always understanding. It's strange, but I appreciate it. I wish I could just... I don't know, escape from all of this," she confessed, her words carrying a heavy weight of longing for a respite from the chaos that defined her existence.
The man in the wall, hidden from her sight, absorbed her words with a silent understanding. In the quiet moments between her rants and confessions, he found solace in the presence of the one person who had unknowingly become his companion in the echoing halls of the old house.
As Y/N sat up away from the wall, she sighed, expressing gratitude to whatever unseen presence appreciated her efforts. She extended her thanks to whatever resided in the attic for cleaning his dishes and protecting the house. With a sense of routine, she silently prepared dinner for both of them, placing his plate in the freezer—and saving one for her and the other for the mysterious figure in the attic.
She ate her food slowly, cleaning her plate meticulously before taking the second plate to the attic. A sense of fear lingered as she approached the attic, but she did it for appeasement. With the familiar ritual completed, she walked down the ladder to her room.
In the comfort of her space, she removed her shirt, leaving herself in a black sports bra and cargo pants. Unconcerned about sleeping in harsh jeans, she turned on her fan and settled into bed. The night unfolded, and soon the mice began to play—or, in this case, the unseen occupants of her mysterious home.
As she drifted into sleep, the echoes of her life continued to dance in her mind, she took her medicine before bead that helps with her dreams, she didn't want dreams of that burnt man again, but it was inevitable. "Goodnight..." She said softly to whoever had the heart to listen. Still not giving a shit about cleaning her bandages.
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(Edited)
(___stress, me too girly___)
YOU ARE READING
Not that smart... (A slasher various x fem!reader)
FanfictionY/n l/n, A 18 year old girl, kind and spunky. She loves scary movies and anything to do with it, But when she has a strange dream everything goes down hill from there. As she goes to school while dealing with drama. of a recent killing at her school...
