(A/N: This is 4k word long lmao)
TW; Kidnapping and violence

The voice from the void chuckled, the sound deep and resonant, vibrating through the very fabric of your dreamscape. You couldn't see it yet, but you felt it, a presence lurking just out of sight, something ancient and powerful. It wasn't Harold; you knew that instantly. This voice lacked the playful malice of the void creature you had encountered before.

"I see you're confused," it whispered, the words curling around your mind like smoke. "But don't worry, Harold isn't here this time. No, I am something... else."

You blinked, trying to steady your breathing, and in that moment, the dreamscape shifted. Shadows twisted and congealed before you, forming a figure that stood tall and ominous. It looked like harold, but...not really. It loomed over you, somehow expressive, its presence demanding attention.

"I am IT," the voice declared, as if the name alone held significance, reverberating with a power that made the air feel thick and heavy.

You stared up at IT, feeling a prickle of unease at the back of your neck. But something was different this time. The fear that had gripped you when Harold first appeared wasn't there. Maybe it was the exhaustion, maybe it was the sheer absurdity of everything that had happened lately, but instead of cowering, you found yourself getting angry. You'd dealt with Dr. Darling, with Solaria, with the strange and the unsettling so much lately that this... whatever it was, felt like just another annoyance.

"Really? This shit again?" scowling up at the figure. "I've already dealt with Sir darling, and Solaria, and Harold's and everything else's fuckery. I'm not in the mood for more."

IT tilted its head-or what you assumed was its head-down at you, seemingly intrigued by your defiance. "Interesting... Most would be trembling in fear by now."

"shut up," you snapped, squaring your shoulders even though this thing was towering over you. "You've got me in my dreamscape, right? So what? What's the big plan here? Scare me into submission? Because that's not happening."

The creature laughed again, a low, rumbling sound that made the ground beneath you vibrate. It was a laugh devoid of humor, as if it found the situation amusing in a detached, almost clinical way.

"Bold of you to speak to me like this," IT mused. "Especially when you don't even know what I am capable of. But I suppose that is why they call you 'the reader.' So stubborn, so insistent on knowing everything, on pushing boundaries. It's both amusing and... frustrating."

You frowned, something in its words catching your attention. "What the hell is with that title? Why do all of you keep calling me 'reader' like it's some kind of... I don't know, designation?"

IT seemed to smile, a slit of a mouth that you could see. The shadows around its form rippled, as if reacting to your question. "Because that is what you are. A reader of stories, of worlds, of realities. You consume, you observe, and in doing so, you shape the narrative. But you also... endure. We call you 'reader' because you are a part of this... cycle. You are the one who witnesses, who feels the pain, the joy, the sorrow. You are the one who lives through it, over and over."

You shook your head, trying to make sense of what IT was saying. "That doesn't make any sense. I'm just... me."

"Are you so sure?" IT asked, its voice softer now, more insidious. "Isn't that what life is? A series of stories, each one interconnected, each one influencing the other? You are more than just a participant. You are essential. And that makes you... a reader."

You cursed under your breath, rubbing your temples as you tried to process this bizarre explanation. "Great. Just great. So now I'm stuck in some weird existential nightmare with a creature that has an identity crisis."

IT loomed closer, its presence becoming more oppressive. "Do not mistake this for a simple nightmare. I am real, and so is the power I hold here. You may have dealt with other creatures, but I am beyond them. Beyond Harold, beyond more, beyond anything you've encountered. And you... are in my domain now."

You met IT's gaze-or at least where you thought its gaze would be-and didn't back down. "And? What exactly are you going to do with me? I'm already dealing with enough weird shit as it is. You think you're the scariest thing I've faced? Get in line."

For a moment, IT was silent, and you wondered if you'd somehow managed to offend it. But then it spoke again, its voice darker, more intense. "You are arrogant, but that will not save you. You may think you are strong, but everyone has a breaking point. And I... will find yours."

You shivered involuntarily, but still, you didn't back down.

