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beforeimdeceased · 5 days

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i did not have the heart to appreciate this when i wrote it but it’s genuinely magnificent. a nice dark!ellabs thriller.

FINAL ACT — OBSESSIVE ELLABS 🪵🏚️🪓

synopsis: it had been six years since the incident that altered the course of your life forever.

content warnings: gruesome deaths, kidnapping, gore, drugging, and cults. please do not read if you are sensitive to such topics.

word count: 3k

in your dreams you’d had flashing images of your death projected before you. drinking a glass of poison mixed in with your morning orange juice. getting your shoe laces trapped in the ridges of the train tracks. falling into a pit of spears.

you always woke up sweaty and broken. not angry or sad, but broken. broken about the fact that death was, and had always been, on your mind.

it had been 6 years since you’d escaped your own personal hell. a two man show of the torment of seclusion. your girlfriend’s, ellie and abby, were like groundskeepers.

it had been sweet at first. the protectiveness and care, but everything quickly soured when you’d decided to come home early one day.

it was a mellow autumn afternoon. the wind was nippy and you hadn’t brought a sweater. fuck it, you thought. you’d be leaving work early today.

you had gotten home and immediately knew something was wrong. that line between anxiety and intuition was slicing at your stomach like a knife. you were stomping your way into the house due to the thoughts.

in the living room tied to a chair sat angeline. a very sweet, big brown eyed freckled face girl with tears in her eyes. her mouth covered with a thick slab of duck tape. you rushed to her, dropping your purse at the door.

“don’t move any closer.” you hear from behind you and the click of a gun. your hands rose on instinct as you turned around slowly. there stood ellie, gun in hand with a scared look on her face. “i don’t want to have to shoot you.”

“what is all of this?” you ask, stupidly. idiotically. pathetically, apologetically, prying for a rational reason for her to have your coworker tied to a chair in your living room. cursing yourself for telling them about how she’d flirted with you the other day. jokingly.

“shit.” abby emerges from the corner and it catches ellie’s attention long enough for you to charge at her. the gun jams and you race up the stairs with your phone in your hand, dialing 911.

ever since that day you’d regretted leaving angeline down there by herself. you’d regretted not watching the two girls that you’d love so dearly, hours before. because they had up and left, no trace of them found.

no trace of you in that town either. a small bungalow on a grassy land was where you’d chosen to reside. days away from that old house. angeline had not contacted you since, and was making a name for herself as a motivational speaker.

“bullshit.” you roll your eyes at the article illuminating from your flip phone. an unfortunate downgrade but the only one you could afford. you’ll miss those nights of mindless thumb scrolling, but it was what you needed to do. you press the small arrow that leads you down and shake your head.

not a single word about the two girls. a picture of them displayed, one you had to keep tapping “next” to see. it was of them with you cut out. you found yourself grinding your teeth before closing the phone.

and it rang. a jolt ran through your heart and up to your brain. legs threatening to give out as your eyes gave in to the name projected, scrolling on the small rectangular screen.

shara.

you grab it quickly to answer. “hi, i wanted to give you a call, day of. about our date.”

“yes, yes.” you get up and walk potently around the house. pretending to clean, pretending to search for something, straightening a stack of papers. the overwhelming feeling of being watched had never left you. it ate away at you, it was inescapable. your therapist says you need to breathe. your psych says you shouldn’t skip your meds. you really think you need a break from living.

eight o’clock had come quicker than you’d expected. your phone tucked neatly in your jacket pocket, rang alarmingly. time to head out.

the search for your keys was driving you mad. up and down the stairs. outside, under the kitchen cabinets, in a dish, in the bathroom, in your hair? fuck where could they be.

“hey pretty dove.” rang in your ears. your hands shook instantly as you closed your eyes, finding it difficult to breathe. that low warm voice of the blue eyed blonde could never bring you comfort. not anymore.

you were dreaming, hallucinating, you thought. you squeezed your eyes shut hoping it’d wake you. praying it’d wake you. wake me up.

but the sound of your keys jingling prompted you to turn around. leaving your detective work in the cushions of your couch to feast your eyes on a scene that smacked you with deja vu. the two, ellie with a small smile on her face. abby with your keys in her hand.

before you can find yourself exploring the possiblility of freedom with the reach of your phone, you realize the battery has been removed. they wait to watch your face fall before charging at you with a needle filled with something that turned your vision hazy and limbs limp.

this was the beginning of act two. their revenge.

