DannyPhantom.exe POV Oneshots

❌️Careful Little Eyes

POV: you weren't supposed to see that

❌Trigger Warnings❌
- non-descriptive violence
- murder
- kidnapping
- implied abuse

❗Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. Actions taken by characters in the story do not portray real events, nor are they meant to defame character of those being portrayed.

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Your heart pounded against your rib cage as you held your hand over your mouth, praying you wouldn't make a sound. The scene playing out before you was like some kind of real life crime thriller. A tall, broad shouldered man who's face you hadn't seen stood over your prone uncle. The old drunk was sobbing on the floor, probably out of both fear and pain.

From what you had heard of the conversation between strikes and cries of agony your uncle had failed to pay back his debt to the man's employer, dispite several genourous extensions. Whoever he owed apparently had enough, and had sent the figure looming over your uncle like the grim reaper.

"Please, please. I'll get the money... I swear!" Your uncle sobs on the carpet, curling in on himself. You can't help but feel there is a bit of karmic justice in the situation. How many times had you been in his position with him looming over you?

"You've been given ample time to repay what you owe. My employers are no longer interested in money, they want blood." The man drawls in a deep, British accent that sounds far to sophisticated for a home invader.

Your eyes go wide as the cocking of a pistol echoes over your uncles whimpers. Despite the warning you aren't prepared for the loud bang, nor the flash that accompanies it.

You didn't realize you'd made a noise until the man's head whipped in your direction.

Your heart, that had been pounding only moments before, felt as if it stopped for a moment. This man, a killer, was gorgeous. You take in his model like features framed by soft, wavy brown hair. Sharp, chocolate colored eyes honed on you and went from wide to narrowed in a second.

The awe you felt is quickly overtaken by fright as he quickly closes the distance between himself and the door. Loosing your balance you fall back on your bottom and scamper back against the wall beneath the musty coats hanging above you as he yanks the door open, flooding the space with light and making you flinch.

"Well, what do we have here?" The rumble of his beautiful voice sends a shiver through you as he crouches down to your level.

You whimper as he reaches out a hand toward you, turning your head expecting a strike. Instead black latex covered fingertips brush your cheek.

"What's a pretty thing like you doing in the closet, darling? Hmm?" When you don't answer his hand trails from your face to your hair, grabbing a fistful and yanking your head back, "I asked you a question, little one."

"H-he's my uncle..." You whimper, "please... Please don't hurt me. I won't tell anyone, I swear!"

"As much as I'd like to believe you, darling. I can't take that chance."

You expect him to kill you, give you the same end as your uncle. Instead his hand slips down to the back of your neck, gripping lightly. He pulls you out of the closet.

He leaves you on your knees with an order to stay and be quiet, pacing a few steps away he pulls out a phone. He takes a picture of your late uncle before he taps a few things on the screen and holds it to his ear.

"It's done. I expect the rest of my payment by tomorrow morning." He ends the call and replaces the phone in his pocket, walking back over to you.

"Now, lets take care of you, darling."

Whatever color that was left in your face drains as he crouches in front of you for the second time that evening. Tears prick the corner of your eyes as one of his hands slides to the base of your neck. You're expecting to be strangled, so when his hand moves and his thumb presses into a pressure point your eyes go wide.

"Just relax, darling." He soothes as your vision darkens and your body goes slack, causing you to slump into his arms.

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The low hum of an engine slowly pulls you back to consciousness. A vibration in your cheek pulsing through your skull. You open your eyes to take in your surroundings, but all you see is black. A few attempts of blinking reveal your blindfolded, and a impulsive bodily jerk to try and remove the visual obstruction reveals your wrists are bound behind your back as you lie across what you now realize is a car seat.

"Y/n," your name is said in warning.

When did he learn that? You never told him...

"It's not that difficult to look through county records," he explains as if reading your mind, "would you prefer I continue calling you darling?" He asks, "I think it suits you."

You don't reply, mind having moved on from the conversation to what he could possibly want with you. You had no inherent value. No one would pay ransom, you didn't have any information to offer. He should have killed you with your uncle, made the scene look like a simple robbery gone wrong. Instead he was risking suspicion by hauling a high school senior around.

Legal adult. 18 years old. Would that change the police perspective? There weren't signs of a struggle between you and your capture. What if they assumed you were an accomplice to his murder?

"You're thinking too hard, darling." The man drawls, "do you really think a professional such as myself would leave a trail to follow?"

He had a point there.

"What are you going to do with me?" You ask quietly, returning to your first concern.

He chuckles lightly, "Does it really matter, darling? It won't change the outcome whether you know or not." He says in a teasing tone.

"I just want to mentally prepare..."

"Where's the fun in that, sweetheart?"

He's enjoying the power dynamic... That much is clear. You just wonder how long he plans to play this game.

Because it's inevitable that he will tire of you, and you're worried about what happens when he's no longer amused.