IT leaned in closer, so close you could feel the cold emanating from its form. "We shall see, reader. We shall see."

As you stood in the dark void of your dreamscape, the realization hit you-a reader, a mere observer in this strange narrative. It was absurd, ridiculous even. And yet, the more you thought about it, the more a wicked grin spread across your face. If you were just the reader, then IT, with all its ominous power and dark whispers, wasn't even the protagonist. It was just another entity in a story, something you could cast aside, something that, in the grand scheme of things, might not be that important at all.

If it was the truth

A daring thought crossed your mind, and before you could stop yourself, you spat it out. "If I'm the reader, then you're just background noise. Not even the main event. Just... filler."

The air around you froze, as if time itself had stopped. IT, which had been lurking at the edges of your vision, suddenly surged forward, its form solidifying into something more menacing. The darkness coiled around you, tightening like a vice, cold and suffocating. IT's presence was overwhelming, its anger strong, and you could feel it in the way the shadows pressed down on you.

"You dare?" IT hissed, its voice vibrating with fury. "You think you're above me? You think I'm... unimportant?"

Before you could react, IT wrapped around you completely, engulfing you in a suffocating embrace of darkness. You struggled, but it was no use-IT was too powerful, too overwhelming. And then, as if to mock you, IT laughed, a deep, echoing sound that sent shivers down your spine. It was a laugh filled with malice, a promise of pain to come.

"You think you're safe, reader?" IT's voice was right by your ear now, the words dripping with menace. "You think you can dismiss me? You have no idea what kind of danger you're in."

Before you could respond, a cold, wet sensation dragged across your cheek-IT's tongue, leaving a trail of icy dread in its wake. "You're in danger, reader," IT whispered, the words sending a jolt of fear through your body. "And it's not just me you need to worry about."

With that, the dreamscape shattered, and you woke up with a start, your heart pounding in your chest. But before you could even process what had happened, you realized something was wrong. There were figures looming over you, three shadowy forms standing by your bed.

You barely had time to flinch before one of them lashed out, a fist connecting squarely with your face. The impact sent you reeling, pain exploding across your vision as you fell back against the bed. The room spun, and for a moment, everything was a blur of confusion.

You struggled to focus, your mind racing to catch up with what was happening. The three figures stood over you, their faces obscured by the darkness, but you could feel the threat hanging in the air. Whoever they were, they weren't here to talk.

"Get up," one of them growled, the voice rough and filled with malice. "We've got a lot to discuss."

Your heart raced as you forced yourself to sit up, blood trickling from your lip where you'd been punched. This was real-- this was happening. And whatever IT had warned you about, it seemed like the danger was far more immediate than you'd realized.

Panic surged through you as a bag was forced over your head, plunging you into suffocating darkness. You fought back, thrashing against the hands that grabbed at you, but they were too many. The smell of stale fabric filled your nose, and you could feel your breaths coming in shallow, desperate gasps.

"Let me go!" you shouted, your voice muffled by the bag. You struggled harder, but then a voice cut in, cold and calculated.

"Keep fighting, and we'll do worse than just knock you out. What about your friend? Poor, tired guy... you wouldn't want anything to happen to him, would you?"

The mention of Solaria stopped you cold. Fatigue-ridden and already dealing with more than enough, Solaria was in no state to defend himself if these people went after him. Your heart pounded in your chest as you weighed your options, fear clawing at the edges of your mind. They had you trapped, and they knew exactly how to make you comply.

With a heavy heart, you stopped struggling, your hands trembling as you dropped them to your sides. "Where's Walden?" you demanded, your voice trembling despite your efforts to stay calm. "What have you done with him?"

But they didn't answer. Instead, you felt the cold bite of rope as they bound your wrists, tying them tightly behind your back. The bindings were rough, chafing against your skin, but you didn't resist.

You tried to listen for any clues- footsteps, voices, anything that could give you a sense of where you were. But all you heard was the shuffling of feet, the creak of floorboards, and the occasional muttered curse from one of your captors. They were efficient, methodical, as if they'd done this before.

