The Next Morning...
The sun greeted my cousiosness by glaring down onto my closed eyelids, my head pounded as my eyes burned.
I slowly sat up on the couch I had fallen asleep on the night before, the vodka bottle was still spilled and the television was still... shattered.
Atleast that marked off one of their entries.
The f/c walls were hidden in the sun's gaze, the curtains were drawn open displaying the snow like wonderland outside. "Fuck." I groaned, swinging my legs off of the side of the couch and struggled to stand up. I held my head as I stumbled into the kitchen, it was cold, the depressing season even managed to find it's way into my home.
My sore legs took me to the oven, Flipping on the switch and grabbed an open bag of ramen from the counter besides it. I walked around the kitchen gathering what I needed, a pot and filled it with cold water. I walked back to the oven where I could already feel the heat radiating off of the stove, and set down the pot.
I let my hands rest on the wooden counter on both sides of the oven, leaning onto it for support as I closed my burning eyes.
I was alone, just like I was so many years ago. Waiting on the couch for Grandma to get off of work, waiting for mom to come home 'happy'.
Waiting for dad to get out of prison, to get out of death.
"Why me? What the fuck...why me? OUT OF ALL PEOPLE WHY ME?!" I shouted, clenching my fists and let my nails dig into the wood. It wasn't that I was selfish, why do I even to say that? At this point in my life I didn't give two shits about other people, I just wanted help.
To feel alive again.
Not some corpse, moping around it's home waiting for its mommy and daddy to come home when it knows they are dead, gone from their after life.
SSSSSSS!
"Shit!" I gasped, quickly grabbing the handle bar to the pot and lifted it off the stove. I wanted to set it down, but my eyes flashed to the black ring on the kitchen table from Mom setting down her macaroni pot while it boiled.
Once the water cooled down, I set it besides the oven and shut off the heat. I reached over and grabbed the ramen packet and poured in the necessary ingredients, and began to stir.
My eyes trailed out to the kitchen window Infront of myself, the snow piled onto the glass begging to be let in.
For a short moment, I felt free, untill a dreaded meeting brought me out of my daze.
KNOCK
KNOCK
"Y/n? You home?"
My eyes widened, I nearly dropped the wooden spoon into the pot at the man's voice. The door was locked, but the voice from behind me, outside made me think a gun was pointed to my head.
"Y/n? I know your in there, please, let's talk." The gruff voice spoke again, pounding on the door once more. I gulped, no way in hell I was going to respond or talk to him.
I heard the door handle jiggle, and him ram against the wood of the door trying to brake in.
"Y/N! Just open the damn door!" He was getting angry now.
My mind acted on its own, my arm reached to the side of my frozen body and slid out a large butcher's knife from the knife block. The wooden handle bar was cold against my palm, I was sure the blade was colder.
I backed away from the stove, shaking.
A dog never forgets he who kicks it, a dog never forgets the tone in your voice when it does something wrong. A dog never forgets when you look at it a surten way, a dog never forgets, and neither does a victim.
I would do anything to not go to that door, to not see him or the others ever again.
Before I knew it I was at the door, unlocking it.
I opened it just a bit, so only a part of my face was visible. The winters breeze escaped in, along with Tim's threatening gaze. "Ah, you are home." His smile, like a predator trying to blend in. "Get off of my property." I stated, I held the knife behind my back as the door handle was tightly pressed against my palm for how frightened I truly was.
In the background of my front yard, in the driveway, a blue van was parked. I could make out a figure in the driver's seat, a man, his gaze met mine.
Brian.
"Y/n? Do you mind letting me in? It's getting cold out here." Tim's voice brought me out of thought once more, his intention of having me cornered was made clear. "Did you not here me? Masky? Get. The.hell.off. of my property!" I seethed through clenched teeth, he only chuckled.
"Are we playing sheriff now? C'mon, you've been gone and I wanna talk...what happened? You've been gone for months!" His eyes showed worry, but amusement was his deep within them.
"Oh don't play dumb mother fucker, You were the reason I was gone! You, you hurt me, you abused me...made me stay with that sick fuck Jeff!" I almost screamed, slamming the door shut.
Only for Tim's boot to be put in the way, he pushed his way in and slammed the door shut for me.
"We can do this the easy way, or the hard way." His voice was suddenly deeper, threatening. Now, this was Masky. The man who you never messed with, he was the polar opposite of fluffy and kind like Tim.
He was the killer.
And Tim was the victim.
