the reaping - creepypasta x reader

Chapter 22

TW - vomiting!! I will put || before and after so you know when to skip if that triggers you, then summarise what happened at the end ^^

It was early in the morning when the knocks began. The weak sun had barely broken over the treeline, leaving you stumbling grumpily to the door, too tired to remember what had happened yesterday. Not yet, anyway.

The realisation hit you like a brick to the face when you opened the door and Hoodie stepped inside slowly. Immediately, a cold sweat broke out on your forehead, and you stared back at him silently, shaking.
You really, really did not want this. You were certain that you were going to die, your room was the only safe haven you had away from the murderous rage of the creepypastas and Masky's explosive personality. And now it was being stripped away.

"Move," Hoodie ordered, and you complied with a jump. He pulled a roll of black bin bags out of his pocket and tore one off, and began throwing your things inside.

You watched, not really caring as you were more worried about your future livelihood than your belongings. After Hoodie had torn through the first corner of your room, he stood up and looked at you.

"Go get changed," he threw a small pile of clothes at you and snapped his fingers towards the bathroom. Catching the clothes clumsily, you stared at him for a second before sighing and heading towards the door.

"Rude bastard," you muttered under your breath as you shut the door. Hoodie turned his head slightly, notifying you he had heard, but carried on wrecking your room.

As he did that, you washed your face and brushed your teeth, packing all your toiletries into the duffle bag they had arrived to you in a few months ago, before turning to the clothes you had been given. You were confused as to why he hadn't just given you some of your own clothes, but it didn't really matter anyway. Picking up the pile, you inspected them. A baggy, worn-out pair of grey jeans, a black Ghost shirt and a black oversized hoodie.

"Who's clothes are these?" You thought as you shed your pyjamas and changed into the outfit. Although, you didn't mind too much, Ghost was a good band.

You slipped on some socks you had found in the duffle bag pocket, then picked up the bag and stepped out of the bathroom. Hoodie had absolutely torn up your room. All your things were shoved into two bin bags on the floor, the gleaming material uncomfortably strained from how much he had crammed in them. Your furniture was now laid desolate and empty, drawers ajar and your bed at an angle. Hoodie threw some shoes at you, black high-topped converse, which you quickly slipped on.

"Come on," he picked up the bin bags and headed out the door, not waiting for you to finish tying your laces.

Now you were beginning to shake. Seeing your room completely empty had set the situation in stone, there was no turning back now. Swallowing the bile that rose in your throat, you followed Hoodie, attempting to ignore the swirling in your head. God, you felt like you were going to faint. You were familiar with the walk to Masky's room, as you had to walk by it to get to the med bay, but all you could do right now is stare at the bright blob that was Hoodie's back and hope you wouldn't vomit or faint.  You felt yourself ascending the staircase up to Masky's room, each step, each creak of the floorboards bringing you closer to your doom.
The door was already open. Hoodie stepped straight inside and you heard the trash bags land on the floor as he did so.
When you arrived at the top of the stairs, you hesitated. You could still run now. Someone would hide you. E.J or Helen would. You knew they would. If you turned to your left and ran up the stairs, the med bay was just there. Dr. Smiley would keep you safe. Your foot inched to the left, automatically preparing to run. It was now or never.

"Y/N?" Masky appeared in the doorway, and you immediately shifted your foot back. You stared back at him, trying to ignore the sweat that was forming on your back, "what are you standing out here for? Who's clothes are they?"