Chapter Text
(Y/n) - Your name
(F/c) - Favorite color
(S/c) - Skin color
(E/c) - eye color
(H/l) - Hair length
(H/c) - Hair Color
Disclaimer: This fic contains blood, violence, graphic gore, death, etc. As well as mentions of mentions of physical/psychological/sexual abuse. These things will not be vividly described but they will be talked about quite heavily. Drug/Alcohol consumption will also be a running theme. Creepypasta designs are slightly to significantly altered in this fic. Please don't be weird about (Y/n) being autistic. Autistic people literally get no representation in X Reader's. Please also don't be weird about Jack and Jeff being trans men. As well as Jane and Natalie being lesbians. I get this won't be for a lot of people but please just try and watch what you say in the comments.
----
This would be the last night you'd sit together like this. Beneath the willow tree that you'd spent day after day under together. Sitting comfortably against it's trunk or laying on the soft grass below it's swaying branches. Hours passing as the two of you would talk about whatever two thirteen year old's talk about. Trauma and the latest Youtube sketch comedy video that was obnoxiously crude.
It was cool out, occasionally a breeze would lazily blow through the green-ish yellow leafs. A mid August night, summer break coming to a close in a week. You weren't prepared to go into the eighth grade, being a middle schooler was tough shit. Being without him to skulk through the halls with, sit together at mostly empty lunch tables with, murmur judgments of your peers back and forth while eating dry sandwiches, it'd be different, hard, and shitty.
No more sitting at the end of his nicely paved driveway, looking from under the comfortably familiar willow tree to the treeline that you'd braved past only a few times. No more physical support from one of the few people who tried to understand you. No more walking down the road to his house, traversing up the steep hill that was his front lawn, adorned with bushes and dormant flowers. No more nice store bought snacks. No more sitting next to him and his brother, playing the latest brain-melting video games. But that didn't mean you'd stop talking, stop being friends, it just meant there'd be a massive distance between you two. It'd be rough for awhile but you had the internet to keep in contact with him. Jeffery Woods.
"I just don't fucking get it!" The tree softly shook with the impact of his pathetically small teenage fist upon it's bark, "Why do we have to move?!"
His voice had a sharp edge, hateful, bitter. He could feign confusion all he wanted but his parents explained the reason for the move multiple times. Clothes had already been forced into suitcases and furniture packed into rented moving vans. They sprung it on him last week, not giving a single fuck about what he had to say about it. The future had been set in stone.
It was hard to know what to do when he got like this, angry, willing to lash out at whatever or whoever he saw fit. May it be puny bullies or rocks that he'd break his hand on from punching over and over. Sometimes even small woodland creatures, but you didn't like to think about that. Maybe if you tried to put it in a better light he'd feel a bit better, you weren't the best with your words, but you wanted to try to soothe him. Even if was the tiniest, most insignificant amount, "Well-"
"I know it's 'cuz my stupid fucking dad got some big fucking job at some big fucking company!" Jeff just wanted to word vomit out his frustrations, throwing another punch at the willow tree that had grown bigger with the two of you though the years. "Well," His patsy knuckles were growing irritated, layers of skin starting to peel, "I don't fucking care! Dad can suck a dick!"
They never cared much for them, Jeff and Liu. They threw store bought goods at them, buying them whatever they wanted, anything to get them to shut up and fuck off so they could do their, oh so important, work. Wealthy and white, living in the nicest house with the most in-season furniture, whatever the hell that meant. They were the type of parents to think that buying their kids shit counted as emotional labor, setting a good example, and raising them right. Using material objects and things Jeff needed as ammunition to fire whenever they acted up. Saying that they bought this and that for them, so they had no right to be upset.
Sometimes Liu thought it was because they were trying to make up for what they did to them when they were younger. Jeff was always cynical though, never believing the explanation that made them seem like slightly less shitty people. They stopped the worst of it but the effects on their two sons were life long. You'd never heard the details from either of the boys, just bringing it up would make Liu's eyes glaze over and he'd start to shake, the older boy you looked up to weak and shivering just from the thought of his childhood.
Their parents never actually apologized. They didn't care what their sons thought of them, as long as they were the well behaved trophy children they wanted them to be, they could do whatever the hell they wanted. The thing was, Jeff was never going to sit down with nice posture, he was never going to say please or thank you, he refused to be what his parents wanted him to be. So they just kept on pouring out their wallets in hopes he'd calm the fuck down.
