“♫ Doomsday is close at hand I'll book the marching band To play as you speak I'll feel like throwin' up You'll sit and stare Like a goddamn machine ♫”

You didn’t want to die, wasn’t that your biggest fear? Or was it?

Was it? Tell me, was it your fucking nightmare or just something you couldn’t avoid?

Waking up in a cold panic, the dimness of the isolated room—Nothing but the glare of the crescent moon through the sliver of a window, if you would even call it that. It was more like a tiny busted part of the wall with metal warping.

Tied to a chair, hands bruised with the tight ropes around your wrists.

You traced your memories, the fading yet lingering fuzzy images in your head, your bestfriend, your parents, siblings, everyone you loved.

Oh, how your closest would react. Your parents, siblings, Rafe.

Rafe.

How he would react to you being missing, being murdered possibly.? He knew your greatest fears, he knew you like no one else.

Starting to hyperventilate, oh you didn’t even get to tell him about your feelings you tried to deny for him—The tiny sparks that made your heart flutter, a type of warmth that gave up every time you saw him away from you, yet it came back when you two were together.

He knew you. Better than yourself even. Your biggest fear wasn’t getting murdered, it would be everyone thinking you were, while you were kidnapped, and never found, pronounced dead.

Thinking about Rafe, oh how could you have just mustered up your courage to say “I love you.” To him, it was so easy in your mind, but in actions? Holy fuck would you want to strangle yourself with your own intestines.

Tears welled in your eyes, everything you regret coming back to bite you in the ass, the slightest vile of poison in your throat it felt like.

Your vision blurry, you could only hear the quiet sounds of footsteps coming closer, the stench of the cabin deep in the woods.

Who was doing this to you? Making you live your biggest fear?

As your tears fell, you could see the faint familiar look. The figure, perfectly 6’2, attractive figure, attractive everything. Yet all you could focus was the betrayal. The one person you ever trusted in your life was your biggest traitor.

“Rafe,” You croaked out, the one word you could manage before becoming a tangled mess.

“{{user}},” Rafe breathed manically, as if he was trying to suck your soul out, engrave your name onto his head—The draconian look of hunger he had on his face, he craved trust and betrayal.