Side Note, Toby is said to be 5'8 by the age of 25 and that's gonna be the age I'm putting him at. And just for fun, Masky will be 6' and Brain will be 6'2. Just saying, it was creepy af trying to find the actors' heights (there's no info for it btw) but the websites that have their info were getting too personal with it lmao
———————————————

I just want to be yours, loved only by you. I can't fucking breathe when I'm around you. You can hurt me, manipulate me, fucking break me, ruin me. Just give me your heart so I never have to worry again.

The world spun all around as her eyes fluttered open to the dark space in the dimly lit room. Litten only by a small red light on the opposite wall next to a door. The smell was horrible- like the smell of a rotting body that had been there for far too long. Perhaps more than one body, too.

The air was cold and stung on her bare flesh, a familiar feeling from all those years ago. She remembers Martha locking her in the car on a cold winter day to take Mateo ice skating, and how the cold stung her like this. Martha died in jail for what she did to little Y/N by the other prisoners; mothers who would do anything to see their child or stepchild again. And these mothers didn't like meeting a woman so cruel to her stepdaughter that she'd lock Y/N in the car on hot summer days until she couldn't breathe anymore.

What drives a woman to do that? It's no wonder Y/N always gets hot and nervous in a vehicle with a heavy heart each time. A fear of cars is something she may never get over.

Sometimes Y/N swore she could see her mother in this room. Sometimes, I say, as if she hadn't been awake for only 5 minutes. Disillusioned and staring into space, flashing images of once was or can be popping in and out. Five minutes felt like forever for some reason. She was so cold in nothing but her undergarments; although the thought of where her clothes were never registered in her mind.

Chloroform doesn't knock people out that fast unless it's laced. Whatever they used would remind her of how she felt after surgery when the anesthesia was wearing off. When she had surgery after trying to cut her arm off and nearly dying. Why did she do that again?

"Good morning, woo," a masculine voice called out, followed by a random noise. A tic.

When did the large shadowed man lean in front of her? The room was too dark to see his face, but she could see his silhouette from the light shining behind him.

"Good morning," her weak sound whispered back. "Where am I?"

"Somewhere nice, little Y/N, woo," his voice ticed once more, "a nice little place of business. And me and you are gonna talk."

"Oh, I'm not in the force yet," Y/N smiled softly, cocking her head at the man as he chuckled. "You'll have to talk with my brother about police business."

"No silly, not about that. No... We have something more personal to talk about later," he said kindly. "For now, I just wanna look at your beautiful face. You look so peaceful when you're sleeping."

"Hehe, how sweet," she softly replied, not registering what he even said in her mind. She heard him say something else- although, her tiredness made it hard to pay attention and keep her eyes open.

"Not a thought going through your head- woo- then, and not a single damn thought now. That's okay. Enjoy your high while you can, pretty girl."

By the time her eyes looked back up at the man, he was gone. But she didn't feel his presence leave.

...

The back of her mind began to finally recognize the world around her. That she had slept enough for the day, that she wasn't in her bed, and that she was hungry. Her mind trailed back to the thought of kissing her date the previous night, forcing a weak smile on her tired face as her head tilted to the side of the table she was lying on.

"Mmm," she silently whimpered as her eyes registered the giant light looming above her, too bright to handle in a drugged state. Slowly observing the dark room, her mind was finally putting the pieces together of what was happening. What was happening...

"What the fuck..." Y/N grumbled as she lifted her head from the table, before halting when her shoulder muscles couldn't move her forward. On top of that, she was barely clothed. Her breathing quickened alongside the beating of her heart as she looked around the dark room, slowly recalling the previous night's events. Tim was taking her home, and then... then these two people came in, but one of them had Tim's hair and build so-

"Tim! Tim you fucking asshole, where are you!" She screamed out, adrenaline filling her veins as she pulled against what was holding down her limbs. Ropes tied against her wrists made her wince in pain as she pulled; her arms were held above her head and tied against the legs of the table. Her legs were in the same state, tied against the table legs.

Her muscles fucking ached in pain after constant minutes of pulling and tugging at the ropes combined with heavy breathing. It just hurt so much more on the inside too because she was really starting to like that guy. The feelings of fear, betrayal, and rage burning into her skin more than the tightening ropes didn't even hurt as much as the thought of what her brother must be thinking.

She was feeling far too mature to tell her brother where she was going to be. Fucking idiot mistake.

