Bloody Knuckles || Vance Hopper X Reader

How It Started

People always said that if you were part of the high class, that you should consider lucky. I did consider mere luck, but there always is a catch.

My family always loved to travel, and I couldn't deny it, because I did so too. But the studies stopped me completely from traveling.

I was always busy doing school work, homework, and finding time for clubs.

My parents would always travel and leave me behind, sometimes with a short amount of supplies.

We did have a maid, but she was only ever there when my parents were there. When they were out, she was out.

I started out by taking my anger out on kids who always pissed me off, much like Vance, but then I realized that it was starting to become a problem, so I did the next best thing I could do.

Take out my anger on kids that think it's funny to beat the weak ones.

I always stuck with the kids that people would call 'freaks.'

It wasn't because I pitied them, but more because they are actually very interesting, some more than others, some better than others.

I didn't befriend every single one of them, for I knew some of them deserved it.

But I did my best to make them feel no less human. Sure, I didn't know what it felt like for people to see you as a freak, but I knew what it felt like not being good enough, whether it was to others or yourself.

I would always go to bed just to stay up thinking about my future. I cared a lot about my grades and reputation, but I knew getting into trouble would cause it to fall. Maybe that's what my parents were thinking when they decided to move.

They cared about their reputation. Not mine, but theirs.

I didn't know anyone in the new town for about a week, but everyone knew me on the first day.

I saw a girl bullying a small, defenseless guy.

I couldn't take it, so I stepped in. I always loved the idea of girls supporting girls, or guys supporting each other.

But I knew when this 'supporting' had to come to a stop.

The girl, who I later found out was named Eliza, was sent to the ER with a broken leg and bloody nose.

The week went by, and no one dared approach me, that was until I bumped into a tall, pale, short haired girl. She apologized, but later asked me if she knew me from somewhere.

She was the first girl to speak to me, so I didn't mention anything about the fights I had gotten in during my time here.

We quickly became friends, and presented me to a short, Hispanic girl, Gaby.

I later met the others in our friend group due to classes we had together.

I was happy and glad, but they later found out how troublesome I was and confronted me. I explained everything to them, from beginning to end, and I was shocked when they understood.

Gabby and I became best friends quickly, always together whenever we could, never leaving each other's side.

Then Vance came into the picture.

At first we didn't like each other at all and had to serve detention together all the time due to how many fights we got with each other.

I wasn't completely scared of him, I was simply scared of what he was capable of doing.

He didn't hesitate to carve his own name on his victim's body, how would he hesitate to kill?

He was pretty unpredictable, and I tried to predict his next move. But I couldn't, it wasn't near my ability to.

The first time that we got in a fight was when he had lost a round of pinball and tried to blame it on me.

I was in a bad mood already, and the not-so-innocent blaming quickly escalated to a heated fist fight.

I remember it so vividly, to how we had to be separated by his friends to how perplexed he was when he realized I could fight just as well as him.

With a turn of time, we both came to realize how alright we were with each other back in September of 1977, two years back from now.

He was tormenting a kid once again, but I felt off so I quickly called out for him, in which he wasn't so happy about, but I told him it was important.

It really wasn't, I just came up with the excuse of needing help carrying really heavy equipment from volleyball.

I actually needed help with it, for I couldn't carry all of it by myself, and hardly could he, but we both managed.

He went home later than usual, especially since I insisted on walking him home due to how late it was.

I remember how his nose scrunched up when he told me "Get fucking lost, will you?"

He refused to escort him home, but I eventually followed him and told him I wouldn't go home without making sure he was safe first.

Everything just felt off, and if there was one thing that I knew I had to listen to, it was my gut.

Once he got inside his house I looked around me, and there I saw the same ban I'm now so afraid of.

Later throughout time, I was taken from the people I knew.

I knew it was work of The Grabber, but it was due to how this man dressed that I couldn't point fingers to the man driving the ban.

I had gotten into a fight, and was severely hurt, so I had passed out due to bleeding out.

He must've found me and quickly took me, locking me in his basement.

Everything was a blur, all I remember was him wearing some kind of mask, a phone and managing to escape.

I always carried a bobby pin with me, so I had managed to unlock the door and let myself out.

He was probably drunk from hours prior, so I found him unconscious due to the alcohol inside his system.

I realized then that the door was locked, so I went up the stairs, inside a room and out a window.

Only an idiot would keep a window open when having someone abducted.

I didn't tell anyone about it, it was the 70's, there was no way people would believe it.

A girl, getting kidnapped by the infamous Grabber, someone who until recently has just kidnapped little boys.

I remember getting questioned by Boston where I was, but I simply shrugged it off by saying I was staying with my aunt.

My family didn't notice, they weren't even in the state. They were away in Italy for a business trip.

The only thing that I can remember clearly was seeing someone grab me from under my arms, dragging me home and asking a few questions. Questions I sadly couldn't respond to due to the shock.

I couldn't see a face, but I was thankful to that person, if only they knew what kind of hell I went through with the disgusting human being of The Grabber.