SIX | Chosen

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Imagine: Being on the bus with the cheerleaders and Jerome notices you because you "stand out".

You, along with the rest of the peppy cheerleader, were riding the bus to the game. You didn't know why you decided to be a cheerleader, but you topped off the rest of the squad.

The bus screeched to a stop suddenly. The cheers stopped abruptly as a gasoline tank truck came into view. It stopped in front of the bus as three men with what looked like unrestrained straight jackets appeared and came out of the truck. A ginger-haired boy tapped on the sliding door of the bus with a gun, and girls started screaming. You, too, were scared but screaming wasn't going to get you out of this situation. The ginger shot the bus driver, and the girls around were got even more panicked, if they hadn't achieved maximum fear before. You came up with a bad idea. You slid out of the seat you were in and crawled down the aisle as fast as possible. Girls and guys around you looked down at you.

"What are you doing, Y/N?" Your friend whisper-shouted at you.

Someone else commented, "No Y/N you're going to get yourself killed!"

Despite your peers' opinions, you continued crawling as fast as your knees could take you. You opened the back door and some alarm buzzed through your ears. Using little strength, you pushed the door open and bolted, running as quickly as possible. Another man saw you and chased after you. Unfortunately for you, he was too quick and he pounced on you, causing you to topple over and fall to the ground.

"Oh, what a joy it would be to eat that tender (skin color) skin of yours," he whispered hoarsely into your ears.

"Greenwood!" The ginger called from the bus. "Refrain from eating the pretty little woman."

"Ugh! I haven't eaten anyone IN AGES!" He shouted, still over top of you. You repulsed by the horrid smell of man odor he was putting off.

"Bring her over here," the ginger signaled.

The man who you found out to be Greenwood harshly gripped his large calloused hand around your fore arm and pulled you up and toward the bus. There was no use struggling now - your escape plan failed.

"Git, Greenwood," he ordered.

Greenwood shoved passed you, looking at you with hungry eyes and a smirk.

"Ah, you must be the escapee," the ginger states with a laugh that could shake up even the bravest of souls.

The ginger tapped on your head playfully with his gun, causing your heart beat to increase and your breath to quicken. His facial expression changed from childish to serious in a matter of seconds.

"What's your name, gorgeous?" He said, in a low and intimidating voice.

You were hesitant on giving out your name to an absolute psychopath, so instead, you gave him the infamous "silent treatment."

You struggled to meet his eyes, knowing they held a darkness your mind could not learn to fathom.

"Come on! You can do better that that."

You were confused at his comment. Your face showed your bewilderment and the ginger noticed it.

"Wow, impressing. You are one tough cookie! Wanna know why?" He took his gun and touched it to right about where your heart lay, beating faster than it ever has.

You gulped, inaudible, unsure how to respond.

"Relax!" He laughed, the sound of it erupted through the entire bus. "You're tough–", he playfully punched your arm, "-because you have the courage to deny responding to someone like me aiming a gun at your heart. But how about we boost our ratings."

Jerome Valeska ImaginesWhere stories live. Discover now