Not Crazy to Me | Slashers x Nurse!Reader

Chapter 12: Wake Up.

Everything was warm. Too, too warm. You had been here for seconds, and already sweat clung to your skull, your throat dry as sand, fighting back the urge to cough. Where... were you? You scan your surroundings, a mess of thick metal pipes criss-crossing like vines overhead. You were on a metal-mesh pathway, suspended over what you could only assume to be the pits of hell. To your right was a tall metal wall- no, one side of a massive furnace that was boiling to the touch and sent off heat in scorching waves. You take a few steps away from it, the rubber bottoms of your shoes making sticky peeling sounds whenever they were lifted, and sizzling like eggs on a frying pan whenever they were placed down again. The floor was hot, the air was thick, and the railing burnt your hand as you set it down. You pulled it away with a hiss as fear pushed its way through your chest, trying to get you to panic, but you held your breath and closed your eyes, keeping your cool; at least for now. You had to stay calm, and figure out what was going on. Was this some sort of dream? The last thing you could remember was the infirmary, the promise of surgery thanks to the slices on your stomach. Danny's freakout. You shudder at the memory and swallow down the lump forming in your throat.

"H-Hello?!" you call out, listening as your voice echoes throughout the boiler room. It doesn't sound like you. It sounds weak, scared, and urgent. It matches the urgency in your chest. "Is a-anyone here?" you call out again, and set off forwards at a quick pace. Your shoes stick and hiss, stick and hiss as they're lifted and placed down, reminding you of mud of gum stuck to your shoes. You swallow hard, and open your mouth to speak again when something beside you explodes with a hiss, a sharp cloud of boiling steam blasting into your arm. You let out a scream, stumbling backwards a few steps and out of the steams way. Your arm stung, reddened, but it was just fine. Your nerves were fried and fear pressed in around the edges of your mind, but you took a breath, as deep as the heat would allow. You couldn't pass through the steam, it was much too warm. Instead, you turned around hurrying off in the other direction. Your pace quickened ever so slightly as the urgency in your chest bloomed, spreading like fire. You were so hot. You were boiling. You move a little faster, then suddenly you hear another set of footsteps following behind you. You whip around, expecting to see Satan himself, but no one is there, nothing is there. You're okay, (Y/N). You turn around once more. The footsteps return, and you glance over your shoulder again. You don't see a thing. Instead of sticking around to search, you move even faster, a borderline jog down the path you hoped would lead to safety and salvation.

Your breathing was shallow, stolen by the thickness of the air around you as your pace quickened and quickened. The footsteps behind you didn't slow, and before you knew it you were sprinting onwards, throwing looks over your shoulders and seeing nothing. You knew, knew something was there, chasing after you. Your lungs burnt with lack of air and your head throbbed from the heat, a sudden explosion of pain erupting in your side and bringing you to a halt, stumbling forwards and to your knees. Your hands help to break your fall, and hiss as they come in contact with the hot metal of the floor. Your scream, rocketing to your feet. You place your hands on your side, and pull them away to notice that they're covered in blood. Your blood. Your breathing quickens further as you lift up your shirt, seeing the crimson soaking your skin as the wound on your side is reopened. The footsteps sound behind you again. You had forgotten about them. You start forwards again with a scream, and swear that you felt the phantom-feeling of hands moving to grab you. Now, you're too afraid to look behind you, in too much pain to think straight with one hand pressed to your bleeding wound. You squeeze your eyes shut as you run, praying to whoever may be listening that you'll wake up just fine, safe, in the hospital with all of the people you're caring for and all the people who are caring for you. Wake up, (Y/N), it's a dream! You scream at yourself in your mind, and then you're actually screaming it.