She hated working.

The smell of bleach stained the floors at the shitty dollar store she worked at. The cold tiles squeaked underneath her leather boots as she swept. This was her life, every day spent being forced to exist quietly and work underneath someone else's success.

"(Y/N)! Someone's at your register!" Her coworker called. She wondered why it was 'her' register- maybe because her coworker was too lazy to ring them up themselves. She sighed, removing her earplug and dropping her broom. She walked in contempt towards her register, looking at her phone to turn off the music.

"How are you doing today?" She asked before she looked up at the customer. Her eyes locked with Brian's- before she could react, he responded. "I'm doing good. I'm actually missing something though, could you help me with it?" He asked, placing his hand on his chin as he leaned on the register.

"Well that's why I work here sir," she said with a smile. She glanced at her coworker, who had their headphones blasting as they moped. "What can I help you with?"
He hummed obnoxiously. "You happen to have.. tape? Or err uh- A tape?" He pulled down his face mask to reveal a smile. "Any kind of tape?" She asked cheerfully. She eyeballed the store swiftly for his companion. Nowhere.

"I think you know what kind." He replied, a sickening sweet tone that made her equally as uncomfortable as she was (shamefully) intrigued. "Sure. You can find the duct tape down aisle eleven, on the left side." She smiled cheekily and he raised an eyebrow at her.
"Thanks," he replied. She watched him as he walked off and she looked behind her through the glass. Tim waited outside, staring directly at her, his arms crossed.

Brian walked back up to her register and slammed down several items. Several bundles of rope, black trash bags, bleach, vinegar and duct tape. They stared at each other silently for a brief moment before he interrupted. "You gonna ring me up or keep checking me out?" She was glad she was wearing a mask because he would've most likely taken a sick delight in seeing her blush.

She rang him up and gave him his total. "I forgot. I would also like... a pack of your magnum condoms, please." She could see the dumb smirk on his face from behind his face mask and she glared at him. "Really?"
"Yes, really." He turned his head. "Don't believe me?"
"No, really. Are you serious right now?" She asked.
He sighed heavily, placing his gloved hands onto the register counter. "Do I need to talk to a manager around here or something to be served.." He grabbed her name tag. "Ms. (Y/N)?" She glared at her before turning around and grabbing a box out of the glass shelf they kept them locked in.

Finally he handed her the money and took his bag. "Keep the change, sweetheart." She glanced back at him with his mask down as he smiled at her before leaving the store. She counted through the money he'd given her, letting a small note fall.

"Return tape or cops get an anonymous tip"

She crumbled the note in her hand as she heard a car peel off loudly behind her through the glass, cussing to herself. She put the note in her pocket instead of throwing it away.

Why she kept the tape from them was something she'd been thinking about often. She did not trust them, let alone like them. She knew very well what they were capable of, but keeping the tape held her at an advantage. If they tried to hurt her, she'd always have that above their heads, followed by full descriptions of what they looked like and at the very least a car they drove. When Tim claimed they'd be able to help her find Sam, she brushed him off as soon as he said it. She didn't believe they wanted to help her in the slightest, no matter how genuine 'Masky' seemed at times. How his big brown eyes somehow effortlessly leaked empathy and compassion, how soft his touch was, how concerned he seemed.

Whenever she thought about how nice he seemed, the image of that person being beat to death came to mind.

Anxiety ate away at her as she tried to recall what she had done to Mrs. Bridges. She knew she'd broken into her house. Not technically, since she knew where the key was. She knew that she hid silently for however long as Ms. Bridges came back into the house. She knew she found a small t-shirt that looked like Sam's.

Suddenly the memory of the charcoal drawings came back to her, and it seemed almost insane that she'd seemingly forgotten. The bathroom walls were covered in those drawings. It felt like remembering a nightmare that was so vivid you don't understand how you could ever wipe your brain of it's stain.

She turned to grab her bag to retrieve her water bottle yet it was not in the place she left it. Frantically she searched for it behind the counter. Almost in tears, she yelled to her coworker several times before getting their attention. "What?" They asked with an attitude.
"My bag. Have you seen it?"
"Uhh.. it's not where you left it?" They asked in a smart tone.
"No. I haven't. Let me try that next," she said sarcastically.
"Check in the employee only area, where the elevator is. Maybe you left it there while you were grabbing the carts to stock." Finally, a smart idea from her very dull colleague.
"What would I do without you," she responded.
"Probably everything you're already doing?" They replied.

(Y/N) walked through the corridors to the backroom. Rolltainers full of different items for the store sat in stacks upon each other. "Goddamn," she muttered to herself as she looked through different boxes and shelves to try to see if she left it anywhere. She doubted it, but it didn't hurt to try and look. Could Brian have taken it on his way out? She groaned loudly to herself in that realization. How would she even be able to contact them if she wanted to give the fucking tape back anyways?

She pulled herself to her knees, feeling awfully lightheaded as she did so. The lights in the backroom shut off, one section after the other. "The fuck?" She mumbled. She tried to make her way to the exit in the dark, her box cutter in hand. "This better not be you fucking around," she said to whom she thought was her coworker. No response.

She felt a severe chill, one she grew to recognize. As she made her way back to the store, she froze in horror. She couldn't describe the fear that registered in her body when she saw the very tall, pale thing standing in front of her way out. She screamed at the top of her lungs, running to the emergency exit. She tripped the alarm, which she immediately knew would cause the police to be notified. Fuck the cops, her manager would be notified..

She ran outside into the parking lot, out of breath and still running. She shook violently as she paced in front of the store she was supposed to be working in. Her coworker came outside, arms crossed and headphones around their neck.

"Are you okay?" They asked. "I heard a scream. You set off the emergency exit alarm.." They stood silently with each other, until her coworker looked down. "Holy shit, did you piss yourself?"

She would rather leave now, be fired and unable for rehiring than have to explain to the cops- or anyone else for that matter- what made her piss herself in that store.

(Ps fuck u slendy u made y/n pee their pants)