Bloodied Bunny || Ghost x Konig x Reader (she/her)

28

I'm pretty sure everyone's here now.

Annoyingly, my nerves are getting the better of me at the moment but at least I've managed to avoid cutting myself on this stupid knife in my desk... So far.

Rowan and Miss Erwood – along with several other people I don't know – have entered the room too. And Scar... Unfortunately.

I can feel the general's smirk from the other side of the room, just as I can feel the tension spike as he moves to the centre. Everyone's on edge now that he's here.

"Well then." Here comes the vague instructions, I wish I could groan aloud to annoy Scar. "As you should be able to tell, this isn't just any exam. I thought it'd be a fun little addition to add the weapons and yes, they are real," he gloats and my irritation grows to the point of breaking. "You have half an hour to figure out which papers are important... And which aren't," he finally gets to the point. "Oh- and, try not to leave any traces."

Just as I expected: vague.

Hesitating for a brief moment, I analyse the knife in my desk. There's about two inches of it above the desk and whoever put it there was definitely right-handed as it's tilted slightly to the right.

I release a sigh and pull it out slowly, feeling the wood grate against the notches towards the end of the blade. After all, I'm not getting to the papers with it there. My anxiety creeps up my throat as a small screech leaves the table in the quiet room, but I manage to get the knife out and place it to the side.

Thankfully, I managed to get it out without ripping any of the paper and now – thanks to the slits from the blade – I have some nice guides for arranging the sheets back in place. It feels like I'll need to.

That's one thing down.

Shifting through the papers, I scan across the contents; it's hard not to rush with so little time. A map, a base layout... A scoff leaves my lips as I come across a menu but quickly put it in the pile of pages I've gone through. I don't want to mess up the order.

Finally, I find an exam page. Unfortunately for me, the questions feel rather specific. Cautiously, I flip through the other pages – finding any information I can to help answer the questions – but I feel my heartbeat rising.

I start scribbling answers down quickly, hoping that my answers are legible but, I have no clue how long it's been.

It's undoubtedly been longer than I would've liked. Especially since we only have half a fucking hour.

A bullet flies free through the room without warning, sending a loud bang to echo around the walls as everyone flinches towards the sound's origin. My heart jumps out of my chest and my hands instantly come to cover my ears at the volume of the shot.

"Fail," Scar clips, irritated.

At least no one was injured but shit that scared me.

With adrenaline rushing through me, I scribble my last answer on the page and start mentally preparing myself to put the desk back. Hopefully, I remember enough to get it looking close to how it was before but, answering those questions distracted me.

Double-checking that the papers are in the correct order, I slip each one onto the blade of the knife that was resting to the side. It's terrifying, to be honest. But, I guess that just means this test is accurate-ish.

Moving to my next task, I gently run the knife back into the groove in the table, cringing as the blade scrapes against the wood. I make sure to angle it as accurately as I can, as well as keeping the two inches above the desk and then I'm done. Quietly, I shift back on my chair to observe the setup and once I'm satisfied that it looks right, I raise my hand.

"Yes, Y/N?" It's Rowan's voice that answers this time, also irritated.

"Uhm," my voice squeaks embarrassingly quiet, but carries through the silent room. "Am I allowed to leave?"

"Are you finished?"

"Yes." I don't sound confident at all.

"Sure," Scar answers.

Biting my lip, I stand from my chair and rush my ass out of that deathly quiet hell space. Each step feels like a taunt, each set of eyes that land on me like lasers and each breath feels suffocating. But I make it out in one piece.

And I'm alone.

I release a heavy breath of relief, feeling the tension wash away to make room for calm. Since what feels like forever, I don't have Ghost or König escorting me around like some fragile princess and oh my god it feels freeing. Don't get me wrong, having them around is always nice – having König around, at least – but fuck. I honestly don't know what to do...

I think I'll take a run.

***

"And where were you?" Ghost interrogates me as soon as I open the goddamn door.

My body freezes as I watch Ghost close the distance between us with an aura of anything but friendliness shrouding him. I can feel my breath tighten as the cages crawl around me again, trapping me once more under his burning gaze.

Once he gets too close, I step back.

"Well?" It's a cold, annoyed prompt. Like something I'd hear from Scar or Rowan after I broke the rules.

He's being harsh again.

"Out," I clip at Ghost, knowing one-word answers annoy him.

I watch his eyes glaze over – cold and harsh – and the next thing I know I'm slamming the door in his face.

Honestly, I don't know what on earth I'm doing. But as I head over to where my original dorm is supposed to be, I feel my chest tightening – for once, not in fear.

That is, until it actually is in fear. Risking a glance back, I notice Ghost isn't following me; that's unnerving on another level. He's never distanced himself from me this much. But I guess I deserve it, I pushed him away too.

Entering my room, I'm greeted by my things – the stuff I hadn't bothered to move to Ghost and König's dorm yet – spread out across the floor. I'm suddenly reminded of the lovely fact that someone broke into my room last night and fuck. Couldn't they have been a little more secretive or something? I groan as I lean over to pick up my stuff.

Not only did they rummage through my clothes, though I don't have a clue why, but they basically ripped all of my books apart. Quite literally. Thankfully, there was nothing personal in those books; I'm also not missing any clothes. The thought of them using my clothing for something sets disturbingly in the back of my head and I double-check everything again.

"Fucking arses," I mutter to myself, staring at my no longer cluttered floor.

I'm sweaty again. Squirming at the feeling of my shirt clinging to my stomach, I decide it's finally time for me to shower. Hopefully, I can get the disturbing thoughts out of my head along with the grime.

A/N: Next update: 22th of Jan (2024), 12:00 AM GMT+10