~"Liar, liar..."~ (Mortality x Reader)

2

You huffed and got out of your bed once again. Someone has to be fucking with you at this point. A weird, elaborate burglar? Who knows, it could have easily been a damn ghost. You grinned a little at the thought. What a treat that would be, you've been bored all year. Your vision went black once more, your own slight malnutrition getting the best of you. After about ten seconds, the transient headache that came with it subsided, but...

It was still black.

You looked around, a little bit more awake. A slight adrenaline rush took you out of your sleepy haze. 

Glancing behind yourself, you noticed a large white door. Upon you seeing it, the music was immediately cut off. Almost as if the person behind this had... noticed. Noticed you. You froze up and inspected the door carefully.

The door had an intricate painting on it of a clown on a blue background. Its mouth was downturned to the point where it looked to have been melting, and two large tears rolled down its cheeks. It had a yellow collar with small bells on it, and a green nightcap draped haphazardly over its head. Its hair was curly and red, the same color as its round nose.

You shook your head and, incredibly hesitantly, reached out to the handle. A small prick of static electricity hit your fingers, but you were too anxious to really notice it. Upon twisting the handle, though, you stopped. 

You thought you heard someone cry. 

A quiet, almost childlike voice, but still a cry nonetheless.

You both dreaded and relished in opening the door. As you had joked to yourself before, this year had been boring as all hell to you, and you wanted a change of pace. Why not have some fucking ghost clowns break into your house?

The door creaked slowly as you opened it, peering inside. Still blackness. Great. You nearly closed the door behind yourself, but decided that it would be better just to leave it open a crack. God knows how fast you would've had to escape. You've seen your fair share of horror movies, and you're well aware of how strange it can get.

You wandered aimlessly around the room. Humming to yourself absentmindedly, you waited for the cry to sound again. You thought that might guide you to your - you dreaded the word, as making immediate negative assumptions is a bad habit of yours - "tormentor". 

Instead, you were met with a present. A white gift box, a red ribbon tying the top into place. 

You attempted to force out a meek "Hello?", but all that came out was a choked breath. You cleared your throat and attempted this once again. "Um, hello? Is anyone there?"

"Hello. C-come closer.." a similarly meek voice said from the box - likely the source of the crying, as it paused and sobbed quietly. You obliged and knelt down to a closer height to the box. You guessed a talking gift wasn't that bad.

A small hand reached up from under the lid and set it aside. The same clown on the door looked up at you from the inside of the box, its eyes teary and entirely black. 

"Ah, um, hi. Are you alright? I... heard you crying." You rapped your knuckles on the floor anxiously.

"I'm," it sniffed, "I'm not okay. I am the Sad Ghost of the Past." 

"The past? Is this - is this a joke? I'm not a -" you tossed up air quotes, "I'm not a 'Scrooge.' I'm not even rich." You smiled at Sad incredulously. 

Its frown widened at your words. "I'm here t-to show you the past. You've been a bad person over the years."

Oh boy. You hear this from yourself enough. You definitely don't need a ghost clown to tell you everything you've done wrong over the course of your entire life.

"I -" you began, but it cut you off.

"You've been rude to your friends. You don't give anything -" it sniffed, "- to anyone. And worst of all..." it leaned forwards, "You don't believe in Christmas." 

You raised your eyebrows incredulously, lowering your voice a tad. "... so the worst part of all of those is that I'm not religious?"

Sad sobbed. "Hush. Let me show you what you've done." 

It pulled a mirror out from somewhere inside the gift box, and held it up to you. You saw yourself in the mirror. You, yourself, remained static, but your reflection began to frown. It looked almost uncanny; a frown like Sad's. It cried perfectly symmetrical, almost cartoonish tears. Your reflection then slowly began to distort and melt, as if you were dosed with psychedelics.

Its eyes were wrong. Your eyes.

You scuttled back from your seat on the floor in shock. A silent scream that sounded more like a death rattle escaped your throat as you stared back at your warped reflection. Stumbling, you got up and ran to the door.

"Wait!" Sad yelled, its voice getting deeper and more... well, horrific. "Come back. You need to accept that you're a bad person."

You slammed the door shut behind you.