𝐓𝐢𝐜𝐜𝐢 𝐓𝐨𝐛𝐲 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫: 𝐄𝐲𝐞𝐬 𝐎𝐟 𝐃𝐞𝐜𝐞𝐢𝐭

Dead In A Ditch

It's truly a shame what happened to Sally Williams at the hands of malpracticing doctors. No one ever believed her cries for help until it was too late.

Y/N received a late night call a couple nights ago from one of the head doctors who was the bearer of bad news. Horrible news. Y/N hasn't been this upset over anything in years. Around 10AM, Sally Williams was reported missing. How could she have left the confinement of the hospital? Authorities don't have an answer for that, it's like she disappeared into thin air. After two hours of vigorously scowling the perimeters surrounding the facility, her tiny body was discovered at 12:33PM. Mangled and nearly unrecognizable, only identified as the missing patient because of her hospital gown. Police don't even know how a human could do that to another. It was vicious.

If a perpetrator isn't discovered, they'll have the means to write it off as an accident or even suicide especially after her episode only weeks earlier. This whole thing seems very meditated.

Work tonight was too much for Y/N and she left early around 3AM, rushing home. It never fails to baffle her as to why she would be even asked to come in today. Everyone else around the hospital was acting as if this happens all the time. It doesn't and it shouldn't.

She felt like the only heartbroken one as she watched her colleagues scamper around all night, tending to patients. They didn't tend to Sally when she needed them. Sally was her little best friend and she made working here totally worth it.

Y/N blames herself. She felt like she could've done more. This sensation brings her back to her time spent as a psychologist at The Subordinate. She was too late to help Jeff and Toby but maybe if she wasn't, Toby wouldn't be enslaved to some beast in a forest right now.

The worst of it all was what Sally told Y/N the night before she died. She was checking in on her around 3AM and found the girl hysterically sobbing into her pillow. She came in and comforted the girl until she was calm enough to speak. She told Y/N that her friend doesn't like her. He wants her to go away and if she doesn't, Sally will get hurt and so will she. The doctor has never seen eyes hold such genuine terror before. She tried to coax Sally to sleep even through almost an hour of her begging and pleading for Y/N to go away, that he's angry. She can't help but feel like she's somewhat at fault.

Although, she did what she could; she told her colleagues about it. Even asked the guards to mind Sally constantly through the night. No one helped them. The doctors are nothing but arrogant cunts in lab coats, they don't listen to anyone. Not Y/N, not the patients. It's frustrating.

The drive back seemed like it stretched on for an eternity but she makes it home. Her keys jingle in the lock as she opens the door. She walks down the front hall and into the kitchen, halting in the doorway.

"Oh my God!" Y/N exclaims, clutching her chest in fright after seeing her unexpected visitor.

Jeff sits on a stool at her kitchen island, wearing his signature sadistic grin. He's leaning on his hand, elbow propping him up. In his tight fist is a sharp, blood splattered butcher's knife. His white sweater is also drenched in blood. The semi dried vital fluid is probably all over her house now. She begins to back away when she takes it all in. The knife is his clutch makes her uneasy. No matter how close these two get, Y/N can't imagine herself completely trusting Jeff. He's insane.

Jeff chuckles, "You look kinda hot when you're scared."

She rolls her eyes, shaking her head with a laugh. Her heart is still racing inside her ribcage. "Jeff, you can't come here and use my place as a hide out."

"But it's the perfect plan. What cop would ever expect to find me hiding in the home of my former doctor?"

He's got a point, it's highly unlikely. Especially since she changed her location after her previous hospital was closed down.

Y/N just shrugs him off, really too tired to talk to anyone. She sets down her light coat and purse on the countertop and sits in one of the stools across from Jeff. She drops her head in her hands with a frustrated sigh. Tears teeter on her lash-line, threatening to stream down her face.

"What's the matter, Doctor? Not fond of my company?"

"No," She wipes her eyes, "I'm sorry, I just. . . I think something bad is happening."

She explains the recent events to Jeff. Sally's death, strange occurances at the hospital, her awful sleep. She's been having nightmares and insomnia. She never experienced either until she stood face to face with Slenderman years ago. She's never been quite the same since. When she does manage to get a wink of sleep, it's disturbed by vivid images of death, gore, hatred and fear. A lot of them are about Toby.

It's really been affecting her mental health and her emotional responses are recalibrated, they don't fit the normal reactions of someone neurotypical. She's working it out in therapy but it's not doing a whole lot. Being awake for days on end is really start to fuck with her too. She's been awake for about 51 hours straight. The news about Sally totally destroyed her and she can't possibly relax with something heavy like that in her subconscious. She needs to be active to keep her mind off of it.

She feels a bit better now after telling Jeff, who listens carefully, nodding his head to each word she spoke. She can tell he's not much of a comforter as his responses are choppy but she knows he's trying. She doesn't care; she just needs someone to listen to her.

"You want to do a couple lines with me?" Jeff breaks the silence, his question hanging in the air while Y/N gapes at him. Jeff shows her a little baggy filled with snow.

"You seriously brought coke into my house?" He nods, nonchalantly. "God. . . I didn't know you did drugs like this, Jeff."

"It's not something I indulge in often but I've done worse." He smirks, eyes bulging as he continues with a laugh, "You don't wanna see me on heroine, Doctor."

"I'm sure I don't. But I've been clean for a long time so I'm going to have to reject your offer."

He slides the tiny plastic baggie in front of her, clearly insinuating she can keep it for if she ever wanted it.

She glares at it, weighing her options. She might as well take it, even if she's never going to do it. She puts it in her pocket. She's not going to use it.

Gloved hands cup themselves against the glass of the window in the kitchen, the man straining to get a better view of the scene. He watches the two chatter, muffled voices discussing something he doesn't quite catch. Toby feels peculiar rage coursing through his blood stream.