Chapter Text
Breathe. Breathe, in and out. Come on you have to breathe—
You pound on your chest, kick-starting yourself out of the loop you're in mentally. You heave a deep breath, near gasping. Coughing, hacking.
The air down here is musty, dry. It makes your throat burn worse and you have to scramble for water. You snatch a bottle, gulping it down greedily.
Another few deep breaths, and you're calm again.
You ran a hand through your hair. You're calm. You're fine, everything is okay. You're safe down here.
You have to be.
There's only one way in or out, and even then it's layers of security. And, and it's hidden, too! You made sure of it. No one will find you here, no one would even know to find you here.
You didn't tell a soul, you couldn't. It had to be just you alone, in your thoughts only. You couldn't risk it, couldn't risk him finding you.
But you've done it, you're completely alone down here, in this bunker, away from anything that could hurt you. And if this works, maybe... maybe one day it'll be safe to leave, and you can go back to a normal life finally.
You should've never picked up that CRT, it was the worst mistake of your entire life. All the trouble started from it, the nightmares, the horrors, the death. If you just hadn't been curious, hadn't been greedy, none of this would have happened.
No one would have gotten hurt, there'd be no blood on your hands. No guilt to live with for the rest of your life, to haunt you until the day you die—
But it was fine now. Everything was fine. You were safe, secure. No more voices, no more dreadful static, no more convincing, manipulating, lying—No you were free! Free as could be, down here... alone.
You lean back against the wall. You don't know what to do with yourself. Truthfully.
It would be about this time of day—you think it's daylight out—that you'd be watching TV. But that obviously wasn't an option. At all. Ever.
You hadn't even brought your phone with you, or your computer. Too risky. You weren't taking chances. All you had was the small storm radio. And even that you kept at the opposite side of this box room for comfort.
You brought books, but reading seemed too tedious for your racing mind. You had games, cards too. But it was a bit difficult to play anything on your own. Save for maybe solitaire that is.
And it was solitary here. It'd only been a day or so, and you were feeling it. So, incredibly lonely. Maddeningly so.
Maybe that's why you'd been so willing to accept him, his presence. It was a welcomed change. And he'd been so... friendly. At first.
Cheeky, teasing, tricky. It was fun to talk to him, to have someone to talk to. How were you supposed to know it had all just been an act?
It was stupid. Foolish on your part really. A trap that you'd so easily fallen for. Now you were in a trap of your own making.
At least the bed was comfy.
You lay back on it, closing your eyes with a sigh. Maybe rest would make you less on edge, and not so bored.
You're only able to lay there for a few moments however, before your ears pick up on a sound.
Crackling.
The radio.
Your eyes snap open.
You sit up quickly scrambling over to the radio as an all-too familiar voice begins to come through.
"If you're getting bored in your little hiding place, I have the perfect recommendation for how to pass the time, doll."
Before he can say more you smash the electronic to bits. Over and over into the concrete floor until nothing remains. You feel tears of frustration, of fear, building in your eyes.
You're sobbing after a moment, curling up into a ball, hands clinging to your knees. You rock back and forth in an attempt to soothe yourself, muttering quietly.
You calm down after a few minutes of silent sniffling. Sitting up as you wipe your eyes. You take a deep breath. It's fine. It's okay. You're okay.
"We're well past the point of something like that being effective, darling. But it was a good try!" A cold at your back, seeping in, chilling you to the bone.
A hand on your shoulder, and not even a second later, it's around your throat.
You claw at it, fight and thrash, kick your feet, but it's no use. Any noises of protest you make are shushed, another hand coming to rest on your heaving chest. It stays there a moment, then dives in, into you, deep.
Again you try to protest, again you're hushed.
"Easy now. You should consider this a blessing you know. I'm not usually this kind." Grabbing something, squeezing. "But you're the first one to try something like this, so I suppose you can say it amused me. And the audience too, for that matter, and they're a hard bunch to entertain."
Leaving you, taking whatever he's got a hold of with him. You feel... hollow.
A sigh. "I almost feel bad for you, you know? No one's going to find you here, this is your grave site. Guess it's a good thing you already dug it out yourself."
You can't respond, even with the hand at your throat missing. You lack the strength, the ability, and you feel yourself fading fast. All that work, that paranoia, that terror, all of it for naught.
You suppose... It's not so bad. At the very least...
At least you're not alone.