A firm grip on your shoulder guided you forward, and you stumbled along, disoriented in the darkness. You tried to keep track of the turns, the sounds, anything that might help you later. But it was all a blur, and your heart sank with the realization that you were losing track of time and space.

They shoved you into what felt like a vehicle, the door slamming shut behind you. The engine roared to life, and you felt the vehicle lurch forward. You were being taken somewhere- a second location. Every survival instinct screamed at you that this was bad, very bad. Being moved to a second location almost always meant your chances of survival dropped to nearly zero.

But you couldn't focus on that. You couldn't afford to.

You leaned back against the cold, unforgiving metal of the van's interior, trying to keep your breathing steady. Your mind raced, searching for a plan, an escape, anything that could get you out of this alive. The vehicle rattled and bounced as it drove over rough terrain, the minutes stretching into an agonizing eternity.

You blinked awake, the world around you spinning as you struggled to focus. The rough fabric of the bag was gone, but the air was thick with the smell of dust and rust. Your throat was dry, and your lungs burned as you sucked in deep breaths, your body weak from the suffocation.

When your vision finally cleared, you realized you were in a dimly lit warehouse, the kind that felt as if it had been abandoned for years. The cold metal chair you were tied to sent a shiver through your spine. The ropes around your wrists and ankles were tight, digging into your skin, and no matter how much you strained against them, they wouldn't budge.

The sound of muffled voices caught your attention. You turned your head to see Walden, his face bruised and bloodied, standing a few feet away, also tied to a chair. There was a cruel smile on his lips as he glared at the group of men surrounding him.

"You're pathetic," Walden sneered, his voice dripping with disdain. "Is this the best you can do? Hitting a man who's tied up? No wonder you're stuck in a place like this."

One of the men stepped forward and swung a fist, hitting Walden hard across the face. The sound echoed through the empty warehouse, and you winced, your heart clenching in your chest.

But Walden just laughed, spitting blood onto the floor. "That all you got? No wonder you need guns. You're too weak to handle anything else."

The men exchanged dark looks, clearly irritated by Walden's defiance. They wanted to break him, to make him beg, but all they were getting was his mockery.

"Shut him up," one of them growled, and another man stepped forward, raising a gun and pressing it against your temple. The cold metal sent a jolt of fear through you, but you fought to keep your face neutral, to not show the panic surging inside you.

Walden's laughter died instantly, replaced by a low, dangerous growl. His eyes, usually calm and calculating, flashed with an intense, burning rage. "You touch them, and I'll rip your throat out," he snarled, his voice barely human.

The man holding the gun hesitated, glancing back at his comrades. For a moment, there was a flicker of doubt-Walden's threat wasn't just empty words, and they knew it. But the hesitation was brief, and the man steadied the gun, pushing it harder against your temple.

"Do it," the leader of the group said. "Let's see if he's still so cocky when he watches you die."

Your heart pounded in your chest, you refused to give these bastards the satisfaction of seeing you break.

You stared straight ahead, your eyes locked on Walden's, trying to draw strength from his defiance. You wouldn't give them the reaction they wanted,

Walden's growl deepened, and he strained against his restraints, his muscles bulging as he fought to free himself. "I swear to God, if you hurt them-"

The gunman's finger twitched on the trigger then he silenced himself. The atmosphere in the warehouse grew even more tense as one of the men, clearly the leader, stepped forward.

"You know why we're here," the man said, his voice dripping with disdain. "You've got a lot of money, Mister Darling, and we want our cut. But it's not just about the money, is it?"

Walden's expression remained unchanged, though you could see the flicker of something dangerous in his eyes. He didn't respond, and the man's lips curled into a sneer.

"You know what you've done," he continued, his tone laced with accusation. "All those bodies... you thought you could just erase them, cover it all up like it never happened."

The words sent a chill down your spine. Bodies? Erase them? There was something about the man's voice that nagged at you, something familiar that you couldn't quite place.

