Dawn Chorus (Proxies x Reader)

Bad Things Come in Threes

My feet are dragging, heavy, scraping leaves and soil. I'm leaving troughs, trails trying to keep moving at this pace. I let myself slow to lift my legs a little higher. Right, the missing thing. I let my pace drop to a light jog, steady my breathing. Pace myself for another sprint.

Despite the lack of underbrush, I can't see far in the forest. The trees are wide and dense. This far in the canopy has knitted into a light suffocating layer starving out anything that dare try to grow beneath. Instead of the silvery blue of intense moonlight, the world is grey and inky. Outlines, pitches in the dark keep me from slamming into trees and dumb luck keep me from snagging my foot on a root. I strain my ears, not bothering to waste the energy on my eyes.

The forest is that uncomfortable degree of silent again. Not just a lack of sound but like the air will swallow any noise that is made. There is a pressure to it. Its heavy on my shoulders and against my chest, a little hard to breathe. I feel like I should be moving through a thick mist where the air is too moist and hurts. The wrongness of it churns my stomach and chills my veins. I spin slowly, listen and look, try to decipher the missing piece. My pace has further slowed. I'm walking now, circling, tuning in.

A smell reaches my nose and the churning in my stomach pitches upwards into my throat. Metallic and sour and so heavy that even a pleasant scent would be nauseating. Like the air has been steeped in it. Then I hear it, soft whimpering, pleads that are garbled and weak. It's muffled like a sock is stuffed in the speaker's mouth. I doubt it. I think it's the air taking about the noise but not the odor. The voice is feminine and quivering. I follow it and the thick of the smell. I shouldn't. It's my responsibility. I told Sadie....but I told her and Camilla...

There is a scream. It should be shrill, loud, throat tearingly loud and all I can hear is a trill, like a distressed bird. I can feel the disturbance, see the glint of the weapon in the air, as dull as it is, watch the splatter of blood. There are still heaving, trembling breaths, sobs too quiet and too loud all at once. Before I can think, I can't. I can't see or hear, can barely feel my legs moving. A stupid burst of bravery.

A stupid burst of bravery that breaks as an arm, hard as steel wraps around my shoulders, jerking me to a stop and yanking me back against a solid chest. I missed it. I missed a lot. Missed too much. His breath is warm at that space a little behind my ear and a little too high to be considered on my neck, but his mask is cold where it digs into my shoulder.

"You shouldn't interrupt," he whispers.

A chill travels down my spine. My legs lock, body grows heavy. The fear is heavy, spinning and swelling in my head as my body refuses to react, even if I wasn't restrained. My eyes dart left and right, try to make shapes out in the dark. The people are pleading, squealing now and it echoes through my head. I spot the orange, faint and dark in the limited light but there, standing a short distance away and staring rather intensely at me. Breathing is becoming difficult. My chest and throat are tight. The pleading turns to screams again and I recoil into the man who is restraining me. His chest rumbles with his chuckles and his grip tightens, bruising my skin.

"Don't worry, he'll be done soon," he speaks softly. "This our little disturbance?" He talks louder, still right next to my ear.

It hurts, echoing in my ear canal. I try to recoil, but I can't. Disturbance? I try to glance to the man with the orange hood, but as promised the screaming stops and a heavy thunk demands my attention. I jump. I almost jump. I don't have the space.

"What? Are you guys kee-kee-keeping..." There is a pause and a violent cracking as the shadow before me jerks. "keeping one?" He finishes speaking.

"The disturbance." The one behind me says gruffly.