We meet again~ (Alastor x Fem!reader)

Betrayed

-Y/N POV-

As you slowly reached towards the mask of the unconscious figure, you could hear your heart beating a million miles a second. You steeled yourself and quickly pulled off the mask, shining your phone's flashlight at the person's face. Your eyes widened as you gasped. No... It couldn't be... it was Alastor?! Your blood ran cold as you quickly stood up ad put away your flashlight. Vox was right... how could he be right?! How could Alastor do such a thing?! You'd suspected him at first but that suspicion had faded away after Alastor had proved himself to be nothing but trustworthy. You stumbled back and ran. Ran as fast as your legs would go, all the way back to your house. You were terrified and traumatized and... oh god you had kissed him! You had kissed a serial killer! And one that seemed to be cannibalistic at that! You felt nauseated and betrayed. And all the time you had spent with Alastor.. It was a miracle he hadn't killed you in cold blood. You fumbled with your keys and unlocked your apartment, quickly walking and collapsing on the couch. You felt weak and scared as your racing heart began to calm down. You still loved him... you thought... but how could you love a killer?

-Alastor POV-

I wake up on the floor of the alley, my head pounding. I slowly sit up and rub my head. What had happened...? I remember I was dissecting the body of a man I had found abusing a little girl, and then... nothing. I looked around and spotted a foreign baseball bat, laying there on the floor. It hit me (No pun intended-). Someone had knocked me out. I quickly feel my face. My mask is gone! I spot it a few feet away in a drying puddle of blood and quickly pick it up. I was in danger... somebody had seen me, and taken off my mask. All they'd have to do was take a picture and call the police. Im covered in blood that isn't my own so it'd be that simple to get me arrested and most likely placed on death row. My heartbeat quickens as I get to my feet. There was no way of knowing who had caught me. And what about Y/N? If I get shipped off to jail she'll know... and I don't want her to know. She can't know... she wouldn't love me anymore. I look at the baseball bat and carefully pick it up by the batting side. Maybe I could test for DNA and track down the person who knows who I am. I am NOT going to jail.