“oh, please please let me die.” is what first comes out of your cracked lips. voice scratchy and thin like a slender piece of sandpaper. you open your eyes to what seems like a basement. concrete floor cold against your skin. you thought about shara and shut your eyes hoping she was okay. a tear fell.

a bright light shone down from the ceiling. around you was a couch, a rug too far out of reach, and a small table next to it. besides that, nothing but stairs and the chain you were currently latched to by a brace on your wrist. you didn’t waste your time pulling against it, you’d only hurt yourself.

light cascades as the creak of a wooden door sounds from up the stairs. heavy footsteps trail down while the blonde girl lets the tips of her hands sit in her front pockets. you play a quick game with yourself in your head. two questions about your life, and one mention of your date. scratch that, one question.

“i’m not going to ask you how you’ve been, because i know.” she turns the corner with a lean on one side. you hadn’t noticed before but she had a slight limp in her right leg. “miserable without us?”

when you don’t respond you can see her visibly get angry and attempt to hold back. she sits herself on the ground a few feet in front of you. the wound in her leg evident with how much she struggles. noted.

“if you say something i’ll bring you something to eat.” she sings. there’s a small smile on her face as her hands clasp together. “i know all your favorites.”

“fuck you, you ruined me life.” you bite, but instantly regret it. she knew that and you knew that, but it didn’t need to be said out loud. you watch as she looks over at the chain your wrist is latched to and backs away as she leans closer.

“you’ll get that off after ellie talks to you.” her voice rasps. the sound of a glass breaking makes your eyes jolt up as you notice she hasn’t closed the door. you recognize ellie’s cursing anywhere and abby gives you a sympathetic look. “gotta help out my buddy. we’ll talk later.” she says before walking back up the stairs and leaving you there.

you curl up within yourself. what did you do to lead you to this horrific moment? how could it have been prevented? could it have? you always knew they’d come for you, but not like this. where had they been all this time?

“who’s idea was it to join a cult?” ellie asks abby with a scowl on her face. she ruffles with the sheer fabric of the gown she was told to wear. they we’re having a ceremony and she was the bowl and water girl. don’t ask.

“mine. it’s a fucking good idea, okay? and don’t call it a cult. we are a group of individuals aligned with the idea of submitting ourselves and our lives to a higher purpose.”

“they literally kill people.”

“that’s not confirmed. shut up ellie, i’m not gonna let you ruin this. i’m going to get back to my girl.” abby fixes ellie’s flower crown. “now get in there and midsommar the hell out of these freaks.”

“our girl.” she trudges, before putting on a comically exaggerated pout.

there was a drunkenness in the way ellie trudged down the stairs. it was the middle of the night, or you could only assume that from the way the silent horrid hours passed by. knocking ideas back and forth in your mind. chicken or beef? broccoli or peas? basketball or soccer? get me out of here.

“hellooo.” she sang. she’d brought herself a chair to sit down in front of you. her hair was one shade darker and it looked as though there were bruises on her neck. “haven’t seen you in a while.”

“i would’ve liked it to stay that way.” you retort. she laughs to herself, wiping the palm of her hand down the front of her face. she looks up at you, tongue in her cheek.

“penny for your thoughts? i’m sure you have questions.” she tosses a penny at you and it lands in front of your hands. perfect aim. “we went through hell to get back to you. don’t you care?”

“isn’t that where you’re from?” you pick up the penny and look at it. rusted copper and sides bumpy like a trail. she shrugs her shoulders. “born and raised.”

