Something Amiss (Hoodie x Reader)

Thirty Nine: Misinterpretation

A/N: Y/N, the queen of 'it seemed like a good idea at the time'

TW: self harm ideation

(unedited)

Masky drove on past masses of orange leaves, dying vegetation becoming thicker the more twists and turns he took into the bordering forest. Though it was broad daylight, the outskirts grew darker the further into the woods you went. Several times, he and the mystery man behind you got into fiery altercations. Normally, men being immature and yelling may not have frightened you; but these two were fucking feral. You would've been counting the seconds until you arrived at your unknown destination, but you had a feeling that there was far worse than just verbal harassment waiting for you on the other end of this ride.

You'd given up on escaping from the car, at least not as long as you were being restrained. Two against one, and you knew either of them could chuck you across a football field without batting an eye. So, your thoughts turned to Brian. You hoped he'd know where you were being taken, hoped he'd bother to come and get you. But it was up in the air; maybe he'd decide that you weren't worth the effort after all. Maybe he thought you were a lost cause - from the way Masky and the other man had been taunting you, they seemed to be assuming that you were being driven to your death. You had an awful sinking feeling that you were going to be taken to their boss, one way or another.

By the time you arrived, things were certainly looking dire in your head. You knew Masky had the same regenerative... talent... that Brian had - you'd seen the dude get shot and pick himself up in no time. You'd be willing to bet that they all did. So far you'd encountered four of these people, and you had no idea if there were more. You didn't feel comfortable piping up to ask right about now. One thing was for certain; you weren't going to fight your way out.

Never let yourself be taken to a second location - and yet here you were. You supposed this counted as your first time being kidnapped - actually kidnapped. And as you stared forlornly at the abandoned building out the tinted window of the parked vehicle, a knife to your throat, you thought it was a wonder that you'd ever thought of Brian as being cruel.

The ramshackle warehouse was miles from the last one you'd seen on the road, you supposed it was far enough to not even need a city postcode, or be high on the priority list for demolition. It was in awful condition, the outside practically a junkyard. The warehouse itself was composed of naked industrial concrete. Walls were missing in places, and scaffold was exposed. For whatever reason, it had never even finished being built before it became a wreckage. You wondered what had happened here.

There were signs of life here and there, you observed. Cannisters of gasoline lay around the place, dangerously exposed. A power line that appeared to be in working order. The driveway wasn't horribly overgrown, though the condition of all of the trees and vegetation was horrible. Clearly, there were no avid gardeners inhabiting the place.

More disturbing still were the sounds. As Masky, now fully decked out in his familiar white mask, pulled you roughly from your seat, you heard voices coming from inside. Someone was yelling. A woman was wailing. Whoever they were, they sounded like they were being utterly tortured. You wanted to clamp your hands over your ears to block out the morbid screeching, yet Masky twisted your hands behind your back with painful force.

The thunk of a car door behind you. Before Masky could start herding you towards the warehouse entrance, someone entered your vision. Tall, with dark hair and sickly skin, hand loosely gripping the knife that was peppered with your blood. The most horrifying detail about the man's appearance, though, was his disfigured face. Burnt skin and a smile showing his full rows of yellowed teeth, carved into his skin.

"Welcome to our luxury mansion, sweetheart. Five stars!" You gulped as he spoke, watching the way his maw opened and clacked shut. His eyes were jacked up, too, serpent-like and missing both eyelids. Worse still was the look they held, the same one you'd seen in Harry's before he died - bloodlust.