His parents just went harder on him, trying to use the fact that they 'allowed' him to get a Supprelin implant meant that they were good parents who didn't deserve to be called 'pencil pushing fucksticks'. They did deserve to be called that shit honestly. Jeff wanted the implant for the sole reason that he knew that if he went for monthly shots, his parents would confiscate them if he acted up. Holding things that he needed medically over his head like they always did, berating him whenever they weren't ignoring him.
Another fist collided with the tree trunk, shakily pulling it away with a pained hiss, he reeled his arm back to hit the undeserving bark once more. You snatched his wrist, he was going to break his hand again at this rate. The idiot had weak bones and always seemed to forget that, not taking his vitamin D supplements and punching anything in his line of sight when upset. "Stop."
Jeff sometimes didn't know when to. Controlling himself was a problem of his, especially when he was angry. But he wasn't just pissed, he was sad. Looking to you with a quivering lip and eyes heavy with tears that had yet to spill. He always hated crying, thought it made him weak, so he held in his tears. Once in a blue moon though, he'd let them flow and from the way the tears were about to overflow passed his lower eyelids, tonight would be one of those rare occasions.
Though you could see the gears turning in his head, sucking his lips into his mouth while he decided if he should cry or not. He decided quickly, the two of you didn't have much more time together. It was almost midnight and they'd be leaving for Connecticut at five in the morning. "I want to stay with you."
"I know." You grimly acknowledged, doing your best to maintain eye contact. Lowering his hand to his side, comforted by the fact that he ceased the senseless punching, you held your arms out. An awkward invitation for a hug, he looked like he needed one, "I don't want you to go either."
Jeff practically jumped on you, having you stumble a few steps back as he tightly wrapped his arms around your sides. Shoving his head onto your shoulder, body shuddering as he allowed himself to cry. You wrapped you arms around his torso, rocking back and forth on your heels as he whimpered and whined, fiddling with the ends of his brown hair, it'd grown darker as you both aged, the light brown growing deeper and darker with every passing year. He was babbling out sentiments of wanting to stay in New Jersey, wanting to live with you even though you both knew his parents wouldn't let it happen, proposing the idea that you come with him, that you keep staying by his side, keep growing up together.
Neither of you wanted this to end, summers spent sitting on the floor of his room, staring at Playboy's he stole from under his parent's shared bed. Playing rainbow road in Mario Kart, listening to alternative rock from the speakers of his laptop, coming up with elaborate ways to help him cheat on the next math test. Phones would connect you but you wouldn't be by each others side near constantly. There'd be an odd sense of loss and loneliness even though you'd still be in one another's lives.
You patted his back as he kept on going, not knowing what to say. Dread heavy in your gut, so much so that it was painful. Sniffling as he grieved into you, that same old ratty hoodie hanging loosely off his frame. You stole it out of your schools lost and found before summer break, a birthday present. It was over-sized and white, though there were splotches of unknown red stains on the thing, probably dollar store paint or pasta sauce. Middle schoolers aren't exactly known for their cleanliness after all.
Affection and friends went hand in hand in your book. It was an act of comfort for the boy, turning your head and pressing your lips softly onto his forehead. Jeff instantly froze up, ceasing his hitched breaths, pulling back.
"Oh sorry, did I do something wrong?" You asked, sometimes you did things that would be deemed as offensive or crass without meaning to. You were trying to learn socially, mimic how others go about these sorts of things. Though only being thirteen, you were still pretty garbage at 'acting normal'.
"No." He instantly replied, wide eyed and pale face flushed, "I just," He shuffled out of the hug, sliding down the trunk of the tree looking shell-shocked, "Ya'know."
You plopped down beside him, sides brushing together and hands close. "I don't."
Jeff's lips formed into a tight line, bright blue eyes fixated on yours. "I-" He looked away, the break of eye contact came with a shift of his hand, now resting atop yours. He continued, unable to bring himself to look your way with pink cheeks, "I just really don't want to leave."
"Don't worry," An imaginary weight was lifted off your shoulders with the break of intense eye contact, something you were still forcing yourself to work on, "I'll text you whenever I can! I'll be tell you all the dumb stuff that June Byrck says at school." He was starting to shudder, things he'd miss out on, but you kept trying, "I'll call you everyday after school. I bet that Sarah Rodney's gonna dress like a," You thought for a moment, raking your thirteen year old mind for a biting insult, "I dunno, like how she always dresses on the first day." Way too many layers and color combos that went horribly together, she called Jeff ugly a couple times. So you made an immature effort to occasionally make fun of her for Jeff's sake, the boy always seemed to enjoy it.
