I don't care if you're fucking with me anymore
seen at 5:51 pm
I'm tired of it
seen at 5:52 pm
We need to talk
seen at 5:59 pm
I want to break up
seen at 6:31 am, Sunday
It was close to sundown, and Daniel still had yet to answer you. You knew he was seeing the messages you sent, the proof he had was right there blinking up at you from your phones screen. You gripped the device tightly in your hand, releasing your grip to let it land on the wood of your back porch beside your thigh in defeat.
If he didn't want to answer you, that was fine. It was great in fact. It helped you to avoid any awkward confrontation with him in having to talk about it. You hated confrontation, always had. So when your phone began to ring, alerting you to a Face Time request you felt your heart and stomach clench in anxiety. You looked down to your screen and let out a breath of relief at the sight of who was calling you. You picked up your phone again and accepted the call to be greeted by the soft caramel colored face of your friend Angie smiling at you.
"(Y/N)!" she greeted in her Colombian accent.
You smiled at her, snorting as she set her phone down to start putting on a green face mask. Angie was one of your closer friends, having known her for the almost two years she had been in America for her college education from one of your shared college classes in early American history. The two of you worked in student services at the college together, sorting files and books and gossiping about each of your separate friend groups. She was laid back and easy going, easy to talk to about practically anything.
"Hi Angie," you greeted her back once you could get your snorting under control. "What is it you need this time?"
She gave an exaggerated gasp, placing a hand to her chest and looking into the camera through her mirror. "So I can't just call my dearest friend on a Sunday night to simply say hello? (Y/N) you offend me and my honor as a Colombian girl trying to make her way in the acting world of college!"
"You have never called this late in the day unless it was because you needed something Ange."
"Ugh- I've become too consistent for you cabrón,"
"Excuse you, I am not a dumb-ass thanks."
"You're welcome hijo," she said as if you hadn't interrupted her at all. "But anyways- Miss Maggie called to ask me to grab some girls files for her, and seeing as I'm visiting some friends out of town..."
"You want me to go get them and bring them to her for you?"
"And the cabrón proves me wrong!" she said, and her laugh nearly echoed back off of the trees at you. "Maybe you are meant to be in that advanced English course after all!"
"Ha ha, do you want me to go get the files for you or not?" you ask her, already standing up to go back inside and get properly dressed to do so.
She gets her laughter to slowly come to a stop, giving you the most innocent smile she can muster as she thanks you dramatically and calls you the best friend she's ever had. You roll your eyes at her antics and reenter your home, telling her that you'll meet up on Tuesday morning for coffee like you always do. After that you end the call with a goodbye and roam around the house for a moment looking for Ezra in order to feed him before you go. You find him in your spare room that is set up with recording equipment for your music. He sits in front of the window, staring out into the dark with the hair on his back and ears stood up at attention.
You raise a brow at this, watching his head slowly move to the left as if he's watching something move across the window. But when you go over to look outside there is nothing there. You give him a questioning look to which he opens his mouth in a panting smile up at you. You roll your eyes and lead him back into the kitchen so you can give him the last of the remaining pasta before you leave.
You lock your door behind you on your way out, jiggling the handle to make sure it's secure enough before stamping down your front porch steps. Your phone hangs by the slightly scratched pop socket Angie gifted you a while ago, blasting from the speaker as you walk in the dark. You sing along loudly with the words, eyes gazing up at the looming dark trees and stray bats and birds flying about to find shelter for the cool autumn night. From the dim light coming from your phone you can see two rabbits off to the side of the road sitting together before they hop further into the foliage. Your head and hands move on their own with the beat of the music, and you twist around occasionally, eyes closed in order to immerse yourself further into the world the sounds and lyrics create for you.
You've always loved the woods, you loved them even more so when it was dark outside when you traveled through them. The hint of danger the darkness brought with it tingled some part of you deep in your chest, and the noise created by nocturnal animals made everything sound all the more beautifully eerie. There was no explanation for your appreciation of forests in the dark. There was no event in your life to have triggered such a response or infatuation, in fact, every bit of common sense told you to be all the more cautious of the trees and shadows they cast at this time. Yet you found yourself to crave walks in the dark through them, hoping you'd find something strange and perhaps magical in there one night.
But you kept a safe distance away from them and only ever went into the woods at night with - at the very least - one of your guy friends. As said before you were quite small compared to other men your age, both height and muscle wise. You were closer to a woman's height, with slim shoulders and more of a swimmers or runners build than anything else. If someone bigger and stronger than you came after you, the only thing you could use to your advantage would be your years of track and agility that came with having such a slim body. But that didn't mean you could out-stamina an attacker when running forever.
Suddenly you felt your phone buzz with a new message.
You stopped to look down at your phone to see a spew of texts from Angie.
Call me when you get there hijo
That way I can tell you where the girls filesa re at
*are
Jesus joder these nails don't want to type correctly
seen at 8:57 pm
You gave a small snort at her cursing.
