Candy-Coated Suicide | Elf x Reader [NANBAKA]

Chapter 45 - Deadcrush (Pt. 6)

Made 1/2/2021

Welcome back! Ghosts are scary. Do you believe in ghosts?

Fact Of The Day: If you asked his neighbors before his arrest, they'd tell you Jeffery Dahmer was a real nice guy. He even used to bring them sandwiches- that may or may not have contained his victim's flesh.

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You kept spinning around, warily watching your surroundings. It was extremely hard to see anything a mere six feet away from you, the only light being the dim aura of wall candles. Thank god your mother got them, even when you told her they were useless, because they were the one thing keeping you sane in the darkness - but they only went so far, and it made you afraid to stretch anywhere outside their reach.

Wait, isn't there a flashlight in the cabinet? I remember hiding it from my sister before! HAHA

You filed away from the candle for a minute, peeling open the kitchen cabinets. You weren't sure which one it was in, but it was definitely one of them and you would find it if it killed you. Literally.

The same scratching sound reached your ears, sending another wave of terror down your spine to your toes, but you wouldn't give up. You started to frantically fling open all the cabinets, throwing out whatever was inside just to find the light. The scratching persisted, becoming more violent the longer you ignored it.

AHA!

You almost broke off the cabinet underneath the sink, tossing out cleaning supplies in front to grab the familiar yellow and black object, hurriedly flicking the switch.

It wasn't working.

WHAT? TURN ON! YOU DUMBASS PIECE OF METAL-

You kept flicking the flashlight on and off, even banged it atop the counter to try and fix whatever was wrong. Looking up from the sink to the window in a moment of imprudent frustration, you made eye contact with the figure. Now you knew where the scratching was coming from.

Its desolate eyes screamed of soulless unimportance in contrast to your lively, constricted eyes fighting to make out what was in front of you. You switched from its face to its hand, rested on top of the glass in a manner that almost made you think that it was another creepy statue people put on their lawn. Scratch marks were littered all over the glass, in its own desperate attempt to invade your mind. You took your eyes off of it for just a moment, looking down at the flashlight to figure out what was wrong.

The figure started scratching once more, and you had a feeling that the window would crack soon. You fiddled with everything you could possibly touch, banging the flashlight and flicking the switch. Finally, you screwed the back in more than it was and the batteries made contact with the conductor, powering the light. It definitely wasn't the brightest thing you could've asked for, but it overpowered the candles and best of all, hid the figure.

It shielded itself from the light, throwing its hands in front of its face before ducking down and out of sight. You didn't know how to react, lurching over the sink to look out the window, but it was totally gone.

Each breath was a desperate heave for air, every sound stuck in your dry throat that was now raspy with panic. A good chug of water would be amazing right now, but you didn't have the time for that.

You ran into the living room again, this time with a flashlight in hand that would help to illuminate your way. Better than the candles, anyhow.

"Beat. . . Beat. . . " The figure spoke from somewhere, its voice circling the room into your ears.

"What's wrong with you?" You yelled into the dark, spinning around to try and find it.

"Is your heart. . beating?" It sounded as if it were talking everywhere, possibly running around the house in an effort to find a vantage point. "Or is it an illusion that you're alive?"

"The fact that I'm breathing is enough evidence that I'm alive!" You argued with it, afraid to move from in the middle of the room.

"You could say the same thing to me, could you not? But I am not alive." It stopped, staring at you through the same window by the front door. "My heart does not beat. I do not breathe, or eat, or need for a cup of water like you do."

"Stop trying to bind to me. You're only an evil subconscious that is unneeded." You noticed its eye, throwing the curtain open and forcing it away with the shine of your light.

"Evil is only a seed conceived within your mind. You are the same amount of evil as I am." It circled once more, stopping at the back of the house. "I am tainted with hatred. . . cursed with life, much the same as you."

"You're not thinking, are you? You can't think. You can only learn and imitate the people around you." The scratching reached your ears again, and you bolted into a run to find the window that it was breaking into. You found it at the patio door, hands rapidly clawing at the glass. As fast you met its eyes, your hand pointed up to shine it away.

You might talk a lot, but you're still the same as my hallucinations: afraid of the light.

An idea popped into your mind as you watched it scrunch in pain, curling away from the light with feeble, yet sharp hands. If you could fill the house with as much light as possible, there's a chance to ward it off forever.

The lights don't work though, do they?

Fucking horror movie logic.

You shuffled over to a nearby lightswitch, flipping it, but of course nothing turned on. Instead, your attention was diverted when you heard the sound of metal rattling, clinging back and forth in its position. Your heart constricted, beating twice as fast, if that was even possible. Adrenaline powered you the way back to the front door, where the knob was being forcibly thrown around like a kid that locked themselves outside.

"I'm not looking for any more hallucinations, trust me, I HAVE ENOUGH!" You threw the curtain open once more, angling the flashlight to reach the front door.

Once you saw it crumple away, you rushed down the hall and passed the corner, almost breaking the door to the basement. You only had so much time, and this wasn't a time to be scared, but watching the stairwell descend into the darkness filled you with a certain dread that stopped you for just a moment.

You hesitated, trepidation keeping you from going forward.

Oh, come on! It's just another dark space. The whole house is dark and I've been totally fine, so there's nothing to be afraid of in the basement.

Courage boosting you to take the first step, you ran down the stairs, flashlight in hand. There weren't any candles down here either; nothing but you, your flashlight, and the occasional mannequins.

Wait, what?

You just ran into the middle of the basement, but now you stopped, looking up at the hoard of mannequins around you.

"When did we get these?" You whispered to yourself, right as the door to the basement slowly shut, closing you and the unwanted figurines together.

Joy.

WORD COUNT: 1239

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Thanks for reading!