A hitching exhale was let out of his upturned nose, "That'd be cool." He mumbled, tears still slipping down his cheeks, crying about to pick back up.
You stayed by his side until the sun started to peak over the trees across the road. Your eyes and heart heavy but you wanted to spend every little second you could with him before he left. Your head resting on his shoulder as you sleepily mumbled promises back and forth that when you both got cars and learned to drive that you'd visit each other all the time. Move in together in your twenties and go to the same college.
It sounded like a good plan to the both of you. Hopeful, lovely, free of shitty parents, the bright future just a few years ahead.
----
"I'm telling you Noah." You whisper-shouted passionately, "He's just so overrated." You paused to put two cans of tomato sauce on a high shelf, grunting in effort. Overnight stocking wasn't the most exciting day job, more accurately night job, out there but it was alright money. Not having to talk to annoying customers, a simple routine heavy job. All you and your small handful of coworkers had to do was put goods on shelves in the right place almost every night.
Noah Barkley was the man intently listening to you, close friend of yours for the past four years, roommate for two. A black coily faux hawk with dyed blonde tips. Dark skin that was scarily free of blemishes, the man's skin care routine was rigorous. He made it look effortless sometimes. A bit heavy set, though he tried not to get too down on himself for it. When he did have bad days, thinking he was ugly for being chubbier than average, you were there to comfort him and remind him that societal expectations were garbage.
You met on the job on your first day, and you were almost instantly comforted by his presence. He had resting nice face and was always willing to help out when you messed up. Shelve stocking was relatively simple but you fucked up quite a few times at first, not integrating into the mostly quiet team of people so easily.
Shifts were long as all hell but you had to pay tuition somehow. Keep yourself afloat, pay for your own food while staying on the couch of a friend. The relationship had grown strained and awkward ever since their significant other moved in, she didn't like you so they'd not so subtly hinted at you to move the fuck out. That's where Noah came in, ever the guardian angel.
Making friends was something that was difficult for you as a kid, especially early high school after what happened. What he did. You'd grown past it, being much better socially but there was still an odd sense of trepidation when it came to making close friends. Noah was a patient man, smiley, and understanding. Your friendship started off quickly despite your initial shyness, all it took was him saying that he liked the pins on your dull (f/c) bomber that you wore everywhere you went. All enamel with silver linings, slasher masks, cryptids of all kinds, and cute pride flags.
You then proceeded to talk his ear off about Bigfoot. A first impression that you were later a bit embarrassed about but he reassured you that it was fine, he liked listening to people go on about what they were passionate about. The guy was a real empath, not coming into work every two days to go to night school. A fellow twenty-tree year old college student, he was looking to be a nurse. The two of you attended the same university in New Brunswick, New Jersey. A college town filled to the brim with caffeine fueled students.
People sometimes called New Jersey the armpit of the nation but you never understood that logic. The entire United States was a giant cesspool, a massive armpit. New Jersey was just a smaller piece of the armpit, but definitely not the worst state to live in. Florida was still around after all.
After two years of a solid friendship, you were on the brink of getting kicked out. Noah was just so happening to be looking for a roommate to help out with rent, things fell into place after that. The two of you falling into a comfortable routine. Working late night shifts, coming home in the early hours of the morning and passing out till three in the afternoon. When you were still doing classes, you'd hurry to your afternoon lectures, coming home hours later. The two of you would eat TV dinners while watching hospital dramas. He pointed out tons of misconduct from the morally gray doctors, the two of you laughing at the more stupidly written lines, parroting them back and forth for days. Then you'd head to work, the both of you taking the subway for transit. It was nice.
You'd taken a year off college due to stress stacking up and needing to focus more on yourself for a bit. Finally graduating Rutgers University was as exhilarating a thought as it was terrifying. It meant being a full fledged adult in the public eye, years of the routine that was school coming to an end way too quick. The year off was like a cushion for you to 'find yourself', mostly just come to terms that your life was changing faster than you thought it was.
While your college career was on hold you had more time to look deeper into your interests. Getting recently into some new branches but still loving and respecting the roots.