The knife I held was now displayed on my side, Masky's eyes flashed down to the blade and to my e/c eyes. "Heh, are you going to use that on me? What happened to just talking?" There it was, the kind and sweet voice again.
Masky was a manipulator, and he was damn good at it.
I didn't care about hiding the knife now, but what I did care about was who it was going in...and why. I gulped back my words, furrowing my eyebrows at the man. "I do, want to talk Y/n.
That's why I came here, to make sure you were safe from those monsters." He let out a dramatic sigh, stepping forward and forced me to walk back into the kitchen.
"Right." I spoke unsure; he was also a hypocrite.
"Good." Tim smiled, motioning for the kitchen table. I took a seat on the opposite side of him, eyeing his every move. He rested his arms on the table as he folded his fingers into a tight first, his hazel eyes were dark with reason.
I tightened my grip on the handle to the knife.
"I can see that your hurt for what they did, I'm sorry for happened to you...I would've been there to protect you and stop you from getting in the hands of th-" "STOP LYING TIM! You keep on saying them when it's you!" I roared, loosing control. I pushed the chair behind myself as I stood, gripping the knife. I held my palms against the table, looking down on the man with hatred.
Tim bit down on his bottom lip, his knuckles went white with anger.
"I'm not a lair, Y/n, please...sit.down." Tim growled, his dark eyebrows also knitted together.
I let a chuckle escape my lips, biting down on my tongue. "Okay," I shook my head up and down a bit for agreement, and sat back down on the wooden chair. "Then what are you?" I asked, it was an honest question.
"We're immortal untill he wants us dead."
His words repeated in my mind, his laughs.
"What do you think I am? Y/n? What are you? Surely humans don't eat human meat." Tim leaned forward, narrowing his eyes on me as a smile grew on his face. It was crazed, reckless. He tilted his head to the left, blinking once as he watched me close.
He wanted a reaction out of me.
"Tim?" A familiar voice called from the front door, I pressed down harder on the knifes handle. I couldn't have two of them in my home, I couldn't go back there. The door shut, footsteps echoed throughout the silence as Brian made his way to the kitchen we sat in.
Tim snapped his head to the side, glaring at Brian.
I looked too, at the dirty blonde. Why did he look so normal when his intentions weren't to kill me? At the time he didn't look normal though, he had that animalistic glint in his blue eye that made me relive unwanted thoughts of before.
The same eyes I looked into when I had his gun pressed up against my forehead when I did something wrong, same eyes fired up with anger when I fought back. And yet, they were the same eyes that looked at me with care.
"Oh hey Y/n, Is everything alright-" Brian was cut off by Tim's low, threatening voice. "Shut the fuck up and mind your own God damn buisness, we're having a talk and I don't think your welcome to join right now." Tim's upper lip twitched as he looked back at me and smiled, "Go ahead, inform me on your theory's."
Brian looked at Tim, and then me.
And then the knife in my hands.
He stayed though, after he walked out of the kitchen I could hear him pacing around in the living room and looking through stuff.
"I-" I was cut off.
"You want me to show you something? Something that reveals what we are?" Tim changed the subject, maybe it was Masky.
He slid off his tan coat and set it on the table Infront of him, even from where I sat it reeked of cigarette smoke. Tim then rolled up the sleeve to his flannel, up to his hairy upper arm. Then, I could see it. My eyes widened as the symbol that was similar to the ones the victims had, the one Ania, Isaac and Sidney had. "It's a sign from him, a reminder that your never truly free...I figured I'd cut the shit with 'ya since a couple years ago it was pretty clear I'm a bad actor." Tim sighed, his eyes rested on his mark as well.
He then slid out his phone, it had a black case with dark red stains. The screen had a crack but it still worked, it looked so small in his large hands.
He raised it up and leaned across the table so it was closer to my neck, SNAP!
Tim leaned away and looked down on the image he had just taken, his face was empty of mockery or amusement. He flipped the phone so I could see, for the knife to tighten in my grasp.
"He has all of us, the reason I came was because he sent me and Brian. I don't want you to come back, I wouldn't wish it apon anyone. But your to deep in this shit like I was, no matter what happens your going back to him." I felt myself begin to shake, on my s/c flesh in the shadow of my hair/sweater in could see the symbol on my neck.
I remembered to all of the times my neck burned, when the buzzing started from their and when my neck always itched in that spot.
...
"Did you get a tattoo?" Someone asked as I past them at the market, most likely a family friend.
..
For the first time I was speechless, I had nothing to say other than to let out a quiet gasp.
