A Simple Virus - BEN Drowned X Reader

Level 8

The subtle sound of beeps increasing by the second is what woke you up. Your head felt very heavy, it's pounding making you wince. Were you in an urgent care center?

"Oh, (Y/N), you're awake!" A familiar voice brought you to a focus. It was your (parental nickname), so you lightly smile.

"What happened?" You mumble, thinking back to what went down in your bedroom. You remember the ghost, and all the events leading up to the final moments of consciousness. BEN let you go, leading all your momentum into slamming your head on your desk.

You groan, and look to the doctor and nurses testing your vitals. "Everything seems to be okay, and you aren't feeling much dizziness or disoriented vision, right?" You nod while the doctor writes on his clipboard. "Then, I'd say she's good to go, just watch for any late signs of a concussion or if there's an infection brewing where the stitches are. Your parents thank him and the nurses, then motion you to leave.

The ride home was short and silent, leaving you to your thoughts and the subsiding pounding left in your head. You couldn't stop thinking about the ghost. How could he possibly be real? Wrapping your head around the idea that CreepyPasta was, in fact, real left you shocked and afraid. People were watching you, he was watching you, for YEARS. All those times you were spending alone time, crying, fangirling, having sleepovers, reading, singing, dancing, studying. The worst part was he probably saw you naked countless times.

A shiver ran up your spine, and you began to feel sick. How would you get rid of him? It wasn't like you could call the cops, nobody would believe you. Although you read much about him in middle school, you were positive a bunch of made up nonsense outside of the origin story was going to help. The fact that he could travel through devices also meant you weren't able to look anything up, leaving you helpless and afraid.

A tap on your window jolted you back to reality, in which you realize you've made it home. Once you make it to your room, you merely stare into it. Being just outside the door frame didn't help the fear you had stepping in. BEN was in there, waiting for who-knows-what. You gently grab at your heart, then walk into your room. Immediately, you feel a rush of cold, and rub your arms. You wanted to change into something comfortable, like pajamas, but couldn't even think about it without remembering all the times he had seen you undress.

You end up shuffling through your drawers, and pull out sweatpants and a hoodless sweatshirt, and look around. Your room didn't feel like home anymore, it felt foreign. Looking towards your open laptop, and the TV in the corner of your room, you sigh, and decide not even the bathroom would be safe to change in. You slide under your covers, and struggle to change, but eventually end up laying in bed with a better outfit choice.

"Really?" You whip your head towards the voice, to find the ghost leaning against your closet, hands across his chest and a smirk playing on his lips. "It's nothing I haven't seen before, but I'm sure you already know that." You sit up, and pull your knees to your chest, watching for his next move while your heart beat rapidly in your chest.

"Don't wanna talk then, huh?" He brushes a piece of hair into his green felted hat, "That's fine, I guess I deserve it, but I don't regret any second I spend watching you. I originally planned to kill you, ya know."

"Why didn't you, then?" You mumble, gripping at your sweatpants.

He grunts, and brushes some dust off of his dripping tunic. "Ah, so they do speak!" Your heart rate increases as he moves closer. BEN leans over you, tracing your jawline with his pointer finger. You close your eyes, feeling yourself slightly shake. "It's like I said before, your investment in my origin story and how all the others came to be. It kept me interested to see how things went. Suddenly, you grew up," BEN pulls your chin up towards him once more, "and I got interested in other things, if you know what I mean." He chuckles, leaning in.