I told you not to get them done that long for a reason Ange
seen at 8:59 pm
You take the brief moment to change the song before quickly returning to your walk with a new found smile on your face. Your jacket is unzipped, allowing the nice breeze to brush against your chest and neck to keep you cool as you walk the two miles to the campus. You thought of asking Angie why Miss Maggie needed some girls files, especially during a holiday break. But you held off for now seeing as you would call her once you arrived at your destination.
The walk was nice, but between each song and the next, noises began coming from the darkened trees. Sounds of twigs snapping, almost as if on purpose, and tree branches being moved. It set you on edge each time you heard or saw something move as you walked. You tried to focus solely on your music and making it to the college for the files, but by the time you made it onto the deserted and dark property of Hartfield University your veins were thrumming with paranoia.
The student services building was three stories high with large windows in the front and smaller ones towards the back. The inside was pitch black when you walked inside after unlocking the doors. You turn your music off, pulling up Angie's number and calling her.
"So where in the alcoves is this girls files at?" you ask upon her answering. "And you never told me her name so I could look for it in the first place."
"Okay so her name is Drew Penensky, or something like that, and her files should be in the middle drawer of the filing cabinet by the fire extinguisher towards the back." she says, voice bouncing off the nearly empty walls through speaker. "Miss Maggie said the police need her files for an investigation."
"Oh shit-" you say without thinking. "Did she say what's going on?"
"No, I didn't even attempt to ask her. Back home you don't ask questions when it concerns the policía."
You pause in the doorstep to look around the entrance of the building. The ceilings are tall and curved, made of old glass recently updated to help keep the cold out during the winter months. Rows upon rows of books go in either direction and the front desk is just a few feet ahead of you. You take the time to be sure the door closes behind you, then walk around to fish the back rooms key out from one of the many drawers.
"Whatever it is, it must be serious if the police are asking for her files." you say, beginning to sift through papers for a glint of silver in the ring of light the small desk lamp provides. "Do you think she did something?"
"No, no." Angie cuts in. "Miss Maggie told me something had happened to her and she wouldn't be in for a few weeks."
"Whatever happened to her must be serious if they're saying she'll be out for at least a few weeks." you stand after finding the key and make your way down the main aisle of bookshelves towards the alcoves, passing the darkened computer room.
"Yeah," she agrees. "Look I'll see you on Tuesday morning alright? Text me when you make it back home!"
"Sure."
Angie doesn't wait for any further response before she ends the call. You pause a few feet from the door leading into the alcoves to stare down at your phone screen which still displays her contact photo - smiling up at you as if she hadn't just randomly hung up on you. You mentally shrug however, and pulled your jacket closer to yourself as you turned the dim lights on in the musty room to search for the files you needed. You open the slightly rusty metal cabinet and begin fingering through all the files. The smell of old paper reaches your face, and you can't help but to smile at how homey it makes you feel.
A few minutes pass before you find the folder you're looking for, and you tuck it underneath your arm in order to close and lock the cabinet once more. You exit the alcoves, closing and locking the door again as well. Upon turning around you notice one of the computers in the large, glass room across the aisle is turned on now - a blank blue screen staring back at you with text appearing and disappearing over and over. You are frozen in place for a moment as a sense of dread and curiosity settles into your gut.
"What the hell-" you trail off quietly, wandering into the room.
You stand before the computer screen now. The text is moving too fast for you to do more than catch a few words that don't make any sense to your befuddled brain at the moment. You lean down to turn it off when the sound of a book hitting the ground just beyond the room reaches your ears. You quickly hit the power off button, then head off further into the building to find said book.
Your footsteps echo and sound like screams now whenever they squeak against the tile due to your paranoia running high.
You turn your phones flashlight back on and point it down every little hallway the large bookshelves make until you find the book to put it back up on its proper shelf. Before you can however, you notice a large, hooded man in all black staring at you from the end of the aisle. In the light you can make out a dark, dull blue mask on him. He makes no move towards you, tilting his head to the side creepily as you feel your heart give a single, loud thump. You watch as he grips something shiny in his hand, and the small movement of his booted foot taking half a step towards you.
The moment feels as if it drags on forever as you stare at him, eyes wide in shock.
A scream is caught in your throat as a single word crosses your mind: danger.
Time catches up on itself in that moment then. The large man in a blue mask makes a dash towards you. The scream unsticks itself and you turn on your heels to bolt to the door. His footsteps are near silent as he chases after you, and it's all you can do to keep a few measly inches from his grasp. Adrenaline courses through you, pushing you further and further away from whatever danger this man poses to you.
His gloved fingers graze your arm as you swing it back to try and propel yourself further ahead of him, the feeling making you panic further.
A second scream emits from your burning lungs, blood curdling in its volume and intensity. Almost as if you were a banshee announcing someones death as books suggested in the myths you have read in your fleeting down time. And you suppose in a twisted way you are a banshee after all right then.
You burst through the doors and jump from the top of the steps to the pavement of the sidewalk below. Your knees give a pop in protest, but you give your body no time to relax as you push yourself up and down the road. You have no idea where you are going, only that you can feel your pursuers body heat gaining on you. Trees and buildings fly past in a blur. Your breath burns your drying throat and your legs scream at you for rest, yet still you push yourself to get away.
