Jðkêr//Är†hµr x RêåÐêr ïmågïñê§ & ðñê-§hð†§

• The Inheritance (pt.4)

** A/N hey guys, I hope you're all keeping safe out there?

I'm so sorry for not posting as regular as I would like to. I've been struggling to find the motivation to write recently. It's like, the ideas are all there but I can't motivate myself enough to get them typed out. So, thank you all for your continued patience and understanding, especially
Avengerssoulmate , MarinaCasares & VeloySR595 ! Your support means so much to me 💖

Nothing much happens in this chapter, other than reader & our adorable clown getting to know each other a little better. I promise the next update will be more exciting!

Hope you all enjoy!  💜 EAG20 **

-- 1st person POV --

The sound of the old clock echoed down the hallway outside your room; alerting you to the fact that it was now 2:30 in the morning.

Christ, is that all it was? You'd never known for time to drag by like this.
Alone in this spooky, shabby room of the asylum, it felt like the longest night of your damn life.

The ghostly voices had been plaguing you intermittently. So much so that you'd begged, pleaded, and even resorted to commanding them to leave you be.

They didn't listen.

Perhaps they didn't hear you like you heard them. Or perhaps it was all in your head, in which case pleading for them to be silent most likely wouldn't work.
On the other hand if they were the voices of spirits, maybe they enjoyed tormenting you.

Whatever the reason, you were tired and emotionally overwrought. Your nerves well passed being frayed, they were in tatters.

In desperation you'd pulled the old comforter over your head, hoping to find some peace, some way of escape. Ironically you weren't finding the comforter at all comforting. You were struggling to breath. The heaviness of the damp, musty quilt was suffocating, but you persevered.

Perhaps suffocating slowly was preferable to being driven mad by disembodied voices.

Just as you were cursing the feebleness of the human body for it's dependence on oxygen, another sound caught your attention.

You held your breath, what little of it you had, as your ears strained to listen. The sound of a key turning in a lock, then the slow creak of the door....your door.

An icy chill of terror raced over your skin and made the small hairs on your arms stand on end. You shivered and pulled the bedclothes tighter around you.

But then your senses started to kick in, and you began to reason with your irrational fears.

It had to be a human hand that had turned that key, surely. It wasn't a restless spirit. The tortured soul of some long-dead Arkham inmate.

It had to be someone of flesh and blood, and that someone.....could only be one person.

"Jo?" You called out, throwing the covers back with a flourish.

You'd never been so happy to see someone in your entire life.

Except....what you saw when you emerged from your quilt-cocoon made all the colour drain from your face.

In the doorway stood a lean figure with a ghoulish white face, like something that had stepped straight off the set of a scary movie.

You heard an ear-piercing scream that was surely shrill enough to shatter glass, and it took you a few frantic seconds to realise it was in fact actually coming from you.