"He's cute though." Noah gave you a playful side eye while sliding the last of the tomato soup cans upon the high shelf.
"Everyone thinks he's cute." You rolled your eyes, voice threatening to raise. You didn't like drawing attention to yourself too much, even though there weren't many people in the ShopRite to draw attention from. You walked a tightrope, wanting to jabber at whatever volume about your passions while also not bothering your fellow food stockers. They weren't bad or rude people in the slightest, just your average people who worked night shifts. Middle aged, hard working, tired. You'd feel an odd sense of guilt if you bothered them, anxieties telling you how shitty you were already for talking Noah's ear off. Yet he'd assured you multiple times that he liked hearing you chatter. He was less of a talker, more of a listener. Doing his best to be understanding of everybody though it was hard for him to get all your little intricacies at first, he was willing to live and learn.
"Look," You fakely sighed, comfortable enough around him to be more expressive, "I get that mothman has a statue with a nice ass but that doesn't mean that the real thing has such a cute little bubble butt. Like," You took a moment to articulate your thoughts and feelings on the cryptid, "I respect that for a lot of people he's a good introduction to cryptids. Then from there you get into some fun horror stuff and maybe you go crazy and start looking into old gods." You described yourself in an act of self awareness, "But! He's just way over hyped I think. He flies and walks around a bit and suddenly he's famous!" There was some speculation that he'd been connected to some horrible events but you didn't have the next couple hours cleared to get into that. "He's super cool don't get me wrong but," You began to neatly shove cans of peas onto lower shelves, "I think that people need to move onto something else. Another cool monster but one who has more information and history that isn't just blurry sightings at night. Like recently I fell down this rabbit hole of Norse mythology and there's this really cool god. Technically they didn't call him a god but from how he was treated and what his role was in the universe, he's basically a god and-"
"Hey." You froze your pea shelving and rambling, stiffly turning at the sudden appearance of two more of your coworkers. You think their names were Jason and Micheal, big guys, really quiet, menacing and having an overall weird vibe. Though they weren't malicious, "We can take over."
The one you believed to be Jason pointed a fat finger to the boxes at the two of your feet. Sometimes they did little acts of service like this, almost always when you were almost done with your shift. Giving you the option to leave twenty minutes early, clocking out for you and not telling your supervisor. You always theorized something suspicious was afoot but Noah took it in stride, telling you not to look a gift horse in the mouth, whatever that meant.
He did always try to be polite and say, "You sure? We don't mind finishing up on our own."
You fidgeted with the worn cuffs of your bomber while they talked back and forth. Hyping yourself up to talk to the intimidating men. Talking to others was something you could do, some people were just a lot harder for you to make yourself talk to. The men's vibe didn't help their case.
"We are." The shorter man affirmed shortly, "Get outta here. We'll finish up." It was more of an implied command over the friendly offer of a coworker. You just wanted to get away from them, their presence oppressive and overwhelming. You gave up on the idea of saying a thank you.
"Alright. Thanks." Noah mimicked the man's tone, quick and to the point. He was off put by them too, also wanting to get out of dodge. He turned, putting a hand on your shoulder as the men just fucking stared, stiffly nodding and kneeling to the boxes.
Speed walking into the dark ShopRite parking lot, the two of you made sure you had all your possessions on your person as he told you his plans. "Yeah, I'm going to be heading to James's place for the night." Noah's boyfriend couldn't afford to pay rent with the two of you. Also it wasn't his house, it was his parents. You once asked about why Noah didn't just live with Jame's and his parents. You were informed that James's parents were hoarders, their house an almost unlivable hellscape. Noah only spent the occasional night over, trying to convince James's to get a job, move into the apartment with you both, just get away from his slobs for parents.
His house was a ten minute walk down the sidewalk, a pretty straightforward route. While you had to take the subway home, alone at four in the morning. At the crossroad that was the stairs leading into the underground, Noah asked, "Are you sure you're good going home alone?"
He knew you were capable of taking care of yourself, you had the keys to your shared living space in your jacket pocket, phone stuffed beside them. Noise canceling Bluetooth headphones hung around your neck, ready to play the same three albums on repeat. Just waiting to block out the obnoxious grating of metal wheels on old tracks.
A hand idly rubbed the cool surface of an enamel pin, ironically mothman on a skateboard. "Yeah man, I'll be fine."
