Sober (Ticci Toby x reader)

Forgetting

The next morning the boy woke up from a splitting headache. He forced his eyes open and sat up quickly and gripped his head still, He felt like someone was pounding a hammer through his skull and wouldn't stop. He groaned in pain and grind his teeth together in aggravation. His eyes were shut tight as he pulled at his hair, Toby. Toby. Toby. Different voices spoke to him, Was that his name? He couldn't remember.

He opened his eyes and watched the black dots that invaded his vision disappear along with his headache. He sighed deeply then looked around, he was still in the woods and he couldn't remember anything from yesterday. He looked to his side and found a hatchet, he slowly reached out to pick up the weapon but once he made contact with it he remembered something.. a tall blurry figure with no face stood in front of him as orange crackling flames surrounded them both, ready to devour them in its scorching heat.

The boy quickly jerked his hand back and the horrid flashback ended. Who was that? Where was that? Who am I? The boy ran his bandaged fingers through his greasy hair before trying to grab the hatchet again, he reached out and gripped the handle of the hatchet and nothing happened. The brunette raised a sharp brow before shrugging it off and walking in a random direction hoping to go back home.. Wherever home was.

-He stopped at the edge of a black cemented road. He looked up at the sky, it was baby blue with no clouds. He blinked his eyes rapidly, trying to get used to the brightness outside and looked back and forth at the long empty road. He sighed and started walking in a direction he felt would lead him somewhere.

-He continued walking until he stopped at a gas station. He walked inside making the bell at the top of the glass door ring signaling that a customer was present. He noticed a man at the register reading a newspaper that covered his face.

The teen looked around until he found the men's bathroom and walked in, it was empty. He placed his hatchet at the edge of one of the white sinks and started unbandaging his hands revealing his bloody fingers that had newly grown skin on them. He suddenly remembered how he used to peel off parts of his flesh off of his fingers. He shivered at the flashback and immediately started washing his hands and threw the dirty bandages into the black trash can.

He started washing his face with some cheap soap and rinsed his face off with cold water, his tensed body quickly relaxed at the feeling. Next, he grabbed some brown napkins and dried his face off and then started cleaning the hatchet he brought with him.

Suddenly, in the middle of cleaning his hatchet, the bathroom door opened. His head raised and he looked into the mirror, a man was now in the bathroom with him and was walking towards the urinal. The brunette gulped and awkwardly continued to clean the hatchet. "What are you doin' there, boy?" The man asked in a deep southern accent. The teen froze in place, "U-Um.. Washing up." He stuttered making his body twitch. "Hm." The man hummed and zipped up his pants and walked by the non-occupied sink next to him, "That's a nice tool you got there." The guy said as he washed his hands. The boy wished he would stop talking and leave him alone so he stayed quiet. What was this guy's deal? "You're quite dashing." The man complimented. The boy went stiff again and was too nervous to reply so he didn't say anything, "Hey, look at me when I'm talking, boy." The man commanded.

The brunette hesitated but slowly looked at the man. The man was probably in his late forties and had grey hair, a red face, and dark eyes. He wore a name tag that said, Jameson. "I said that you were dashing." Jameson repeated himself with a smile that showed his glossy yellow teeth. "Thanks." The boy quickly said. Jameson chuckled and wiped his wet soapy hands on his khaki pants and walked over to the young man. He wrapped his hands around the boy's shoulders and took a whiff of the boy's hair. "You smell good." The creepy man smiled and reached for the boy's belt. That's when the boy snapped, "D-Don't touch me!" He yelled and pushed Jameson off of him. Jameson looked at the floor before looking up at him and smirked sinisterly, "Awe, someone is being naughty." He cooed and gripped the boy's arm again. The brunette's eyes dilated and out of instinct he grabbed his hatchet tightly, "I said, Don't touch me!" He yelled and swung the weapon at the man's arm making his arm loosely hang from his body.

Blood from the man sprayed the entire white bathroom and splattered all over the boy. The boy's mouth fell open in shock by his actions and he took a step back as the man's arm hung from a small string of skin. "YOU SON OF A BITCH!" The man screamed in agony and continued to scream as he dropped to the bathroom floor and started to lose blood quickly. The teen watched as the old man's eyes went dead and his body became limp. He started breathing heavily and looked back at the sink mirror, he was covered in blood again. Emotional less, the young boy twitched at his reflection and instead of trying to clean himself off again he decided to just leave.

He left the bathroom and looked around at the gas station that was still stocked with plenty of junk food and cold drinks. The brunette quickly went behind the counter and grabbed a few plastic grocery bags and started filling them up with different kinds of chips, candy, and canned drinks. He walked out of the gas station and continued his journey. He understood who he was now.

He was a murderer.