Little Game - a Ticci Toby x Reader story

Chapter 23

With every step I take, it feels like my feet are getting heavier. My breathing is rapid and uneven and my legs are trembling as I walk. With every step I take, I feel the fear and panic inside of me getting stronger. With every step, we're coming closer to the mission target that has to die. I don't know why I didn't faint yet.

Masky is busy checking the houses as we walk past them. "...Darkstone Rd, numer six," he mumbles. "So... eight, seven, six -here it is." He turns around and looks at me. "Tonight is the night Vincent Baker will stop breathing. And you will be the reason why. Isn't that awesome?"

If I just scream as hard as I can, will they come and save me? If I pretend to pass out, what will they do? Is there a way to escape from this? I don't want to do this. I can't kill somebody. I can't I can't I can't.

My knees finally give in. If it wasn't for Hoodie holding my wrists, I would've fallen to the cold asphalt. I look up at Masky, tears forming in my eyes. "Please don't make me do this," I plea for one last time. But I know it's useless.

I can't see Masky's expression because of his mask, but I can imagine a twisted grin plastered on his face. He's enjoying this, to the last bit. After a few seconds, he turns around towards the house, ignoring my pleads.

"So..." Masky mutters. Hoodie seems to know what he means, since he replies immediately. "42 years old, lives alone. No further information."

"Why does he have to die?" I squeak out as Masky walks into the messy frontyard of the small house, towards the front door. Hoodie grumbles in respone. "Only The Slenderman knows, he doesn't tell us, we just do the dirty work," he replies before pulling me towards the house as well. "And now shut up."

I bite my lip in an attempt to calm down. What if I just convince myself that killing isn't that bad? Maybe I should. Maybe if I tell myself that there isn't a difference between killing a fly and a human -if I just tell myself that, it won't be that bad...

"This lock is so easy," Masky scoffs as he inspects the front door. "We'll be inside in no-time." He grabs something from his pocket and then he bends forward, probably to pick the lock. It only costs him a few minutes to open the door.

I take a step forward before Hoodie can even tell me to do so. There's no way that I can escape from this situation. The best thing I can do is pretending that it doesn't bother me. Just a fly.

The wooden floor of the hallway creaks under our footsteps and instinctively, I proceed down the hallway more careful. What am I doing? Maybe if I make enough noise, that man has a chance to escape. But I think I'll end up being murderen instead, then. And somehow, I don't want to die anymore.

Masky is already climbing the stairs to the first floor. He gestures us to follow him and this time, Hoodie has to pull the ropes  firmly before I follow them again. In contrary to the wooden floor, the stairs is rather silent. Good for us, bad news for that Vincent guy.

As we're all upstairs, Masky points towards a door at the other end of the hallway. Then he puts his index finger to the mouth hole on his mask. With slow movements, he pulls the door handle down and the door creaks open. Masky waits a few seconds, probably to check if their victim is still asleep. After a moment, he enters the room and gestures us to follow him.

The moment I enter the room, the feeling of fear comes over me like a tsunami. My heart is thumping loudly and there's a lump in my throat. My breathing is shallow. I stare at the sleeping figire in the small bed in the corner of the room, who has no idea what's going to happen to him. What I'm about to do to him.

Hoodie grabs something from his pocket and he starts tugging on the ropes that tie my hands behind my back. After a few seconds, the rope falls to the ground and I absentmindely run the now sore skin of my wrists, while still staring at the sleeping male.

Then Masky taps my shoulder, a gun in his outstretched hand. "You know what to do," he whispers. I can hear the sadistic grin in his voice. The jerk is enjoying this a bit too much.

I try to gulp to swallow the fear, and firmly snatch the gun fom Masky's hand. The cold metal touches my warm hand. I plave my and on the trigger and point the gun at the man's head. It's not like I've never held a gun before. My dad has a gun. I used to take it and think of cool scenario's in my imagination. But I've never used it.

Until now.

It's just the same thing as killing a fly or mosquito. There's no difference at all. I try to ignore the almost numbing fear and take a deep breath, trying to calm down to stop my hands from shaking. I have to give them something unexpected. Not something they want to see. C'mon [Name], it's just a fly.

And then I pull the trigger.

There's a loud bang and I stumble backwards because of the unexpected recoil. The man jolts awake and there's a bullet hole in the wall, close to where is head had been. Fuck. I missed.

Before the man can run or attack, I pull the trigger again. Missed, again. I take a step closer. Bang. Another step. Bang. Shoulder. The man screams in pain and grabs his shoulder. I take another step. I'm so close that I can touch him if I want. Bang. His chest. He falls back onto his bed but he's still moving, breathing. What has come over me? I'm scared of myself right now. I press the barrel of the gun against his temple, ignoring the terrified look he gives me, and shoot. Bang. The man collapses in a small fountain of blood spatters. I can feel the hot liquid on my face, arms... I quickly take a step back, panting heavily.

I clench the gun in my hands and turn around, away from the dead body. The realization of what I just did spins through my head. I'm not feeling well. Or rather, I feel sick.

"Mission cleared," Hoodie states.

I'm doing my best not to faint right now. I'm having a hard time to keep myself from throwing up. But somehow, I manage to. Maybe it's my pride that keeps me from breaking down after what I just did. Or maybe it's because I don't want to show them the weakness they're making me feel. I'm sure they wanted to give me a trauma, and expected me to be cyring, panicking, vomiting. But I'm not.  I'm just standing here, covered in blood. Trying to keep my cool.

"Let's go back to the mansion," Masky says after a while. He has been staring at me a few minutes. He grabs the gun from my hands and leaves the bedroom. Hoodie follows him. They're not even bothering to tie me up this time. It doesn't matter, they know I have no place to ho. So I just follow them on auto pilot. Not even looking back to the man that died by my hand.

A/N - I suck at writing stuff like this lol. Buttt this chapter is even longer than the previous one. Such wow.