Tempted (Antisepticeye x Reader)

5

You haven't eaten all day, so you decided to walk up to your local deli and pick up a couple sandwiches to bring home. You would have just made something from what you already have in the kitchen, but you just needed to get as far away from your computer as possible. Plus it is nice to watch the sun set over the city buildings. Something about the orange glare off the glass is calming.

Its not a long walk up to the deli. It's just a few blocks over. But driving would take thrice as long to get there as walking because of the pedestrians. The deli is located in the middle of a shopping plaza where a lot of business people go on a lunch break, teenage kids hang out, and just a nice place for a parent to go on a walk with their kids while the other works a day job.

At this time of day, -late evening- there aren't as many people as usual, but still enough to cause traffic.

The sight of the people makes you wonder if any if them watch Jacksepticeye. How many of them know him? Are any of the millions of subscribers he has walking down this street? Do they realize that chaos has broken out through not only his but multiple channels? Even if they did, they are really good at hiding it, because none of their faces have a look of shock, or concern. Maybe because you are the only one that truly knows what is going on, and that it's not just an act for entertainment.

As you start to cross the street to the deli, something hits you. Not literally. But it definitely felt like a single wave of something pushing you off balance. Like a really strong gust of wind. It causes you to stumble a little to the left and grab a hold of a metal bench that is conveniently there to break your fall. You grab hold of it with one hand.

You feel dizzy for a second, but you regain your balance quickly. You stand up and look around to see that no one else looks stirred.

I just need food, you think. No energy.

You begin back to walking again but are quickly abrupted when a feeling overwhelms you. Your body is flushed with a certain eerieness that dwells in the pit of your stomach, like a warning of some kind. It makes the hairs on the back of your neck stand up.

Something is wrong.

You look around at your surroundings. Nothing seems out of the sort. People are walking from place to place in no rush. Some are in groups taking on the sidewalk. Some couples are happily enjoying their meals and shakes on the curb. Nothing seems wrong.

Then you hear a yell. It was a man. Just a short, muffled yell. It sounded like it came from across the street, near the deli. You jerk your head towards the sound, and you look across and into the deli window. And you see a man, wearing all black. But not like Anti. No, this man is taller and larger. His baggy sweatshirt hood is pulled up so you cant see his face, but by the reactions of the people inside, you can see that he isn't there for his late night dinner.

As you watch intently, the man stalks up to the front counter, where a short, bony, old, African American man stands. He has thinning grey hair that barely covers the top if his head. His hands are up near his face in surrender and his eyes full of fear. That's when you see the gun.

And before you can think, you are running.

Towards the deli.

Cars honk their horn as you jump in front of them, but you don't hear them. Nor do you stop.

As you jump onto the sidewalk, you see the man grab a hold of the old man's collar, and shove him down on the counter, gun pointed right into his temple. The old man's eyes squeeze shut.