Walden's jaw clenched, but he didn't say anything. The man seemed to relish the silence, savoring his control over the situation.

"I know what you're thinking, Darling," the man said, taking another step closer. "You're wondering who I am, I'll let you stew on that a bit longer."

He turned to the others, motioning for them to bring something forward. One of the men stepped into the shadows, reemerging with a small box. Your heart sank when you recognized it, it was the same box you had brought back to your room that night. The one containing a few important things

They tossed the box to the ground in front of Walden, the contents rattling inside as it slid across the concrete floor. Walden's eyes narrowed as he glanced at the box, then back at the leader, suspicion and anger simmering just beneath the surface.

"Where the hell is it, Darling?" the man demanded, his voice sharp. "We know you've got it. The paper, the device... the serum. We know everything."

Your heart skipped a beat at the mention of the serum. The rainbow serum. If that's what they were after, you knew this situation was far worse than you'd initially thought.

Walden didn't react immediately, his expression carefully neutral. But you knew him well enough to see the gears turning in his mind, weighing his options, calculating his next move.

"You really think I'm going to hand it over to you?" Walden finally spoke, his voice steady, though there was a cold edge to it. "You don't know what you're dealing with."

The leader let out a harsh laugh, shaking his head as if amused by Walden's defiance. "You're right, we don't. But we don't need to. All we need is you to give it to us, and we'll be on our way."

Walden's eyes flickered toward you for a split second, a silent warning. The room seemed to grow colder, the tension thickening as the stand-off continued. You could sense that things were about to take a turn, and it wasn't going to be in your favor.

The leader motioned to one of his men, who stepped forward and kicked the box closer to Walden. "We know you've got it," he repeated, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. "And if you don't hand it over, things are going to get ugly."

Walden's expression didn't change, but you could see the calculation in his eyes. He was outnumbered, restrained, and yet he didn't seem afraid. If anything, he seemed almost... resigned.

And that's when the leader turned to you, his gaze piercing as he locked eyes with you. "Maybe your friend here can help jog your memory. I'm sure they'd love to see what happens when someone like you crosses the wrong people."

The gun was back, pressed against your temple once more, the cold metal biting into your skin.

You could only hope that Walden had a plan because it was clear that these people wouldn't stop until they got what they wanted. And if they didn't, there was no telling what they'd do to you both

Where was Solaria?

He should have been here, but there was no sign of him. You were starting to feel a sense of dread creeping in, wondering if something had happened to him, if he'd been caught off guard somewhere.

"Looking for someone?" the leader taunted, noticing your distraction. He sneered, seeming to relish the fear he thought he saw in your eyes. But before you could say anything, Walden's voice cut through the tension like a knife.

"Seems like you people don't know much about me," Walden said, his tone deceptively calm. The words were meant for you as much as they were for your captors. There was a glint of something dangerous in his eyes,

Before the leader could respond, Walden's posture shifted, his claws suddenly extending from his fingertips with a deadly gleam. The ropes binding him fell away, cut cleanly by the sharp edges.

The man holding the gun to your head barely had time to register what was happening before Walden was upon him. There was a brief moment of shock on the man's face, his finger twitching on the trigger, but he never got the chance to fire. Walden tackled him with a force that sent them both crashing to the ground.

The gun skidded across the concrete floor as Walden's claws tore through the air, leaving deep gashes in the man's arm. He cried out in pain, and you watched in stunned silence as Walden's ferocity became visible.

In the same fluid motion, Walden turned and slashed through the ropes binding you to the chair. "Go!" he shouted, his voice urgent, eyes wild with adrenaline. But as you tried to move, you quickly realized you were trapped.
You stumbled as you got to your feet, your limbs stiff from being tied up for so long.

Walden turned to face the remaining men, his claws ready, his stance poised for a fight. "Get out of here!" he yelled again,

The man Walden had tackled was already starting to recover, clutching his wounded arm as he staggered to his feet. His face twisted in anger as he reached for a weapon, but Walden was faster, striking him down before he could pose another threat.

But you