I Want To Make You (Eyeless Jack X Prosthetist!Reader)

Chapter Twelve

        It had been only a week, week and a half, since Ryan had... passed. Between the incident and now, Jazz hasn't once stepped out of her apartment. She had been extremely quiet since the incident, silently wallowing herself in her room. Her work gave her a week off to recover, and since it was considered taking medical leave, she wasn't going to have to worry about rent. Which, gave her all the time in the world to grieve.

However, I hadn't been so lucky to catch a break to properly come to terms with Ryan's death. In fact, it had been just the opposite.

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I had woken up, a tingling feeling radiating in the back of my skull. Fighting sleep, I rose from my bed, and immediately a note on my end table caught my attention. At first, I had assumed Jazz came over but hadn't the heart to speak with me directly. Yet upon grabbing the note I froze. It was in terrible handwriting, much different from Jazz's beautifully scrawled words. With the handwriting and curt wording becoming ever so familiar these past few days, I immediately felt my heartbeat quicken. I squinted my eyes to better see the words. 'Hush now.' I shuddered, sending a glance around my room for any sign of a person. To which, I was greeted with a painful silence and an empty room. One might think it to be reassuring to not find anyone still lurking; frankly, it was anything but. A sense of dread worked its way through my body. It just so happened I was having anxiety about thoughts of stalkers and now there's a real problem. I shivered, crumbling the paper into a sizable wad. Leaning over I press the palms of my hands against my eyes, raking my nails on my scalp. Letting out a deep sigh, I begin to compose myself.

After a good while of feeling like I was losing my mind, I now had evidence that it wasn't just all in my head. One would normally find that reassuring and begin to take action. However, I kept shrugging off all the red flags, trying to pass it off as my brain playing tricks on me. I tried to reason every excuse, weigh every plausible cause, trying to dissuade the feeling that... maybe, this was real.

A cruel voice in my head sounded, telling me that I was delusional. It had only taken a day after Ryan's passing to start receiving vaguely threatening notes. At first, I had convinced myself that or Jazz was playing a cruel trick on me. Then, I started questioning myself, not remembering writing myself notes and then finding them later. I thought it was bad before, the paranoia that sent shivers up my spine and making me break out in cold sweats. It turned out to be nothing but a cruel appetizer for what had come next. The few days that had passed went by painstakingly slowly as each of my nerves began to stand on end. It was only on the fourth day since its happening, that I figured it might not be just in my imagination. Despite that, thoughts continued to swarm at the back of my skull, "You're in denial, Y/n)."

Was I really going crazy? Maybe it was all due to the shock of having lost a friend? Yeah, that could be possible. I wasn't exactly in a stable state. There had definitely been plenty of reasons to lose my marbles, my mental state definitely wasn't reliable. Between the ever-frequent nightmares, an inordinate amount of stress, and the shock of losing Ryan had my mind buzzing. It wasn't impossible.

Thoughts like those kept filling my head, making me doubt my own experiences; making me doubt myself. The thought of being stalked for real was so unfamiliar to me, yet it was there; the nagging feeling of being watched. Just like a few weeks ago, when this shit all began, but so much worse. I'd be lying if it hadn't sent my head in a tizzy.

It was back and forth, back and forth; debating myself over and over again. Was I crazy? Could I actually be in danger?

I don't know. I don't know. I don't know.