Y/N firmly placed her head against the table, overcome by the feeling of helplessness. She didn't even notice the tears rolling down her face until now. Nor the light sweat that built up from when she was struggling, combined with the humidity of the room. Wasn't she cold earlier? Why does she recall a different room? And why did she recall the voice that said-

-"woo, the first ten minutes are always my favorite. You see all five stages of grief in one sitting, hah hah."

Her head turned to where she heard the voice, although her vision was too blurry to see the face of the man who just walked out of the shadows as if it were a 1940s horror film. "You," she whispered, blinking away the tears the best she could, "who are you?"

"Shouldn't I be asking the questions first?" He replied smugly as he walked over to the table, leaning over her. He brought his head uncomfortably close to her face, narrowing his eyes as he took in her look of pure horror.

He looked young, perhaps in his early 20s. Large orange goggles around his eyes and a mask pulled down to his chin, revealing his cocky grin and a giant hole on his cheek. Her eyes quickly went to stare at his teeth and flesh from the hole, making her shiver and grow uncomfortable. It reminded her of the uncomfortability of being nearly naked. Did he take off her clothes?

"That's what I thought. Now, we got some things to talk about, pretty girl," he chuckled maliciously as he brought a hand to her face, caressing her cheek and watching as she contemplated what to do. He knew what she was thinking: should I pull away from his hand, or will he get mad? What if he hurts me? Oh, but I just don't wanna be touched by this scary man, but what could I do when I'm so helpless?

It made his grin grow wider as he pulled away, reaching for his pocket and pulling out her wallet. She gasped as she noticed it. "Why do you have that?"

"Well, woo, if you wait a minute, I'm about to get to that." His hand twitched as he unzipped her wallet and looked through the many cards and hundreds of dollar bills she had stashed in there. "Are you Mr Ismael Ramirez? Or a Mrs. Jamie Burningham? Oh, or a lovely Danielle Iowa? Because, sweetie, you don't look like any of these people, woo."

Y/N's heart fucking dropped. She quietly gulped, feeling her palms get sweaty and the room seemed to be a little warmer. "I... I don't-"

"Yeah, didn't think so. And I don't think they could've given you their cards after they died either, huh? I know that Danielle almost escaped me, but I think a hatchet in the heart then proceeding to rip her open a little more should keep her too dead to pay you, right?"

Danielle Iowa was the daughter of the family she saw two nights ago when her brother called her in for help. She was in her room on her back, bruises on her arms and a giant open hole in her chest.

Y/N's eyes widened as stuttering out slowly, "You killed them?" Her body started to shake, her chest heaving as her mind wandered to what he could do to her if he had the stomach to do other awful things to people.

"Oh, come on now, don't look so scared!" the man laughed with a hint of annoyance, "you're no fucking better! You also have exactly $853 in here, exactly as much as- woo- she had in her little jar in the room. How are you any better than a killer if you're gonna steal money from the dead right next to their bleeding fucking corpses?"

Sins in the form of goosebumps trailed up her skin all over, her head turning away from him as an escape from the situation. She felt embarrassed, weak, and most of all, guilty. Fucking guilty.

"Yeah, and that's the first time you're facing it, huh? Didn't feel so bad earlier, right, when you went out and bought that coffee? Or when you went- woo- out shopping the night before? Why does it feel so dirty now, Y/N?" The man laughed, setting his knee on the table to lift himself up and set his arms on either side of her. He looked down at her, grabbing her chin and forcing her to look back at him from above.

"But hey, 'ion gotta kill ya for your sins. I ain't the devil or God. But I will make you work for your freedom."

His neck snapped as he smiled down at her, ticking once more. Naturally, him being on top of her while she was barely clothed made her worry about what he could mean- what he was going to do to her. Rape her? Torture her like this was a Saw movie? Sell her into slavery?

"I-Is that so," she said in a low voice, a shaky breath following.

He hummed in response, chuckling to himself. "If you wanna live and keep all your dirty money, well, I recommend you give me what info you got about the police force. Otherwise," he paused as his neck snapped following a tic. A sudden cold metal pressed against her bare stomach, making her shudder. "I can cut you open for Mateo to see, pretty lady. And that cute little look of fear on your face would look so fucking ugly when it gets skinned off, right?"

"Yeah, yeah," Y/N agreed, nodding her head with a quivering lip. "Or-"

"Or?" The man widened his eyes with mild shock, cocking his head as he placed the hatchet a little more firmly against her stomach, causing Y/N to suck in a little.

"Or, you let me willfully help you with all the data I can provide, and then some, in return for help," she said softly, a small smile appearing on her face as if her fear had just vanished.

