Under Control (Ticci Toby X Reader)

Chapter Twenty-Six

"I'm still in this messed up cycle and I better be winning," I repeated, but more lowly and gradually.

        I stared unfazed by my bloody hand, trying not to fear the glass shard that was planted on the top of my shaky hand. Why had I just punched that? Why did my mom disown me? Why did everyone all of a suddenly abandon me?

        I had a thought that I could go back to Toby, perhaps to get away from this? "That'll just get me killed," I spoke out loud. There's no one here, I will speak as much as I want.

        Sighing, I looked at the wall where during the phone call I had looked at. It hung by a now loose nail and it's frame and glass busted. It was a picture of me, smaller, younger, happier with a serene look and feeling. I was being held my mom. That was before she was leaving to the other country where she would soon have the affair that destroyed her marriage.

        Why did I have to be her daughter? Why was I born to such a selfish and inconsiderate being?

        "This does nothing!" I yelled, wanting to punch the shards left clinging on the frame. "Why!? Why!? Why does this happen to me!? I just want peace. I want life. I want something. Something but this," my voice faltered to rasp. I felt like crying, but I forced myself to suck it up. It was clear that I needed something. Something to soothe the heartache and nerves.

        "Where's the booze?" I spoke out loud, not awaiting an answer, for there would be none.

        However, I had anticipated wrongly.

        "You ain't gettin' n-no booze," The voice cracked and I looked up at the ceiling where the attic was. How had I not think he was not here. Of all places, I thought he wasn't just going to pop up here. It also was no surprise that he had heard me. Through a whisper, just loud enough, you could hear it from the attic. Thin floors and listening ears is why.

        I sighed, he must of heard, possibly seen what happened. I'm a fool clearly. Either my questioning to come here was influenced by my latest drink or I thought of something very stupidly. Prolly both.

        "How long you been here, Time-Bomb?" I asked, my voice clearly agitated but still a bit dry and almost rasp-like.

        "Since morning."

        I glanced at the clock that hung on the wall, "Good Lord, you've been here for hours then."

        "Yeah, just waiting for ya," he replied, walking down the narrow staircase from the attic. He's been here for hours and he must've heard my phone call, so I hope he realizes what happened unless he's just so oblivious and thought  nothing of it. Once I saw him. He looked a bit different from when I saw him the day before. When I say different, I mean he looked more stressed, more lifeless. He already looked lifeless, but this gave off an eerie feeling. Nonhuman like.

        I'm never scared of much, but right now, he frightened me. 

        "Toby, why don't you just go?" I sighed, not staring at him directly in his dark eyes. They seemed darker from what I remember. 

        "A simple ask for me t-to go, I'm not e-easy. Never will I be easy."

        "Ain't that the truth," I slyly remarked, but he made no reaction to it and simply brushed it off. 

        I glanced at the clock, a few hours it'll be the evening. Almost night. This whole day seemed like forever and it felt like it would an eternity before I would just sleep away this night.

        "(Y/n), we made a deal. Y-you help me. You're under my control. I c-can kill you without any hesitation."

        "Then why are you hesitating?"

        He stared at me, "I'm not hesitating!" He barked in a threating manner. But the way he acted, even with his spoken intentions to just murder me on the spot. It all said from body language that he seemed to notd want to kill me. The most insane, psychopathic mother fucker I know, doesn't want to kill me. Am I supposed to take that as a compliment? Or I was overthinking things and he already dug my grave.

        "You have a choice, death or follow me?" So, should I be killed or should I follow along a serial killer?

        "So either I die or I live?"

        He nodded.

        I sighed, shook my head, "Agh- you already know my answer." He smirked slightly in response.

        "Just get what you what you need, d-don't bring any electronics," he told me, seemingly enjoying his victory of overpowering my choice. Hey, at least he wasn't as scary as when I first saw him a few minutes ago. I saw life on his face.

        As I did, I got what I hadn't lost and thought I'd need, which simply was just a blanket, few extra pairs of clothes and small extra things. All of it was scrunched into a large backpack that was worn from two years of high school. I had this before the fire. It was in a locker at school at the time during the fire. I then stared at my now-bandaged hand and grimaced at the look and the remembrance of shards in my hand.

        "So, is this just going to be it? That I'm just going to follow along where ever you go and expect that with everything you do, nothing will trace back to us? I mean, you committed genocide. I only met you around a month now, and I know you had killed many in such short time. I don't know how many overall and quite frankly: I do not want to know," I spoke zipping up the backpack again and flipping it on my shoulder. Toby stood by the door frame, his shoulder leaning against it as he seemed to study me.

        I knew that I wouldn't have much freedom after getting away from him. What was I to do? As I stood and stared at him as he did the same, I then forced a chuckle, "Funny thing is, I got nothing to live for and your threats aren't working well and lookie here! I'm on my way to tag along with you and your murderous and mind-game ways!" He didn't say anything. He was back to that silent, scary demeanor that I was really hating at the time. He always said he could kill me and sometimes even tried enough to threaten me, but it didn't work as much as the demeanor that felt cold and dark.

        Finally, he spoke, "We'll s-stay the night at a house I found I-in the woods." I sent a questioning look to him. "It's abandoned. I found it before we left to be in hiding." He twitched his neck slightly.

        I sighed, I was stuck with him again. "You to be in hiding," I corrected, my eyes were already heavy with tiredness. "So, I'm just going to abandon my home and everything and stick by you?"

        "Thought w-we already agreed on this," he stuttered, wiping the lens of his goggles with his hoodie. I watched him with a bad taste in my mouth. I had already despised him and when I finally got away, realizing how he can kill me and I got nothing. I was only staying with him to save my friends and family. But my family is gone. My friends are gone or straying away. I bit my lip. I hate the prick, yet, I'm right here on another travel for his genocide. 

        "Oh, yeah, we should a-also hurry up," He stammered.

        "Why?"

        "Someone may have saw me...  Well, with lots of blood, even though that was hours ago. Still."

        "But, Toby, you don't even look like there's anything on you?"

        "Ya, you were gone for a long time so I-I caught up on cleaning my stuff."

        I stared at him, then asked, "What's your secret to cleaning blood out everything? I really want to know this? Don't ask why, but I want to know."