Though Noah wasn't one to baby you, he worried about all the strange happenings in the subways in the wee hours of the morning. Though neither of you experienced anything too scary, just the occasional rambling drunkard but nothing like the rumors you'd heard. The over embellished ones, common yet unrealistic fears of masked homicidal maniacs, government kidnappings, and armed robberies. Though there'd genuinely never been a death or a fatal attack in the subway, Noah was still a worry wart. He took care of others quite well, but once he got a 'what if' in his head, he thought about it nonstop.
You'd do your best to comfort him, "I'll call you if anything happens. I'll see you in the morning dude." You had to keep the goodbye quick or else his worry would continue to fester and he'd call you every half-hour on the dot to ask if you were alright. It was sweet but it could get annoying.
Noah sighed, a cool mid-August breeze bringing the scent of humid garbage with it. Lovely. He held up a hand in a curt wave, "Have a safe trip home, alright?"
"Will do." You waved back, starting to descend into the concrete underground.
"Bye (Y/n)!" He called down the stairs.
There was practically no one bustling about, the few people you could see were sleeping on benches. You didn't want to disturb them but you replied just loud enough for Noah to hear, "Later man."
You bounded down the rest of the steps, making your way quickly passed the turnstile. The tunnel was quite empty, not surprising. It was roughly four in the morning, not many people were taking the subway right now. You were lucky that the subway ran twenty-four hours of the day even with the lower passenger rates. Buses were an option but they took so many stops that were out of the way of your destination, you'd have to ride the damn things for at least an hour before you got to your work. The subway may have been a lot grimier but you could get to work relatively quickly, not have to set aside a fat chunk of your time just to have to deal with an annoyingly long ride.
Click, clack, click, clack.
The repetitive sound of heels on tile mildly piqued your interest but you didn't look towards it. Just another person coming home on a late night, their night probably much more luxurious than yours.
Though you wouldn't admit it, being alone in the subway tunnels so late at night, more accurately in the morning, made you nervous. Anyone would be, some crazy person could just approach you and there'd hardly be anyone around to help. But you always did your best to brush the unlikely scenario off your shoulder. But you always kept your headphones off your ears until you were safely in one of the metal cars. Anxiety always whispering in your ears that the grisly scenario would play out if you put the headphones on, some creep coming to whisk you away or bury a knife in your gut from behind while you weren't listening.
Click, clack, click, clack.
Standing obediently behind the yellow line in the tiles, you waited for those two piercing lights to cut through the dark tunnel that was the signifier of your ride home coming to pick you up.
Click, clack, click, clack.
"You." Low, muffled, almost alluring if it wasn't absolutely dripping with animosity. Was that aimed at you?
You whipped your head to the side and took in the sight of the woman. Your first thought was, 'wow, what the fuck?'
She was far from what you'd describe as an average person. It wasn't often you'd seen someone wearing black gloves that went all the way up to their mid-arm. As well as tall black ankle boots, a long pointed heel that told you they had to be painful to walk in. A curvy body draped in a form fitting, also black, dress, shoulderless and coming up to wrap around her neck. The exposed skin that you could see was mildly concerning, twisted and contorted, some areas off-color. Some sort of scarring you'd guess, but that wasn't any of your business.
The part that had you absolutely reeling was the mask. Contrasting her uneven skin with a shiny white and smooth surface. Sculpted shapely lips painted black, blacked out eyes with obnoxiously pointed and feminine eyelashes drawn on, unnecessary eyebrows completing the mask. Giving it an almost knowing smile, like she knew something you didn't. Framing the bright white was luscious black curls, draped around her almost beautifully. But you weren't here to check the strange woman out, you were more so alarmed this stranger approached you of all people. Wearing a mask of all things.
A heavy pit formed in your gut just looking at her, you took a step back as she stood still only feet away. She spoke once more in her smooth yet seemingly hateful tone, impatiently asking, "Are you (Y/n) (L/n)?"
You blinked, mouth falling open as confusion wracked your brain. What was this, some kind of prank? Or was she some obsessive stalker coming for your head? All you had to say was, "What?"
She repeated herself, tone growing only darker, a slight growl, "Are you (Y/n) (L/n)?"
You took another step back while she took one closer. Click. Leaning forward like she was about to pounce, not giving you room to breathe or think.