It's not like I didn't know I was one of them, but I had gotten myself to believe I wasn't. "No, this can't be..." I pushed myself out of my seat, my noise scrunched up in disgust.
Could I carve it out with the knife in my hand?
Tim looked up at me, I knew what he wanted to say.
I wasn't going back, I never wanted to go back to that hell hole. Why? WHY DID IT HAVE TO BE ME?!
I HAVE A RIGHT TO BE SELFISH!
Why am I the monster in this story?
I'm the monster in my own story, what the hell.
"I'm not going back, you can't make me go back." I snarled, glaring up at Tim as he pushed himself up and out of the wooden chair as well.
This was Brian's cue.
He walked in, I could see the pistol in the front pocket of his dusty blue jeans. He wanted be to feel threatened, scared. "Well, you really...don't have a choice." Tim spoke, he was deep in thought while his body moved for him.
I gritted my teeth, eyeing the exit on the opposite side of the room that led to the staircase. For a moment, I had my intentions clear to my mind.
I would lock myself in my room, if they got in I would go into the roof and figure it out from there.
Brian stood at the entrance, his arms at his sides as his eyes switched from me and to his partner waiting for one of us to act first, to give him the "go" to switch to hoodie.
"Y/n," Tim spoke, flattening his palms as he set a Silence throughout the house with just his voice.
"Would you rather have us take you, or him?" Tim whispered, was that an option? To wait out until the big bad man of my life decided to take me away?
I would rather be the one to bring myself to them, to be the one at the end of the blade.
I was about to take a step to the left, ready to run for the exit, before I heard something I dreaded.
"Y/n? Oh my Lord," Everyone froze, turning to look at Grandma who stood by Brian with shock on her face. Her e/c orbs went from theirs to mine, tears began to spill as she shook. "We thought you died!" She sobbed, running to me only to get pushed back by Tim.
"Y/n?! Who are they? Get out!" Grandma yelled, glaring at them. "They were just leaving." I whispered, glaring at them as well. "Y/n, you know we can't do that." Hoodie spoke up, standing behind grandma. I watched her gulp, she began to violently shake in rage and fear.
"Y/n? What have you done...Your Grandfather, H-He was supposed to make this stop!" Grandma whispered, her eyes wide as she began to stare blankly on the ground. The room was ice cold, quiet.
"She knows to much." Tim mouthed to Hoodie, and my eyes grew wide as my eyebrows furrowed. Before I could react, Hoodie quickly wrapped his arms around Grandmas neck and rammed her against the near wall. "NO!" I screamed, about to jump over the table. Grandma came alive with rage, clawing at Hoodies face and and began to kick and scream. "Y/N! RUN! RUN FOR GODS SAKE!" She roared, biting down on Hoodie arm.
I didn't hesitate to run, throwing a glass plate at Tim the last noises I heard from that room were plates shattering and Grandma's grunts for me to run and hide.
My legs ran as my body did the thinking for me, I knew every part of this house and the only place I needed to be was my bedroom. I heard Tim's footsteps behind me, loud stomps on the wooden steps.
Once I reached the top I swerved around the corner and sprinted to my room, I slammed the door open and rammed it shut. I felt tears of anger and anxiety spill as I quickly ran and dragged my desk over and against my door, pushing against it.
It was quiet, to quiet.
I heard some curses from downstairs, heals running against the wood of the kitchen tiles and to the stairs. Two pairs of feet ran up until a loud thud was heard, I resisted the urge to run out and go ballistic. My heart raced, my nails dug into the wood of the desk as I practically leaned on it for support. I was shaking, on the verge of a panic attack. Tim was most likely waiting me out, Brian downstairs trying to make Grandma louder to lure me out.
I would be only human to be a coward and save grandma, putting my life in danger.
The silence didn't last long, the groans on the steps grew louder as more weight was put in their old bones. I looked up to the ceiling, the glow in the dark stars were not glowing.
"Y/N! I LOVE YOU! IM SO SORRY! IM SO SO SORRY! DON'T LET THEM GET YO-"
BANG!
BANG!
BANG!
THUD
my lower lip trembled as my grip loosened on the desk, I took a step backwards as Tim took that as the opportunity to slam open the door and slip in from the crack in-between the door and wooden desk. I didn't care, shock sent me looking like a stoned teen taking drugs for the first time.
A purple vase was in Tim's hands, he gripped it so hard I swore it would shatter and send his palm bleeding like hell.
