Heisenberg X Reader: The Victim

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The forest was dark

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The forest was dark. Dense formations of tall trees obscure your vision as you hopelessly run away from the fire, your leg aching something horrible. The helicopter you crashed with caught flames after hitting the treetops. You spare one glance behind you, remembering the horrifying image of the dead pilot you left in the burning vehicle.

It was supposed to be simple. Flying across from the old Romanian village, seeing if anything from the air could explain the complete loss of contact with the outside world. The whole village went radio silent within moments, causing surrounding establishments to get suspicious. You and your team had barely made it towards the edge of the village before a malfunction with the helicopter's controls occurred.

A blast sends you forwards, the fire finally reaching the fuel tank and causing an explosion. Your head hits the trunk of a tree in front of you, hard. The explosion ignited trees and other bushes around it. The hot air hits your face as you slump down against the tree you slammed into.

Everything feels eerily quiet. Between the crackling of the fires around you and the soft howling of the wind you can nearly feel a sense of comfort. Your eyes close and you find yourself sitting in front of a cozy hearth, warming up your hands gently. The sound of boots crisping the snow beneath them completely passes you by.

//

You awaken with a start, immediately gripping your head in regret as it aches at the sudden movement. The floor you were asleep on is slightly damp, evident in the way the moisture has seeped into one side of your clothes and hair. Blinking a couple of times, you try to survey your surroundings.

The room is dark. The only source of light comes from a small, thick window built in the door that seemed to be the only way in or out. Your eyes adjust to the darkness. The same heavy footsteps from last night send you fleeing towards the edge of the room in a panic, scrambling to get as far back from the door as possible.

The lock clicks loudly. Then the door swings open. An orange glow obscured by a tall, cloaked figure fills your vision. The man regards you for a second. His eyes are obscured by round sunglasses, a hat covering his head. The small puffs of cigar smoke create ringlets in the air above him.

He steps into the room, carefully, like approaching a wounded animal. You let him get closer, noticing the gap between him and the door growing bigger as he nears. He stops in his tracks.

''Try it,'' he rasps.

You lock your jaw, keeping your eyes on him. He doesn't make a move. You take the chance and set off, not nearly getting halfway to the door before an arm catches your waist.

The man laughs. ''Didn't think you actually would, little spitfire.''

He sets you down roughly. ''You'll become a good one, I can tell already.''

The following days are dark and hollow. You lost track of time as the darkness of your cell replaced the daylight. Then, the man enters your cell again, after days of shoving food through the door. He approaches you forcefully this time, hauling you upright and pushing you towards the door.

Karl Heisenberg OneshotsWhere stories live. Discover now