Talking around people you were intimidated by at work was a struggle, but this was something else. Something sinister that you didn't want any part in. Your brain ran through scenario after scenario, you were one to think things through before acting, calculating your odds of success in everyday situations before even going about them. You had to be careful, throw her off track. Running would just confirm that you were in fact who she said you were. You didn't like this one fucking bit, anxiety running high, adrenaline telling you to run but your mind kept you in place. Throwing out the best response you could out as fast as you could, thinking that if you were too slow that she'd catch on.
"No. I don't know who that is." You couldn't keep the quiver out of your voice as you tried and failed to smile at her, like you weren't shitting your pants.
Another step forward from the woman, clack. One more step back from you, heart racing at the sight of the masked weirdo dressed like a super fashionable goth. The two of you stayed frozen like that for a few moments more, air crackling with thick tension. You thought it best to try and ease the tension with more lies, "I'm not her. Please leave me alone."
"I never said (Y/n) (L/n) was a woman." Her words cut through you coldly, click.
She caught you in a bald-faced lie, your mind fumbled for a better explanation, "Just uh," Your mouth was growing dryer by the second, "Sounds like a girl name? And also! My name is," Names were an easy and simple concept but all names seemed to disappear from your brain, you blabbered out the first combination of names you thought of, "Ollie Cherpussie!" You almost immediately smacked your forehead in stupid shame, subconsciously saying a pun of a name that Noah showed you last week.
He had been looking into gaming as of late. He saw you on your laptop playing and chattering with your friends who you called by their usernames. Noah wanted to join in on the fun even if he had no fucking idea how video games worked. He just wanted a silly name, you’d heard some dumb names in your day, and that one nearly took the cake. Him smiling widely as he suggested the idea.
AngryMom, shortened to Mom. BioDelta02, shorted to Bio. A couple that lived together in New York. You’d been playing online with them since late high school, dumb shooters, online board games, or just late night chitchats over Discord. They were good people and making friends online was a lot easier than it was in real life.
Your online friends gamertags didn’t matter right now though. They couldn’t help you all the way from New York. You were nearly alone in a dingy subway with some crazy goth lady who somehow knew your name and what you looked like.
You could just sense the look of distaste and annoyance on her face as she spoke once more, “Don’t lie to me, (Y/n).”
The jig was up and you knew it. The second best option at your disposal was exactly what you did, turn tail and book it. She hadn’t done anything, hadn’t pulled a gun or blade on you, or even threatened you for the matter. The thing is, when a masked woman approaches you in a mostly empty subway at four in the morning, you fucking run.
Your scruffy sneakers squeaked against the tile as you threw yourself away from her. She immediately gave chase, not good.
Click, clack, click, clack.
You couldn’t help but first think about how you were about to be maimed or worse. Found dead in a ditch or dismembered in trash bags that were scattered about the city. But if you wanted to not be dead by daylight, you had to push the nearly overwhelming thoughts away. You had to think of where you were going to go, what you’d do if she caught up to you. The uncertainty of the situation was wildly terrifying though, you didn’t know if she wanted to steal your identity or what but no matter the motive. She was still chasing you nonetheless, you didn’t know how long she was going to keep it up but you were betting that she wasn’t looking to leave you be.
Click, clack, click, clack.
“Get back here.” A muffled hiss from behind that sent a horrible chill down your spine. Irritating someone probably dangerous was never a good idea. You shot a glance over your shoulder while running alongside the subway platform, she was further away now. Running in heels like that had to have slowed her a good bit but she was still running, keeping up with you. An adrenaline fueled, confused, and terrified person.
Maybe you could reason with her, maybe you could try to have a silver tongue that you knew damn well you didn’t have. Talking calmed people down right? You knew that rambling calmed you down, maybe if she just let it all out, talked about whatever the hell led her to running after you in such a ridiculously fashionable outfit.
“What do you want? What’s going on?” You shouted the basic questions over your shoulder, you were getting a bit further away from her. Maybe she was a slow runner, maybe the heels were killing her feet, probably both.
Clackety-clack! Clackety-clack!
The grating of metal on old train tracks usually bothered the ever-loving shit out of you, but right now it sounded like your ticket to freedom. A twenty mile an hour speeding ticket out of the nearly empty subway tunnel. Those sleeping on benches only somewhat stirred, some starting to groggily awaken.
Clackety-clack! Clackety-clack!
“Stop running!” The woman growled in a huff, stamina being drained quickly as you increased the distance between the both of you, “You’re just making this harder on yourself.” You weren’t going to listen to her directions. Basic survival instinct telling you no, self preservation having you run faster and faster.
