Finney x reader

Chapter 4- The Phone

Finney Pov:

I groggily woke up on the mattress, feeling disoriented. Wait, did that girl actually put me back here? Confusion swirled in my mind as I slowly lifted myself off the stiff, musty surface. My gaze shifted to the girl huddled in the corner of the room, peacefully asleep yet appearing incredibly uncomfortable.

Unintentionally, my attention fixated on her slumbering form. Despite the grime and dirt that marred her features, she possessed a certain beauty, one that seemed to have endured despite the lack of cleanliness. A pungent odor clung to her, though it was clear it wasn't her fault, perhaps explaining why she sought refuge in the far corner, away from my presence. Her frail frame betrayed the effects of malnutrition, her hair tangled and unkempt, while the muzzle obscured much of her once-beautiful face. Suddenly, the sound of a ringing phone pierced the air, and fear instantly etched itself across my face.

A single ring interrupted the eerie silence, compelling me to investigate. I clumsily dialed a number on the worn-out phone, only to be met with a voice from behind. "It doesn't work," the grabber remarked, causing me to slowly lower the phone and face him. "Not since I was a kid," he added, as Y/n abruptly awakened and fixed her gaze upon him.

"Hang it up," he commanded, flipping the light switch on, while I stood frozen, afraid of misspeaking and meeting a grim fate. "Y/n could tell you all about it," he uttered, his eyes fixed on her. I glanced at Y/n, her gaze unresponsive as she stared blankly at the cold concrete floor.

Silence enveloped the room as the grabber approached. "I know you're scared, and you want to go home," he spoke, his tone softening. "And I'll take you home soon," he added gently, his aggressiveness replaced with an unexpected tenderness.

"It's just that... everything's all messed up," the grabber confessed, his gaze drifting off to the side as he released a heavy breath. "I need to be upstairs for a while," he continued, his eyes now cast downwards. I exchanged a quick glance with Y/n, sensing the unease that mirrored my own. "Something's come up," he added, his gaze lingering on both of us.

"What?" I asked, my voice trembling softly as I carefully measured my words. "Never mind, forget it," the grabber replied, his tone low and sinister. Y/n spoke up, her eyes fixed on him. "Are the police coming?" I inquired, taking a cautious step forward. Y/n's question caught me off guard. "Is it Uncle?" she asked, leaving me puzzled. Uncle? Who could she be referring to?

"If you let us go before they arrive, I promise I won't say a word," I pleaded desperately, hoping to appeal to his mercy. The grabber's response sent shivers down my spine. "Oh ho ho ho ho... it's not the police," he chuckled psychotically, tilting his head slightly. Y/n's intuition seemed to have already grasped the situation. "Since when did I let you speak, Y/n?" his voice turned icy cold, cutting her off.

Interrupting him, I gathered my courage and mumbled, "I'll scream. If someone's upstairs, they'll hear me." A surge of confidence rushed through me. "No, he won't. Not with the door shut," he retorted, his gaze fixated on Y/n. "He?" Y/n questioned, confusion evident in her voice. The grabber took a deep breath, clenching his fists before finally releasing the tension.

"With the door shut, no one can hear anything down here. I soundproofed it myself, so shout if you like, you won't bother anyone," he said angrily, exhaling sharply and gripping the door handle. My accusation hung in the air, causing the grabber to freeze and fixate his gaze on me once more.

"Bruce," I began, hesitating for a moment, and then Y/n continued, "Robin," before finally, she concluded with "Griffin." She knew, and that thought weighed heavily on me. "That wasn't me," the grabber claimed, taking a step forward. Y/n's voice barely audible, I caught her muttering "liar" under her breath before the grabber cut her off, raising his voice.