The Fog ⇢ Dead by Daylight Oneshots

𝚘𝚕𝚍 𝚑𝚊𝚋𝚒𝚝𝚜

✩ Sally Smithson "The Nurse" ✘ Reader ✩

❝Hold fast to whatever fragments of love exist, for sometimes a mosaic is more beautiful than an unbroken pattern.❞

TRIGGER WARNING.

SUGGESTIVE THEMES OF DEPRESSION AND PAST SELF-HARM.

EDITED ON 4/19/2022

You had a rough past, considering the depressive episodes that drained you every day to the point where you never wanted to leave your room. The sun's rays were repulsive, and your intrusive thoughts tore you apart. Every day was a struggle, but things seemed to improve when you had someone to talk to. Someone to vent to. Someone to care for and encourage you. It was hard at first, yet Jake made it better. He tried his best to be there for you, and it seemed like he was the only person in the world that was there. The man became your best friend and, after time, your lover.

It finally seemed like things were looking up in your life, you still had episodes, but they felt more manageable. Jake made you feel wanted, or he did. Then, somewhere along the lines, he started to act differently. And you had tried everything to understand where it went wrong. But he slipped through your fingers like sand. You could hear the last thing he ever said ring through your mind constantly, "You're too much Y/N. I can't handle you anymore."

Slowly you started working yourself back into the rut you were initially in. Before Jake, you would go into the woods and cry while staring at the clouds, wondering if life was worth the trouble. But you don't want to sit on a rock and watch the cars go by on the forest's edge. Instead, you wanted to go deeper until no one could trace your footsteps. You wanted to disappear forever.

So, you went to the forest. Trees surrounded you as you went deeper and deeper into a nothingness filled with greenery. You didn't care that the daylight was turning dark. At some point, you found a run-down two-story building. You walked up to what you had guessed was the front entrance, and there was a dilapidated sign that readout 'Crotus Prenn Asylum.' You walked inside, making your way down a hallway until you came across some stairs. You debated going up to them but finally succumbed and walked up the creaking boards. You found an open hole leading to the lower level in the floor. You crouched down and hung your legs off the edge while gently swinging them.

Multiple shrill screams echoed, but you barely acknowledged the sound. You moved your hand backward to position yourself more comfortably, but as you did, you hit a piece of sharpened metal. Slowly you picked it up, turning it over in your hand as you fiddled with it methodically. You accidentally knicked your finger and dropped the scrap as you did so. It fell and sliced across your forearm, you weren't sure how deep the cut was, but the blood wouldn't stop. Your teeth gritted together as you realized what was done. You had been clean for so many months. Was this how it ended? You broke down in ugly sobs. This wasn't intentional. It was accidental, but who would believe you? This wasn't like before. The high was guilt and sadness and the desire to be accepted.

Blood dripped from the metal shard as laid next to you. Before a dirtied white-glove reached over you and picked it up. You turned around, seeing a mass of white floating from the ground. A gasp escaped your lips as you stared at an off-white sack that from it came calm breathing. The sack fell to its side quizzically. A bloodied and rusted bone saw swayed in her hand while the other glowed against the blood-ridden scrap. You almost fell down the hole you sat on out of fear, but you sat teetering on the edge as she had to drop the scrap to grip onto your shoulder.

She pulled you back up from the uncomfortable angle you were held at. And as you got stable, she stared at the wounds. You observed her as she ripped a piece of her dress sleeve off before gently wrapping it around your arm and a smaller portion for your finger. "I'm sorry for alarming you, darling, but I know that right there must hurt, and the least I can do is help you out. Considering I can remember a few things before, from when I took care of so many different people."

You turned your arm back and forth, glancing at your newfound bandages. The woman floated upwards and held her hand out to you. You grabbed it and pulled it gently as you rose to your feet. You looked down at your intertwined hands, "Thank you for helping me. I swear I didn't do it on purpose. It truly was an accident."

The woman shook her head while keeping a firm grip on your hand. "I never said they were? I'm sorry, I don't think I thought that of you. However, I believe what you say was true."

You huffed out a sigh, relieved of being called a liar. "You mentioned helping people. Were you a doctor?"

"I can't... I can't remember, sorry." She let go of your hand and floated away slightly. She rubbed her shoulder as she looked around where you stood.

You frowned, "No, no, it's okay. Do you have a name?"

She looked over at you and slowly floated closer, "Sally Smithson, I think? It's a bit fuzzy...."

"Well, if that is your name, it is beautiful. Mine's, Y/N L/N," You smiled as Sally cocked her head to the side.

She grabbed your hand again, minding the bandages, as she looked at old scars. Her hand was warm but slightly grimy. She made you feel safe. You haven't felt that feeling in a while. "Let's get you all cleaned up. Those clothes won't withstand for long."