Pure of Mind and Sharp of Knife (Male Reader x Female Creepypasta)

A Perfect Storm

Zalga and Zalgo disappear from our front lawn. I blink at their absence and touch my face to the glass to check the walls of the mansion. The Proxies on either side of me show the same concern. Ally backs up from the door, cautious that it may be broken down. Are they on the roof?

Slenda, in contrast, laughs jeeringly, "Zalga is in no position to attack us. Lazari was right."

"You're saying Zalga left? After all that?" I pull my hand out of the pouch of arrows.

"She may be hiding her presence," Slenda clarifies, patting Lazari's shoulder thankfully, "but she did not bring an army with her. As I said before, she was merely spewing idle threats."

Helen, who holds Sally close to her side, asks, "What now?"

"Why don't we attack her?" Lulu shouts down the hallway, provoking a clamor of agreement from the other Proxies.

Tobi's stuttering echoes into the living room, "I-If she's got n-no Dregs, we're e-even. The w-war can stop t-today!"

"We're more than even," Rouge grunts, "We've got three of her Terrors, including her kid!"

"Silence! We will do no such thing until we organize ourselves," Slenda buzzes in our heads before continuing vocally, "I must confer with Slenderman to develop our strategy. Rouge, Jane, Jackie, stay on watch. The rest of you may go about your business."

Zalga just showed up at our front door and we're going to go about our day? Discontent with moving on, I strap my bow across my back and head upstairs to find my killing gear. We might be in the safest place in the world, but we should still be ready. When I crouch down to pull the box containing my garb from under the bed, someone enters.

"Yes, Jess?" I guess, noting the confident weight she puts on her heels.

"Damn, you can be a weirdo, y'know," she huffs, not impressed.

I hold up my feathered garb and toss it on the bed before searching for my pants, "I'm guessing you're not here to mock me?"

Jess sits at the end of my bed and looks down at me after I place the plumed trousers on the sheets, "No."

"Surprising," I grab my boots and gloves before kicking the box back under the bed, "Well, what's wrong?"

Respectfully, Jess glances away after I throw down my shorts, saying, "You're not worried about what's coming?"

"I think everyone's worried," I answer, pulling my pants on.

"So, you are worried?" Jess asks again.

Sighing, I pick up my garb and nod, "Yeah," I slip into the crow feathers, "It's plain to see we're not running away this time. It's victory or death, now."

Jess glances up at me as if to say something before lowering her head to stare at the floor again.

"Aren't you nervous, too?" I tighten my scaled gloves.

"No shit, 'course I'm not. I'm just..." Jess's irritation is flushed away by the fearful contortion of her face, "I'm scared, (Y/N)... for once, I don't wanna fight. I'm tired, y'know?" she forces her fearful expression into a neutral one, "What am I saying? I'm being a coward, aren't I?"

I sit down with her, "It's not a cowardly thing to wish for an end to our fight, Jess; it's the right thing."

"We're murderers, (Y/N). There's no end to our bloodshed," Jess insists before sighing, "Listen, I'm Jess the Killer, understand?"

I put my hand on her back, conscious of the reassurance of physical touch, "If you want to change... then all you have to do is try. Is that what you want?"