Songbird in a Snowstorm [Yandere! Marble Hornets x Reader]

Can't Stop Moving

You did your best to ignore the crackle of frost beneath your feet as you drew ever closer to the lookout. That's all you had done for the past three hours. Grudgingly force one foot in front of the other, never letting your eyes stray from the rickety tower in the distance. It's all you really could do at this point. Walk and slip and try to ignore the constant chafing from your rucksack and the beads of sweat that slowly dribbled down your spine.

There was an ache that started in your feet and made its way up your legs to your core. It brought you back to your first couple of days in this park. The ones you spent backpacking up tortuously steep trails and figuring out how a compass worked on the fly. Letting out a heavy sigh, you let your eyes fall to the field ahead of you.

The frost was slowly but surely being burned away by the creeping sunlight. Even now, the frigid air made it easy to see your breath coming out in misty clouds. How early the temperatures dropped was alarming to begin with, but you had bigger problems to deal with. A knot starts to form at the back of your throat, one you quickly swallow and attempt to dismiss.

No matter how much you tried to ignore it, your head was still reeling from whatever the hell happened last night. It felt so real. With the mattress you had found mere hours earlier, there was no way that it was just a dream. Your train of thought is shattered when something in the pit of your stomach twists and lurches painfully.

Casting your gaze to the forest lining either side of the open field, your eyes scan the tree line. Not a single twig looked to be out of place. The birds still sang, and there were deer wandering through the meadow you spent so long trekking across. Mentally cursing yourself, you refocus your thoughts on the trail ahead and try to pick up the pace.

You didn't know why you kept looking behind you. Well, you knew why, but it still didn't entirely make sense. Yes, there was a chance someone was following you. However, you never felt watched, not after last night. The forest felt as empty and lonely as it did the day you arrived. Some part of you wondered if whoever was fucking with you at the moment was aware of your presence then, too.

Surely there should have been some sort of sign, an icky feeling in your core, something, anything that you could have picked up on. Something that could have prevented this. An itchy sort of heat flows through your veins, building up and becoming more and more unbearable. In your irritation, you turn your frustrations on an unfortunate pinecone that was innocently sitting a few feet ahead of you. With one swift kick you sent it flying. Moments later you are rewarded with a satisfying crash somewhere within the tree line.

It takes you a few seconds longer than it should have to realize that you were now standing at the foot of an exceedingly steep hill. Something dies inside of you as you gaze up at just how far you're going to have to climb, scramble and claw your way up. You blinked once, then twice as if you couldn't believe what you were seeing. None of this was ever supposed to happen. You were only ever supposed to sit on your ass for months at a time and stare at trees. That's what you signed up for. That's what you could do. All this climbing bullshit? No.

Every muscle in your body screams as you start your newest journey. Any aches that you might have convinced yourself to forget make themselves known once again. The promise of a nice, comfy helicopter to carry you out of this place almost made the pain bearable. Almost.

Your fingers dig into loose soil that tumbles away as soon as you put any amount of weight into it. It's either that or you end up wrapping your hand around stones so cold they feel like they might actually be burning. When you are about halfway up the god forsaken hill the wind picks up. It cuts straight through the jacket you brought and whips mercilessly through your hair.

Just when you thought it couldn't possibly get any worse, the world decides to grace you with the presence of snow. The irritating white flecks drift into your vision and flitz and flutter downwards. They are thrown about by the wind, some ending up in your eyes and others melting mere moments before touching the ground. Almost unconsciously your hands ball up into fists. You don't notice until you're almost tumbling back down the hill with the rest of the dirt and stones.