INTO THE WOODS (Masky x reader x Hoodie)

CHAPTER 30

Holding the light green box up, she stared at it for a good second, then went back to shaking it. Another second of silence went by as she tilted her head, then slamming the box down into the ground. She heard a defining crack, and then lifted it up again, to see a large crack going through the wood. She threw it down into the ground once more, and then another time, with each time she slammed it, the more sure she was it was going to open.

Finally, the wood split into hundreds of pieces as the items of the box spilled onto the floorboards. She got on her knees to examine, but what she was chilled her. She felt more violated than confused, as it was almost alarming clear what went on.

There were pictures.

Pictures of children.

She covered her mouth as she began to skim through the Polaroid pictures, ones that were black and white to begin with. There were several stacks of them, all put together with rubber bands.

But what she saw next... set her moral violation into confusion.

The first stack she picked up seemed to feel as old as time. When she picked it up, she could feel the cathartic message that came with it. She began to untangle the rubber bands as she flipped to the first picture.

A group, about 15-20 children, all black and poorly dressed, smiling into the camera. Some of them looked badly deformed, near starved, beaten- but they all had these smiles on their faces. Not smiles that seemed forced, genuine, sincere smiles. As if someone had lifted their spirits. She turned the picture around and read the year written in black ink. 1703.

Her jaw near fell to the floor. Could this be- no- how could it be? It was too insane to even comprehend, a Polaroid camera couldn't even possibly be around at those times!
The next picture were close ups of the children in the forest, eating around a large fire. In other pictures, they held hands and danced, did each other's hair, swam. Honestly, it looked like they were enjoying themselves, but who was responsible for all of these things?

The next round of kids were Native Americans, the pictures consisting of the same features of the last round. They were all in the forest, by a huge fire, smiling. Laughing. Singing.

These kids couldn't be anywhere younger than 14, maybe 15. They were all skinny, looking well torn and beat up, lived their pasts in dark times. The year read 1467.

The next round of pictures were children of all sorts of colours, but all looking very beat up and mistreated. These pictures went on, and on, and on. She wanted to take some for herself, but, apart of which made her feel wrong.

She skimmed through the pictures slowly, mesmerized. Going through at least the 5th batch of pictures, she felt the tip of a cold gun at the back of her head.

"Drop the fucking pictures, and give me your name," a cold, masculine voice rang out. One sounding like one of a middle aged man.
"(Y/N), (Y/N) (L/N)," she gave, taking a deep breath. "Take the gun away, and let's talk, please," she practically begged in a rather polite matter.
"I've heard a few things about you," he inquired, ignoring her plea. "I didn't believe the rumors of a newcomer, but, here you are," he said in a stifled, humorless laugh.
"Who are you?" She asked. She was pretty sure she'd never met this man before, but somehow, he knew about her.
"Oh, me? I'm just an old man, no one special," he said with an undignified, sarcastic tone. "Jordan Wright, maybe the last name rings a bell." Realization flooded into her as her jaw tightened, closing her eyes. Wright.
"Like... Tim Wright," She said, piecing it together.
"See, smart. Glad I didn't have to explain myself."
"You're his.." she gulped, giving out a dry laugh. "What a bad way to meet the father." Jordan laughed, a genuine laugh, maybe a little too loud.
"Funny, too! Isn't this nice, never thought I'd get to meet my son's girl. Nevertheless, thought he'd get one.. or have to "share" one, either."
He gave a huff of something she couldn't quite put her mind to. "Now that we got that out of the way, do you mind.."
"Oh, I must be scaring you, sweetheart." He pulled the gun away and apologized, tucking it into his back pocket. She got up quickly, but then was soon confronted by a man, much taller than her, and shared similar features to her boyfriend. Obviously, though- it's his dad.
His hair was black, like his son's, but it was going grey. He had the wild, untamed, sideburns and the black eyes, yet wider than Tim's. The bags under his eyes were much darker than his sons, but easily comparable. He looked stunningly like Tim, which made her miss him and Brian even more.
He put out his hand, bruised and cut up with time, as she put out hers to shake his. He gave an unusual smile, carrying a charm that Tim seemed to have on occasion. She smiled back, feeling odd. It was weird to be around him. She never thought she'd meet him, let alone in this place.

"So, you found those things? Yeah," he said, nodding. His face contorted into confusion as he stared into the smashed pieces of the light green box. "I find you're not one for problem solving,"
"Well, I think outside of the box," she said, followed by a laugh.
"I see what you did there, making dad jokes and shit. That's my role, but whatever. We should probably get going, though, they're starting to come out soon."
"Uhmm.. 'they'?" She asked. "Aren't you one of them?.."
"Everyone here is trying to kill you! I'm an ally, and I've been here much longer than these chumps.. trust me." She nodded as he began to head out of the cabin, but paused. "Did you get the gun?" He asked.
"Uhh.. the gun?" He sighed.
"Yes, (L/N)! The gun." She tilted her head as he spun around, marching over to the wooden floorboards, his charisma practically carrying him. He hummed as he began to happily, yet violently pull out the floorboards, until he found a metal case.
He punched in the numbers, then pulled the top off of the box. He handed her an old looking pistol, and tilted his head. "You know how to shoot a gun, right? Tim should've taught you at least that."
She nodded, holding the gun in her hand. "I guess?" she said. He nodded his head.
"Good. That'll save us a lot more time."

"H-hey, Uh, can I ask you something?" She asked.
"I mean, you just did, but go ahead with the questions. I bet you have a lot, anyways."
"How long have you been here for?" She asked. He stopped his movement and tilted his head to the side, trying to recall.
"How old is Tim?"
"23," she responded.
"So.. I guess... Wow. About 14 years." Her eyes lowered as he let out an abnormal laugh, tossing his shoulders up. "Oh well! I've swallowed the fact I will never leave here, and I make no attempts on trying to leave anymore. It's not worth it."
"W-what?" She asked. "There's really no way out of here?"
He looked at her and sighed, placing a hand on her small shoulder. "Listen, kid, when you've been around as long as I have, it's not as bad. I mean, for you, that's a different story. You're connected to a bunch of people here, some who really really REALLY want you dead, too. But uhh... think of it as a family! A family with many issues, and struggles, and a very controlling, abusive, ugly, no faced, heartless, pale ass, shit eating motherfucker with a tie as a dad! Haha!" His eyes widened and twitched. She nodded, weary of the dreaded motherfucker before her.
"I got a question, though," he said, pushing back to reality.

"How is my son?"

-------

Brian drove his fist into the dry wall of the basement to Rasheed's house, watching the pieces of wall fall and stain his fists white.

It had been a whole three days since she'd left him and Tim. Papers with no good ideas scattered the floors as he fell to his knees slowly, tears streaming down his face as he sobbed into his hands. She took his heart when she was stolen that day, including his hoodie, which he was low-key pissed off about. He missed teasing her, sleeping next to her, messing with her while Tim tagged along. The three were perfect together. He didn't like Tim the way he liked (Y/N), and Tim felt the same way, but they both love her.
he wished he stayed with her the day she was whisked away. He can't stand even being around Tim at this point. He's either crying, ignoring everyone, or just completely depleted of emotion, which pissed his off even further. Rasheed went out to his old Rez to talk to his family about some ritual, or some shit. He prayed in a Godless world that something would come through. He felt the hand of CJ grab his shoulder, attempting to comfort him.
"Look, we're going to find her. Trust me. Just let it out, man."

Rasheed stormed into the house, ran down the basement steps, out of breath. Following him was an old woman, who looked a lot like him.

"I told you, I wasn't lying!"