𝗦𝘁𝗿𝗶𝗸𝗲 𝗢𝘂𝘁

𝔹𝕠𝕪𝕗𝕣𝕚𝕖𝕟𝕕 || 𝓒𝓱𝓪𝓹𝓽𝓮𝓻 19

Your day was purely made up of relaxation and cozy warmth. Ever since you had awakened, your figure lingered lazily in bed. You hadn't even gotten breakfast solely because you were prepping your stomach for today's event. It was going to be your first time back at that diner. That lovely diner filled with beautiful memories of an ordinary life. You overheard Masky rambling about Toby sneaking off to that wretched diner, however, he never got in trouble. Maybe it was Toby's way of pleading for normalcy. Although, the boy loved his job fair too much to resort back to a normal life. Waffles were the only driving point you could think of.

Suddenly, the scent of fresh pancakes and sugary sweet milkshakes attacked your nostrils. Your behind laid firm on a crimson cushioned booth, and your eyes wandered hazily across the familiar surroundings. You were transported to the 80's set diner, however, the usual bright, colourful setting was overtaken by a gray gloominess. Your gaze was abruptly snatched by an ominous figure appearing before you, and brushing the air with their hands as though they were speaking to you. Not a sound pierced the eerie atmosphere, and you couldn't quite understand what they were trying to signal.
The feeling of fullness entered your bladder. Interrupting the 'conversation', a sensation you remembered all too well.

"I have to use the bathroom," You say, swinging your legs out of the booth. Your eyes stared into the figure one last time, trying to identify who they were supposed to replicate. They were unsettling however your heart trapped a sense of warmth towards the figure. They created a sense of easiness and hospitality. It was calming yet crazy considering the setting you were in.

You started to walk towards the bathroom, although you bumped into something hard yet mushy. Scanning up at the 'object', you recognized it, or them, immediately.

It was Toby. He had on a blue surgical mask, his chestnut locks spread crazily in the air and his caramel pools stared into you. His deranged, blood drenched figure acted as a skyscraper in front of you. There was an unstable psychosis with his eyes as they stared into you- testing the strength of your soul. He slowly lifted his hand to retrieve his signature orange handled hatchet from behind him, staring into you like prey.
He really was a psychopath.

"I love to hate you,"

He slowly lifted his hatchet over his head, slamming it down to split your head open. A crimson substance filled your vision as the gloomy world came to a blur. All that remained was psychotic laughter bouncing around your mind.

Your breath hitched as your eyes immediately snapped open, and hard pants escaped your throat. Your widened orbs ran frantically around the room to gather your surroundings. For a moment you had drifted into a soft slumber, plunging yourself into a warped reality; yet, if felt so familiar. It was like that had happened, but the perspective was manipulated.

Why the hell was the dream so peaceful, yet so anxiety inducing?

Collecting your jumbled thoughts, you peered over to find the time on your bright red alarm clock.

3:05 PM

Seeing the time made your heart soften it's pace.

It was time to get ready.

Toby's POV

"I'll be a minute," the hooded figure uttered, pausing beside Slenders soaring oak doors and bracing himself. He gently tapped his gloved hand on the door before it creaked open lightly. Giving me a small nod, he disappeared into the doors and soft mumbling was heard behind them. I was left in silence for a moment, however, two familiar voices faintly played down the hall- growing louder by the second. I pressed my body against the smooth wall, peering down the hall to observe the two approaching.