"Woah, woo," he chuckled, his grin growing large on his face as he pulled away. He pressed his hatchet even harder against her skin, causing her breath to hitch. "I have never seen that before. I'mma have to let the other guys know about this, hah hah."

He got off of her and stepped back down onto the floor, sticking his hatchet back into his little holder.

"Wait, so, what's this "and then some" thing supposed to mean? And what makes ya think that whatever you can provide is worthy of not just your life, but also something more in return?" he asked rather threateningly as if he was annoyed. No, pissed off.

"You know, I'm not just some dirty detective or thief," Y/N replied cautiously, furrowing her eyebrows. "You think I didn't notice all the girls looked like me? You think I didn't notice I could be next? What if I took extra steps in case something were to happen to me?"

"Attitude out of nowhere like ya have any power over the situation," he replied aggressively, rolling his eyes. He doesn't like it when things don't go his way. He swiftly grabbed his hatchet back out and set it on her stomach, before crouching down and reaching for the ropes tying one of her hands down. Anxiety pulsed through her veins but... she knew what she was doing.

The rope burns hurt her wrists as it got free, her hand feeling better from the return of circulation. The man placed her arm down the table forcefully, holding it down as he grabbed his hatchet again, placing the blade on her fingers. Instinctively, she gasped and tensed.

"Okay, here's the deal," he said before ticcing, "you're gonna give me a good counterdeal that's just so much better than mine. And if you don't, I'm cutting these off one by one. Got it? Or do you wanna just take my deal instead?"

Y/N quivered, narrowing her eyes at him before taking a deep breath. "Okay, listen... I could do two things. I won't ever give you the police info if all I get is life and dirty money, and whatever happens to my brother. So you'd have to kill me and be left struggling to get the info yourself. And, let me promise you, it's not easy."

She took a quivering breath as the weight of the man's eyes caused more anxiety to trail through her.

"However, I could also help you. Not just info given to you, but I can also lead the investigation in ways that would keep you and whoever you're working with safe. I know the ins and outs of everything that goes on there, and I've tampered with info before on cases. That's how I get away with stealing," she says hesitantly, guilt in her words.

"I could give you info computer bases don't have, I can steal, I can lie, and I'm very good at staying hidden. I know this might not seem like a lot, especially given that I don't know your plan, but I can tell these aren't your first murders or kidnappings. Surely having someone who can log into police bases across this country could be helpful to you, right?"

The man raised a brow, cracking his neck before huffing, "Yeah, yeah, so you can make things easier for me, I expected that. Coulda summed that up quickly, y'know. Now tell me what you wanted in return." He tapped his hatchet against her fingers impatiently.

"I want to come with you guys," she breathed out quickly, a look of desperation on her face. "I know you and whoever you work with have been across the country, possibly the world, and committed similar crimes. I've studied family murders that looked just like the ones here from other states- and I admire it! I would do anything to be a part of what you guys do."

She bit her lip in embarrassment, realizing how stupid she must sound right now. The silence that followed made her recap how she was tied up, nearly naked, with a serial killer threatening to cut off her fingers after threatening her with death. She then boldly decided to reject his offer and made her own, and now just asked to be a part of a killer group as if she was trying to join a Fanclub.

"Interesting," the man slowly replied awkwardly, squinting his eyes and cocking his head at her. "You're weird." His hatchet began to pierce the skin of her fingers, making her gasp and lift her head from the table defensively.

"Fuck, if you do that, you're gonna fucking regret it!" she yelled out, her hand shaking. The man chuckled, pausing as her fingers began to bleed.

"How come?" he asked amusingly.

"Tim has a tracker in his truck, connected with a camera and audio. It picked up anything that happened around it- and the data will be sent to my brother unless I stop the message in time." Sweat built up on her forehead from the extreme nervousness she felt. But damn, her reasoning worked.

"Ugh, you fucking would make this difficult," he huffed, sticking his hatchet back in his holder. He ticked, pulling his mask back up to his face before leaning into hers, caressing her cheek, and whispering, "You're pretty, but you're nothing special. I've seen plenty like you before, so don't think- woo- you got your way yet."

With that, he ripped his hand away from her face and grabbed her arm to tie her wrist back to where it was. A long, deep sigh escaped her lips as she closed her eyes, placing her head back against the table. He mumbled things under his breath as he finished up, walking out of the room. The noise she heard indicated that he opened a door and walked out- leaving her alone in the room.

What a fucking experience.