𝐈𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐦𝐞𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐲 | Levi Ackerman X Reader

| #38: Don't drag her to the team dinner |

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It was a dark, unsettling, room filled with every possible disguise available. There were wigs, masks, stage makeup, costume supplies. Just across the city, the very man that is after you was in his hideout. A very dilapidated and worn down hideout.

The lights in the room were nearly entirely dimmed down and the only thing that was bringing any sort of light to the room were the lights of the resident of this hideout's vanity. But it wasn't just any person that was staying here. It was the very man that was out for blood to kill you.

Since the acid attack he attempted on you, he'd spent days holed up, planning his next move, driving himself insane knowing that the stakes are higher since you hired a bodyguard and it would be harder to kill you with no one witnessing it like he hoped and he could cover his tracks.

It had become that much harder to find an opportunity for you to be alone now. And ever since the memorial, to which he had been disguised in as a security guard, he'd managed to get even more pictures of you to plaster on his wall.

That's right. Ever since he got this assignment, he formed some sort of obsession with you and everything you did. He had photographs of you from articles that he's taken himself over time and with harsh red 'x's' on them.

It was plastered all over his walls, with any information that could serve useful to him and since the memorial, that collection of pictures had only grown.

He'd been in a daze for days, staring at the ceiling, thoughts circling endlessly. Now, he lounged on his battered couch, hearing the song that was playing in the background. A record spun on the turntable, the same song looping endlessly for days now.

The song was a stark contrast to his violent intentions towards you, a haunting reminder of how his insanity was slowly starting to take over and that he no longer tried to fight it.

It was a slow jazz song, clearly from an era long past, yet he had somehow found an unshakable affinity for the soft tunes. He couldn't listen to anything but that. As it continued to play, he reached over for his phone on the table, an old flip phone. His trusted burner phone for these kinds of things.

He flipped it open, snapped it shut, again and again. It was as if it was the only thing that was keeping him somewhat tethered to reality and his goals.

His mind had been unraveling for years, but at some point, he stopped fighting it altogether. Now, he welcomed the madness inside him, letting it consume every part of him. The person he used to be isn't there anymore.

He had been looking up at that flip phone for a couple minutes before he set back down on the coffee table. He's been waiting for the call, or the call of the very person that was calling all the shots.

So, when he finally set his phone down and closed his eyes as he focused on the music for a couple more seconds, that brief 'peace' was disrupted when he heard his phone chime. His eyes snapped open and quickly reached over to grab it again.

When he had it in his grasp, he sat up on the edge of the couch and flipped open his phone to see that it was indeed from the person he was hoping to hear from.

When he clicked on the message and saw it splayed on his small screen, a sadistic and malicious smile crawled onto his face. 'Release the hunting dog', the text said, with the anonymous contact name on top. It was time to take this plan to the next phase, despite his past failed attempts.

With a huff, he stood up from the couch and began to walk over to his vanity with all of his makeup and masks, and when he sat down, he looked at himself in the mirror. He saw a person he didn't recognize anymore, but at this point, he was more than okay with that and he was more than ready.