.:Slasher One-Shots:.

🪓 Jack Torrance:. Angel

Category:. Horror

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The freshly waxed, wooden floor squeaked as a flash of (h/c) bolted down the dim, lifeless hallways. Turning this way and that, never having a clear direction, only one thought racing through their head as fright took control of their movements,

'Get out, get out now!'

Their face felt tight and tingling as a choke made its way out of their gasping, chapped mouth, realizing they'd come to a dead end. The endless, salty tears on their face mixed with the hysteria and confusion of how such a wonderfully innocent dinner turned so horrid, completely blocked all sense as they turned around again, finding a new route just down the hall. So lost in trying to find somewhere to hide, they ran into one of the many Chippendale side tables that lined the halls, tumbling down with all of the items, smashing all over the floor. Candles, a vase, and metal trinkets, all caused a symphony that seemed to shout, 'here I am.'

"Fuck..." Was all they managed to gasp as they clawed through the mess of strewn about objects. Though their entire body was now screaming in pain, it was their now almost useless legs with fire streaming from the gash in their thigh, the smallest hint of bone peeking out that caused the most distress.

"(Y/n), my Darling Angel, please come out... don't make daddy mad now..." Well... that certainly caused even more distress.

In pain, exhausted, and now a little disgusted, they grasped the nearest doorknob next to them, the shining label near the door seemingly glowing, Room 217. The thundering pain shooting through their leg was ceaseless as they dragged themselves through the door, shutting it with a small thud.

As they searched the room for a hiding place, they heard it...

"(Y/n)..." The voice they had loved so much, a voice that had betrayed them. His voice bounced off the walls, making it hard to discern if he was far or near. Terror crept from their toes making its way up their legs, finding their racing heart and clutching tightly as they grasped the nearest piece of fabric to wrap around their leg.

Wrapping their broken leg sent searing pain through their whole body, whimpers making their way out of an ever trembling mouth. They carried on, not wanting to leave a blood trail as they continued dragging themselves through the room, only finding an empty chest next to the window.

"What a fucking mess." Horror filled their body as they scrambled to their feet as best as they could, clutching the comforter tucked neatly into the bed next to what they hoped would be their saving grace, though they knew he was relentless and it was only a matter of time. With a click, the chest opened, thankfully empty.

Bracing both hands on opposite sides, they did their best to heft their body weight into the barely big enough space, scraping the small bit of bone hidden behind a now soiled white towel. Lungs filled with fire to scream, they pushed through with whispers of gasps and cries, laying their good leg down first before positioning their broken one, not giving in to the black and white dots that flashed around their vision.

A loud pounding filled the room. Snapping their head to the door, their heart fluttering, they could see that with every pound the door's hinges gave more and more. With a final look around, they closed the lid, waiting.

"Angel? Answer the door for me, my darling one." The cooing of Jack's voice sparked memories. Had this been hours ago, they would've opened the door, and seen his glinting eyes, and devilishly, handsome smile. Just that and they would've melted, allowing him to sit beside them, flirt a little, touch a little, never too far, after all, they were just the babysitter. Still, they couldn't ignore the unspoken want there, an unspoken lust. Now, all that there was, was terror and a blinding sense of pain in all ways.