Another Infected Found (Tim/Masky X Reader X Alex Kralie)

Chapter Eighteen

(Wow, can't believe I've gotten this far!)

        He isn't answering. She called again. No answer. She groaned in frustration and felt the presence of Tim still yards behind her. "Tim, I swear if you stole my bro's phone- you're dead."

        He rolled his eyes, "I'm no thief!"

        "Then what was this," she waved her phone around, then pointed, "Doing in your car. Were ya just borrowing it or something!?"

        He was about to say something else, however, (Y/n) wouldn't let him. She stared at him then tilted her head back and sighed, "Forget it. I'm just going walk home. Besides, the snow just adds to beauty of the outside. Cold is a friend," she rambled a little further then started off. Kicking snow and gripping on her coat for dear life it seemed. She hated this. What was she really feeling though? She thought and found two words that described her feeling- Confused hatred. Ya, that's it.

        She was still confused. She had experience this younger, not as complicated and tiring, but she knows about it. She knows she should be taken those pills. They were a big help. She didn't have to deal with him and get rid of hallucinations and the Godforsaken static. Never can she put how horrible and tearing that static was. Sometimes she thought of it as the worst part. And she truly believed it was. Kept her awake at all hours, gave the feeling of being watched, and paranoia was just a small side effect compared to the mental damage.

        From her harsh memories, her (e/c) eyes darted at the woods. She felt a silence. Not even was static heard. A very, deadly silence.

        She walked from Rosswood Park with a paralyzed face, stuck in her mind, she couldn't dare to comprehend this feeling. It was a feeling of remorse, but not exactly. It was adding along with the feeling of a loved one passing. It was a tint of joy, but a bucket anger and sadness. It was that same feeling when she had attended her father's funeral.

        (Y/n) felt the bitter cold instantly hit her, forcing her to close her eyes, then she opened them and they she saw something. Her brother stood tall beside her, dressed in a black suit, as she noticed she was in a black dress and heels. Her brother was silently crying. She looked anxiously around. She was now at a gloom, unsettling cemetery. Familiar friends and distant family crowded the small patch of land around the already dirt-filled hole. She was at her father's funeral. Something was off.

        Uncontrollably, she started coughing. No one seem to hear. Her coughing grew into an attack. She felt these before when she was young, never did it get to the point where she felt like she was hacking up organs almost. However, she could not say the same now, it felt like she was just going to hack up her lungs. She gripped her chest's sides and kept on coughing uncontrollably. Her brother stayed crying. Reflexively, she threw her hand to catch onto her brother's pants to get his attention. Nothing, there was nothing there. He was instantly gone. Everyone else however was still there.

        "Ack! Oh God!" she lied on the ground coughing erratically. She cried for her brother, but no one came. Her coughing fit ended sourly as her mind was a haze and she felt a piercing cold everywhere. She opened her instantly tired eyes and breathed. Deep breaths. Deep breaths. When it seemed that she was in a right form to start adjusting to her surroundings she was lying in a pile of snow. Her throat burned and tasted like acid.

        "What.... The hell...," she mumbled incoherently then hissed as the words hurt to say. She lied in the snow pile and debated on even walking or staying. Why had she hallucinated? She hadn't done anything to trigger it. She never had hallucinated before. Her breathing was still at an oddly fast rate.

        Before anything was to happen again, she needed to get home. (Y/n) walked shortly then jogged, then started to run out of fear. And she still felt that confusing feeling like she had at her father's funeral.

        The air in the home was stale and cold, everything had a horrible, gloomy feeling. She stepped foot in the kitchen before gasping. Blood. There was blood on the floor, a piece of blue and black fabric, and glass shards everywhere. She cried out her brother's name, afraid. Her eyes never left the red-orange stains that were drying on the floor.

        Her eyes lingered towards the phone then frowned. She was not going to let police involved. She was going to end this all. End this madness. She felt obligated to end whoever was to give her a hell for reality.

        (Y/n) knew her dear brother was not dead. He can't be. He's strong and has a will to live! He will not die. "He can't die," her voice faltered. She cried her brother's name out again, hopeless.

(let's end this chapter with something I find depressing! Forgive for mistakes and hope ya enjoyed!)