Let Me In || Ticci Toby x Reader

9 || Strike

I lie on my back, staring up at the ceiling. It has been three days since the incident. And not once have I left. The others, especially Toby, grow worried. I do not wish for their concern. They are the reason I am in this mess.

I have decided to stop everything. Call it giving up, or just accepting my own fate, I don't really care anymore. There is no point in returning to society where tainted freedom lies. And I will not let myself merge with this household. There is only one option left. The only one where I can keep some sort of dignity.

It's been three days since the incident. And three days since I last ate.

My stomach is killing me. Its contractions and convulsions are earthquakes that shake my body to its very core. How long does it take until the body starts to eat itself? How long until I am free of this hellhole? The pain hurts. It is the only thing that occupies my mind. I no longer think of my petty actions. Just the nourishment that my body craves against my own mind.

A hunger strike has solved many things in the past. Ghandi went on hunger strikes, and so did Alice Paul. They achieved their goals in the end. The same will hold for me. Hunger will eventually consume me, and quite literally. I will not have to kill anymore and I do not have to live with any guilt. Not only that, I lash back at the people who brought me here and tore my life from me. They want me here or else I would be dead. That much I understand. A hunger strike is the ultimate protest. I may not go down as a martyr, but I sure will get a message across at the very least and save myself from torture.

The sun beams through my window. Day four, going strong. I expect someone will come by soon and ask about me. Sure enough, Toby comes by.

"Hey, how's it hanging?" He asks, a short click added afterwards. I have no energy left, it is all being spent on useless bodily functions like breathing and circulation. But I still drag myself across the floor to get to the door so I can respond.

Two knocks. Positive answer.

"Cool. Good to hear. Go out again? 'Cuz I didn't hear nothing and I was awake half the night."

I knock twice. It has become the standard that I lie. If I die while they don't suspect anything then I will have the best results.

"You really are quiet now, huh? Being extra careful so no one knows if you're out or not?"

Again, twice.

"Uh-huh. Sure. I believe you." Toby's tone is a stark contrast to his actual words. Sarcasm, obviously. "It's laundry day again, and it's piled up high. You have bedsheets to do now too. Up the whole night, I'd say. Might as well get something to eat while up and out there."

He knows. And he is backing me into a corner. I have to do laundry tonight or someone will know something is wrong. Worst case scenario, I'm killed. But the energy that I have is too little. I didn't eat enough while I was still walking around and venturing out at night. I thought that would work to my advantage and help me out. But all it did was turn around to bite me in the ass.

"Unless..."

A spark of hope ignites in me. The kindling is set ablaze by his next offer.

"I could do it for you. For a price, obviously. What do you say?"

I knock twice. Anything he throws at me, I am sure I can wiggle my way through an exploited loophole.

"I don't intend on doing anything like Ben did. But if you could, please let me in."

I am unsure of how to respond. Do I knock once or twice? The laundry has to be done, otherwise, Slenderman might actually kill me. But on the other hand, if I take Toby's offer my strike will end prematurely. Can I play it off as just not wanting to show my face?

"Worth a shot, anyway," Toby says, not waiting for my answer. "I'll do it for you, because I'm just that great a guy. But I do want you to let me in. If not into your room, then maybe into your life. Just a little. That's all I ask."

His words are playful and fun but also kind and touching. I want to believe this is all a deception, that Toby is faking it all to turn me into an emotionless killer. But the sincerity I feel from his honest words goes against my wishes. He makes everything so hard for me. I kind of want to tell him that, yet at the same time he would get satisfaction out of knowing he is keeping me strong.

I stop responding, waiting for Toby to just walk away and leave me alone. Instead, I hear him sit against the door. I imagine us to both have our backs against the door, that wood being the only barrier between us touching.

"Do I gotta work to get close to you? Oh man, that's cruel." Toby laughs. It's infectious and makes a giggle swell up in my chest. But I don't let it out and let it bubble up before it fades away.

"Well, I don't think you want to hear any sob stories, so how's this? I once found Jeff stuck in a tree. The branches were pretty frail. When I finally convinced him to come down he put all his weight onto one weak branch. Then SNAP! Right on his ass. Oh god, you had to be there to see the look on his face."

Toby busts out laughing. It actually brings a smile to my face. That does sound pretty funny. But I have to question why he is telling me this. I do want to hear more though.

"Geez, I hope you're laughing silently and not asleep or something. It'd be pretty lame if I am just talking to myself right now," Toby says after coming down from his laughter high. I knock twice, just so he knows I'm listening. "Then what else can I tell you? Ooo, how about when I was making fun of Ben's name? That was a good time. You probably don't know this, but Ben is actually spelt like BEN!" Toby shouts the name the second time. It makes me jump a little.

"Like, all capitals. Weird, I know. That's how it is in the game file he haunts so he kinda just adopted it as his new name spelling. One day I was thinking about it. Like, huh, he's a freak. Which he is a freak, by the way. And I got thinking; 'wouldn't it be funny if I just shouted his name'. Ya know, because it's all capitals. So for the rest of the day, I would just talk normally but shout his name whenever talking to him. Pretty obnoxious of me, I know, but I enjoyed myself. He got mad and chased me around. I threatened to throw water at him.

"By the way, BEN drowned. Just thought you should know. So he's kinda half-dead like a physical ghost type of thing. But he has a fear of water. He can drink it and shower and stuff, but he does not like water in any other way. Literally avoided a room once because water was spilled on the ground. So if he ever bothers you again, just say you'll pour water on him. Then he'll run for the hills."

I have no idea why Toby is telling me this stuff. The pen and notepad is still in my room, so I could easily ask. Yet the grudge I hold stops me. Instead, I just listen to what he has to say. Occasionally I'll knock when he asks me a question if I'm still awake. But I just let him talk, telling me story after story. Even giving me a bit of news that I'd be missing from not reading the paper or being on my phone. Sleep starts to take over my body again. It tugs at my eyelids. And I start to nod off while Toby tells me about some construction that was delayed for another month in the city.