"Do you want to forget?" He whispered, I didn't know what he meant but I shook my head up and down. As he stepped forward I stepped backwards, I tightened my fists as adrenaline finally began to run in my veins.
"You killed my family, My grandfather, my grandmother...My dad, didn't you? YOU DISGUSTING FUCKED UP MONSTERS KILLED MY FAMILY?! KILLED ME!" I roared, sprinting forward and let my hands wrap around Tim's throat.
I pushed him backwards and against my bedroom wall with a loud thud, I could feel my arms shaking with how great it felt to feel... something again.
My nails dug into his flesh as one of his hands still held the vase, the other gripped my wrist tight.
Tims teeth barred as he struggled to breath, within every second my grip only got tighter and more fierce.
With one long breath, blowing the scent of cigarette smoke onto my face, Out of the corner of my eye I could see Tim pull his arm far back, and quickly rammed it up against the back of my head with such force it felt as if a wooden stake was stabbed through the back of my head. I instantly let go of Tim's neck, wrapping my arms around Tim's shoulders for support. I clawed at his back, struggling to stand. I could feel my head begin to itch as the glass pieces sunk in, sucking away my reality.
My eyes rolled to the back of my head in pain, I could feel Tim's hands latch onto my sides and pull me up as his curses were muffled.
I felt my legs be dragged backwards, and soon enough I felt the warm sun on my back. We were by the window, by the soft rug.
I slid down in his bloody arms, my eyes went in and out of focus as I realized what had come of my life. My hands were latched on the back of Tims back, over his shoulders, gripping his tan coat.
Tears were in his eyes, regret and guilt. "I'm...so..so sorry, oh Y/n..oh..." He whispered, gently kneeling down and cradled my limp body in his arms.
I didn't know why he was sorry, it was clear what his intentions were and they were to kill me.
But did they work? Was I dying?...
The back of my head itched, itched so badly from the puncture wound of the glass vase. I could feel the glass chunks stinging and digging deeper in my scalp, numbing the buzzing in my mind.
Footsteps were heard behind our bodies, the rug below me was so fuzzy...just like Callie's long white hair. I could feel her by my side, and for real this time talking.
"It's okay, we're okay...Let it happen, shhhh."
I suddenly lurched forward, coughing up a clot of blood as my throat itched. The crimson liquid ran down my chin and onto the crook of my neck, staining my f/c tank top. My hands slipped down from Tim's slumped shoulders and onto his chest, pressing up to his warm body while mine grew cold. The fabric of his flanneled shirt was soft and warm, unlike the tan coat that was on his sides that were rough and cold.
"Tim?" Brian whispered, from above, I could see Brian looking down on me and Tim's kneeled body with a frown. I hated when he frowned, it always meant something bad really did happen. "I killed a fellow proxy...I killed another fellow proxy, Brian." Tim whispered, shaking as his hazel eyes were stuck on mine.
Was I dead?
"A..m..dEad?" I gurgled, blood began to taste normal on my tongue as it pooled up in the back of my throat. Brian stifled a chuckle and kneeled down besides Tim, resting his hand on his friends shoulder and whispered something to Tim.
Tim smiled, his eyes went soft. "Yeah, She'll be okay...Y/n, just sh..close your eyes." Tim whispered, cupping my cheek.
Why were they mourning over me?
..
THEY DONT DESERVE TO FEEL LIKE THAT ABOUT ME!
STOP!
stop.
Stop caring for me, stop looking at me as if you love me.
..
But, I did, I did close my burning e/c eyes.
I heard Brian hum a quiet tune, maybe even a lullaby. Tim rocked my limp and bloody body back and forth in his large arms, my hands slipped down his hard but warm chest and onto my own.
And it felt cold as my heart began to slow down and go into hibernation.
The room was suddenly warm and dark instead of the cold and bright colors that replaced it, the warmth was so inviting, I closed my eyes as a smile grew on my bloody lips.
The fight in me was gone, the scared dog in me was put down, the victim in me was accepting my trauma.
My hearing grew red, my vision grew red, my taste went red. Everything went red, while my memory and view of life went black.
...
Just wait, the me before the screen reading these words.
The one in this story, me, you.
We see what is written down and told, but, do we remember it truly?
Will you remember?
______________________________________
I'm a taking break off for Thanksgiving
Peace
After this then I'm moving onto the last book, and uh...see y'all there ig
I hate to be that person but once this chapter gets a decent amount of views ( most likely ten lol ) I'll post the ending, just want everyone to catch up n shit.
HAPPY HOLIDAYS