Every light is off at this point in night, making the night all that much darker and pitch black. No sound reaches your ears except for your rapidly beating heart and the sound of shoes slapping the pavement every other step. The buildings vanish at some point, and something draws you to run into the forest in the hopes the trees will slow down whoever is chasing you.
You realize you are terribly mistaken when you feel the wet pine needles and leaves against your face a second later.
You let out another scream and the body above you presses against your lower back in such a harsh way that it breaks the sound off in the middle with a crack of your voice. An arm to the back of your neck holds you in place, and a hand crushes your arm to your back. You can feel the silent tears falling down your cheeks and you gasp for breath rapidly to make up for the air you've lost in your attempt to escape.
You now know why a rabbit who's been caught slumps against the ground when the mouth of a predator is above its neck. It is all you feel you can do besides cry and try to catch your breath. You can feel your captors breathing against the back of your exposed neck and cheek. The smell of it reminds you of blood - salty and metallic.
Faintly you can feel yourself beginning to shake.
"You're not going to try and fight me now?"
The voice is deep, rumbling all the way from his chest down to your back.
You continue to shake in response, too afraid to answer him in any other manner. He gives a disappointed tssk and lets go of your head for a moment to reach for something on his person. You twist your head to face forward for a more comfortable position, only to feel something sharp and cold force your head back against his toned arm holding you down against the cool ground.
Your heart stops once again, breath becoming ragged in your panic. You squeeze your eyes closed as tight as you can, waiting for something to happen.
"You're very noisy, you know that?" he says in a low growl next to your ear. This close the smell of blood coming from him is all the more consuming. "I heard you from a mile away, I even broke branches and moved tree limbs to see if you'd notice. And what were you doing? Were you fucking dancing? In the middle of a street at night? Jesus how dumb can you people be!?"
"I did notice," you thought. "I just didn't think this could happen to me..."
"I can hear your heart slowing down. What are you thinking I wonder-" he breaks off, and the sound of sniffing enters your ear for a moment before he pulls away. "You think I'm not dangerous or something? Is that it? Is that why you're so calm right now?"
He sounds almost hysterical with rage at the notion. His grip on your arm tightens as he lifts your torso off the ground, only to slam it back down harshly. Your teeth gnash together with a loud click, and you taste blood. Your lip stings and you have a headache that gets progressively worse with every slow pump of your heart. You grit your teeth to keep from making any pained noises, but somehow a few grunts manage to escape.
He continues on, rambling and ranting at how slow and calm your heart apparently is. How you should be afraid of him and how he's strong enough to end your life in a matter of seconds. Until suddenly he goes silent, and a chill creeps down your spine. Your breathing has evened out and the pine needles against your cheek dig into your skin when he pushes your head further into them. You register some kind of ringing slowly becoming louder and louder in your ears, almost until the point where you can barely manage to make out him telling you to stay put.
You feel him get off of you, slowly, until you no longer feel his body heat against your back. His hands still hold you down, and his feet make the leaves beneath his boots crunch as he puts more weight on the balls of his feet in a crouch over you.
The ringing reaches a point where it becomes unbearable - almost as if someone is screaming into your ears at a high frequency. The noise pains you to hear, so much so that you wrestle your hand free from his grip, only to reach up and cover your ears to try and shut the noise out. No matter what you do however, the noise keeps persisting. It gets higher and higher, making you wriggle around on the floor of the forest, trying to curl up so that maybe whatever it is will go away. He keeps you in place through your struggle and says nothing as he shifts around. Faintly you wonder if he can hear the ringing too. If he can feel it scratching at your mind and eardrums to be let in and poke around just for the hell of it.
A whimper passes your lips from the sheer force the ringing is putting you though. It's driving you mad with the pain it's causing. All you want is for it to stop, for there to be silence so you can think clearly to get away from your captor. The pressure from his hands leaves you suddenly, and when you look up he's gone from your view.
The ringing has stopped and it begins to rain.
Notes
I think I may want to get a beta reader for this and my other two stories - one of which has yet to even be considered for publishing. I say two and not three because if you haven't yet noticed I went through my entire profile and did some minor editing, which included deleting some stories I wasn't happy with or interested in anymore. That included my first Creepypasta centered male reader Standing At The Sky's Edge which was at the point where I was both no longer interested in the plot or impressed with.
I had no idea where I was taking it, and compared to this and even You Give Me Anxiety, it was almost complete and utter garbage in my opinion. The only reason I even still thought of updating that story was for a friend of mine whom I'm sure doesn't even come on this site anymore so I no longer had a reason to try writing for it again. I think one day, perhaps I might consider writing it again. Make some drastic changes and actually plan it out instead of free-writing the whole thing. At this point however, I want to focus on the stories that actually interest me.
This, You Give Me Anxiety, and some Harry Potter x Male Reader content (I'm not saying which Harry Potter character it will be because it's a surprise ;) ). With that being said, I shall sign off for now until the next time I see you - whether it be for this story here, YGMA, or a completely new story. Good night/morning/evening/afternoon guys, gals, and nonbinary pals!