femme!reader x Laughing Jack : Phobia Chapter 4 I was out of breath ; sweat streamed from my temples in furious waves and my spleen was at the verge of going on a strike, but those minutes were just mere fantasies at the time and I couldn't afford it. Liz was still nowhere to be found... same thing for her assailant. Suddenly, I tripped fell face first to the old afghan in a muffled thud. 'What a strange way to impose myself a nap!' I though. Waiting a bit, I assumed that I would' be of no use weary and out of breath, so I decided to say here just a bit... to allow my breathing to regain its steady pace and get rid of that damn stitch. I already had searched through two of the scene's adjacents floors, I even went back, somewhat reluctantly, to the room I found... spider-boy in. I then decided to inspect beneath the stage, but nothing ; not a soul in there. I sighted heavily, a scream erupted. This helpless cry was soon to be followed by the singular sound of coughing fits.
-"Y/N!!!" the high-pitched
She Stitched Together Her Head AgainShe stitched together her head again. It was marvelous really to be there. The spider’s came down from the drapes, and plumed their webs to her eye lashes, and she bit her lip and sighed, by the morning she was right as rain, sleeping quietly in her favorite chair with a needle and some thread in her hands. Sometimes she whistled in the house. She’d stand under an archway and whistle a new tune, while eyeing the oil lamps from far away. The light of their fire might reflect eyelessly across her face, which was shadow like most of the time. When the days of October had come around the bend, she might almost disappear. Dilapidation would shadow the quiet of the house, and if it rained, and the thunder and lightning came, she would whisper the number of stitches that she had spent the time of her day or night, in that year to place, in one way or other about the old house. It had a strange sort of warmth about it, the house, as though the strange creature that inhabited it