“here, let me help you get more comfortable.” her movements are that of someone approaching a wild animal. she gets up and gets close to you, unbuckling the chain from your wrist. “now, don’t try to ru—“

the words barely leave her lips as you push her to the side. upstairs is a house like you’d guessed, two stories which you infer from the steps. a living room with a couch like your old one. in fact, all the furniture was reminiscent of your old house. kitchen to your right, living room to your left, and the front door was what you were looking for.

abby walks down the stairs into the living room and sees you. she shakes her head. you run before she can even attempt to get you, but when you get to the door, you see the knob has been removed. it’s been replaced with some sort of tissue tape contraption and before you can pry at it, your feet are lifted off the ground.

you’re carried away. abby holds your scratching hands close to her and chains you to a latch that had been set up in a corner of the kitchen. where the real door sat, equipped with a string of locks, some requiring keys.

“while you’re up here we might as well feed you, right?” ellie has joined you now. you watch as abby slips ellie a ten and they nod in agreement. mumbling something along the lines of “i told you so.”

dinner was made by the two of them. steak, a baked potato and a side glass of lemonade. ellie sat a chair down in front of you with her plate. “dessert is going to be incredible. we made brownies.”

as much as you didn’t want to, without knowledge of what they’d done to it, you ate the baked potato. you needed your strength. they didn’t give you a fork of course, so you messied up your hands.

abby sets a chair down as well before speaking. “so i’m assuming you didn’t tell her the story?”

“ah it’s better if we both tell it.”

a thunderstorm was approaching the small house of an unusual mr “does it all do it all” stewart chasmin (stew for short). glasses bunched at the bridge of his nose while he flickers through two tv shows before it runs that, missed connection, grey glitching display.

the smack of a hand chirps at his window and it nearly makes him go through all five stages of grief. he’d only made it to the second before realizing who it was.

“stew the fucking drug dealer?” you interrupt. grease from the steak covering your mouth. abby leans in and wipes it for you. “let us finish sweetheart we’ve barely begun.”

“what have you two little shits gotten into now?” stewart asks, running a hand through his thick black hair. abby, soaked and blotting herself with a towel, speaks up. “we fucked up, stew. we need to disappear. somewhere we can make money.”

“and we need wigs. and like contacts or glasses.” ellie chimes in, drying herself aswell.

“aw fucking hell you fucking dipshits. did you kill somebody ya goddamn idiots?” he rambles on while searching around his house for something. “where’s that goddamn thing?”

ellie imagines herself behind bars for a split second before abby places a hand on her shoulder. “remember who we’re doing this for.” she whispers and ellie immediately relaxes.

“so you kidnapped my coworker for me? is that what you’re getting at?” you interrupt them again. you’d downed the whole glass of lemonade before setting the plastic cup on the floor with a thud.

“will you stop interrupting?” ellie sighs. “refill?”

“we’re joining a cult?” abby, hair splayed with brown faux extensions and ellie, hair shades darker, both stood at the edge of the middle of the road in what they called “buttfuck wherever.”

“i don’t think people have caught on to what this is yet. and don’t call it that, dammit. we stay here and lay low for a while until we save up a couple more bucks to get back to her.”

“a couple more bucks was around 6,000, plus what we already had.” abby was pouring strawberry lemonade into her cup. silly straw sticking up. it almost made you laugh.

“so you joined a cult and what? i’m supposed to feel bad and cry? you’re both terrible fucking people.” you crease your forehead.

“oh, we became much worse.”

“theyre fucking skinning people alive!” ellie trudges out of the meat room with her hand over her chest. “what in the fucking hell?”

she’d told abby that night who’d thrown up her earlier lunch in a tin outside. they became vegetarian, and the group surprisingly did not complain. after all, in some aspects, individuality was encouraged. another thing they’d agreed on was that they had to get jobs in that meat room.

“we got out by the skin of our teeth. abby took a tumble and fucked up her leg. her hair never recovered from those terrible extensions—“ abby hits her arm as ellie laughs. “but we made it back to you. easy to find you and even easier to get this nice little house in the middle of, well…”

“nowhere, so i wouldn’t run. you’ll only tire yourself out. screaming will fuck up your throat. and there’s about ten things in the woods that are worse then us.”