SSSSSSKRREEECH!
The gray mass roared past you, slowly coming to a stop, the screeching of the brakes making your skin crawl, but you had other things to worry about.
The doors slowly opened in a high pitched hiss. You immediately turned into the nearest open door, the woman a good few yards behind. That didn’t mean that you were in the clear yet, adrenaline telling you to keep on running down the metal isle until you were sure you were safe.
Heart thundering in the confines of your rib cage, you tore down the metal train car lined with ugly plush seats. Crumbled cans of soda and forgotten news paper lay upon on the steel that rattled beneath your feet as you moved. Continuously shooting glances over your shoulder as an automated voice spoke over the crackling loud speakers.
“Stand clear of the closing doors please.”
You felt the pit in your gut sink further just as the doors started to close. In the wee hours of the morning the conductors had a habit of just barely stopping at the stations. Hardly anybody was ever there anyways.
At the end of the train, the woman flew inside through a slowly closing door. If you didn’t get the hell out of dodge you’d be trapped with her. Only other train cars to run to. Which could work but you’d prefer not to be on the same transit as the mystery woman that was coming for your ass.
Just inches away was a closing window, more accurately door, of opportunity. She seemed to catch onto the look of hope crossing your face, shouting, “Don’t you dare!” You were already leaping from the doors, feeling the metal seal shut just behind your heel.
Taking a few hasty steps back, you brought a hand to your beating chest. Your relief didn’t last long. The black, tan, and white mass that was the woman stumbled into view of the subway doors. Divided by dirty glass and sealed doors. Her chest shuddering, probably taking labored breaths. Using a burst of stamina and angry determination to try to get to the door. Too bad for her because the doors were shut and the subway was starting to move.
The sight of her was mortifying, the woman who chased you for no discernible reason. What was even more terrifying was when you saw her bring her hands to center of the door, jamming her fingers into the plastic that sealed the doors shut. You just barely got a glimpse of her moving her gloved arms, a sharp 'skkkerch' sounding from the door as they were forcibly pried open a single inch. What the fuck?
Clackety-clack! Clackety-clack!
You weren't going to dwell on the she-hulk that was being whisked away in a metal car. You weren't going to stick around, jumpy and eager to get off the platform and onto a train. Be taken the hell out of here and just go home. Be somewhere that didn't feel suddenly tainted with a horrible association.
Clackety-clack! Clackety-clack!
You got a glimpse of the woman as she further tore the doors apart, this time much more than a single inch. You whipped your head to the train that just pulled up on the other side of platform.
SSSSSSKRREEECH!
You had no idea where it went but you just wanted away from the masked woman. Sneakers squeaking on tile once more as you made a run for it. Jumping into the train car filled with stagnant air just before the doors sealed shut.
Anxiety running high, your hands were shaking but you still made yourself look out the window on the shut door. You caught a look at the woman as she leaped from the train, just getting to see her for a moment as she tumbled onto the train platform. She opened the doors with her bare fucking hands. What was she? Who was she? What did she want? Why did she know your name? How did she know where to find you?
The car shuddered as it picked up speed, you stumbling to the side. Side catching on the back of a stained seat as you struggled to keep upright as the train moved along. You dragged yourself into the seat, still shaking while you tried to process everything that just happened. Mostly what to do next. The wheels grumbling loudly on the old rails, grating horribly in your ears. You didn't know where this train went, how long it's circuit was. It wasn't like you could back to the familiar platform she could be waiting. Even angrier.
You'd have to get off at a random stop when you felt safe enough, miles away from your masked chaser. Then you'd be lost, feeling like you couldn't return to your normal platform. Having to try and find another route home, if there even was one. It was all too much. You needed to talk to somebody.
Noah.
Your (f/c) phone was ripped from your pocket, adorned in stickers of cutesy monsters and the iconic worm on a string. Fingers having to retype your pass code multiple times, too shaky to do it with a practiced ease like normal.
"Pick up, pick up, pick up." You chanted to yourself as you clicked on his name in your contacts list, wanting to hear something other than the rattling of the train car. Momentarily forgetting about your Bluetooth's with the mix of panic and fear running through your system.
"Hello?" His voice graced your right ear, confused and already worried.
You let out your stream of consciousness out into the rectangular device, "Someone just fucking chased me." You swallowed a thick lump in your throat that you were unaware that had formulated, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes.
"What?" You heard him ask, concern thick as you continued.
"She was wearing a mask and she was running so fast for someone in heels." You got caught on the pettier details before moving onto the more spine chilling ones, "Oh! She apparently knows my name, what I look like, and where I go to take public fucking transit! And she pried the doors open and she threw herself off the train and she-"
"Wait, wait, hold up. You need to slow down." Hands shaking, eyes watery, sweat formulating on your palms, ears filled with a grating noise, night uprooted, your brain had taken off too quickly, this was too much. "Take a deep breath." You kept on opening and closing your mouth, trying to tell him that you couldn't, "Come on, with me on the count of three." He may have been worried, horrified even if he didn't know what was going on but he was able to keep himself calm. He may have been a worry wart in less dramatic situations but when it came down to it, he'd always been good at calming you down when you got overwhelmed.
"One." You just had to trust him to help but there was still looming dread deep in your gut.
"Two." Even when you settled down you'd still be lost. Someone still chased you, someone still out there. What if she knew where you lived? Overthinking dangerously spiking, no signs of stopping.
"Three." Noah took an audible inhale, holding it in while you shakily copied him almost out of habit. The two of you stayed like that for a few seconds while you heard James quietly ask what was wrong. Then you heard the soft rushing of air from the speaker, and you let go of the breath heavy in your lungs. Closing your eyes and slightly relaxing into the seat. The both of you did that a few more times, your heart starting to slow back to its normal rate, what seemed like a booming screech of metal wheels seemed to become less attention grabbing.
Sniffling, wiping away stray tears, Noah asked, "Are you safe?"
Even though he couldn't see you, you nodded with a mumbled, "I think so."
"Where are you now?" He was trying to further ground you, help you find yourself so you could take the steps necessary to proceed. You looked around a moment before seeing a map behind smudged glass. It showed the train's route, other routes as well. You felt some of the weight in your gut lift seeing that this route would lead to a platform that would take you on a different train usual. The other line was a few stops away, you just had to wait a couple minutes before you transferred rides. It had the same stop as your normal commute, you could get home without running into that crazy ass again. If she approached you at the subway then that had to mean she didn't know where you went next, she didn't know where you lived. At least you hoped so.
"Route seven," You forced yourself to take another deep breath, "I think I can get home okay." Verbal reassurance for yourself and Noah. You rocked your heels back and forth on the shaking floor. Moving from a rambling mess to only speaking when spoken to. What a ride.
"Did you call the cops?" You didn't like the police as much as the next guy but when a masked person chases you down, it was a good idea to call the authorities.
"No." You didn't want to hang up or talk to somebody else. You wanted to file a complaint or whatever the hell you're supposed to do when hunted down in the subway but Noah was your rock. You felt that he could help you more than a nine-one-one operator.
SSSSSSKRREEECH!
You held onto your seat while Noah processed your short responses. The doors of the car hissing as they opened. "Okay," He spoke decisively as you heard a quiet, "James hon, can you call the cops? Hm?"
THUNK.
You paid no mind to the shudder of the car, just a footstep of another passenger. You didn't want to occupy yourself with them. You just wanted to listen to Noah talk, intently listening to James as he asked a few questions.
THUNK.
"Yeah, the non emergency line. I think she's safe now." His words reaffirmed the fact that the woman couldn't get you here. There was no way. She may have been some sort of freak to pry the doors open but she was still a human, one in tall heels at that.
"I'm gonna head back to the apartment with James, alright?" The doors hissed as the sealed shut. "We'll be waiting for you when you get home." James may not have had his own living space but he had a shitty car that he delivered pizzas in, "Now, do you feel comfortable enough to try and reiterate what happened so we can tell the authorities?"
THUNK.
You couldn't help but look over at the end of the car toward the noise that send shudders through the car. It was supposed to be a glance at the heavy footfalls, check out the weirdly loud noise and then go back to talking to Noah once more. But you couldn't seem to look away.
The figure was clad in black and imposing, larger than any one person you'd ever seen, unnaturally tall. The phone in his hand looked pitifully minuscule as an eerily familiar voice barked at the silent figure. That wasn't the part that had your breath catching in your throat, it was another person in a mask. This time it was a vibrant blue, two ovals of pitch black piercing into you as he ducked under the threshold into the car you sat in.
“Stand clear of the closing doors please.”