“bears.” ellie draws out the s.

in this very moment you contemplated suicide for far longer than you’d ever admit out loud. you could ofcourse, develop some sort of stockholm syndrome. stay with them forever until you all die from something that begins with a cough and ends in your colon, but that wasn’t living. keeping you hostage wasn’t life. this was your act 2.

“are you gonna be good?” abby’s firm hand cupped your face.

she’d awarded you a cot and blanket to sleep with and even offered you melatonin. you politely declined. so exhausted from the day that you felt you could knock out at any moment.

but you didn’t. you stayed up and planned. you’d had a rush of energy upon waking up, not surprised to see gleams of sunlight peaking through blocked windows in the basement. ones you couldn’t see during the night. two big crusty boogers in your eye.

ellie came down to say goodmorning and you learned that showering alone privileges wouldn’t be awarded until two weeks later. “you can always shower with us.” she reminds. to which you respond. “hell no.”

she let you go so you could go upstairs to the kitchen but when you began unlatching and beating at the locks, causing your hand to scar, she brought you back into the basement. abby came down to lecture you about being good for them. good girls get rewards.

you nod and she loosens her grip on your face before patting your cheek. “good girl. i’ll bring breakfast to you.”

they had work after that. when abby came down she looked clean and nice so you’d assumed it was some sort of attempt at showing off. you ate slowly and listened as their footsteps trailed from the living room to the kitchen. from upstairs to downstairs to out the kitchen door. you decided now is the best time to prick your mind for a possible escape.

because you were going to get the fuck out of here.

the girls come home to you with your chain wrapped around your neck and you sourly attempting to suffocate yourself. abby fights against you, undoing the chain and holding you close to her while she softly begins to cry.

they went upstairs after that but the door remained open and you weren’t chained up. you didn’t try to run. desperately attempting to ease drop on their hush hush conversation. you promised you wouldn’t run anymore, but you couldn’t do with the chain. it was honestly becoming extravagant.

“let’s have her— upstairs. yes.” was all you could really make out over the creaking of their footsteps trapped in the wood ceiling. ellie rushes down to see you, holding a hand out to help you from where you sat on the edge of your cot. you both meet abby at the front of the stairs.

they had led you upstairs where a shorter chain seemed to be newly installed in a room. it was next to a bed sat in the middle of two others. you could tell who they belonged to by the way they were made. abby’s neat and tucked, ellie’s thrown together.

“you’re going to sleep up here. we can’t trust you by yourself.” abby latches your wrist to the chain and pulls it to ensure you can’t get away. “we’ll bring you up something to eat.” she says. the two leave you with your thoughts.

“layered past? like what? are you a murderer or something?” shara asks, voice echoing on the other line. you laugh dryly and look down at the computer in front of you. an old article about the two girls on the screen.

“no, nothing like that. just my past relationship was traumatizing. to say the least.” you sigh.

“well, i can’t wait to learn all about it.”

“you haven’t heard from angeline? i’m assuming.” abby comes back with a small cup of apple sauce and a plastic spoon. ellie trailing behind her. “before we got to her ofcourse.”

“what are you talking about?” your mouth runs dry looking between the two of them. abby on your left, ellie on your right. abby dips the spoon into the cup and holds it up for you to eat but you refuse. this causes ellie to force your mouth open. “you said you’d be good. don’t you want the story?”

“you do this type of shit for the people you love? is that what’s spinning through your head right now?” angeline screams, now covered in tattoos with a dark shade of lipstick and dry blood on her lips. she’d changed alot since that night. now she was reliving it.

abby walked around her with a pipe in her hand, letting it swing at her feet. “you do anything for the people you love, right?” she asks, making sure to look over at ellie during the last part. ellie had been wiping some blood off of her hands from the intense blows she’s landed on angeline’s face. she nodded along with her.

“someone is going to find me. you’re going to go to jail for life.” angeline says through gritted and chipped teeth. her face was fucked up.

“we’re going to make sure that never happens.” abby whispers behind her before laying a solid blow to her head. it doesn’t take the first time, so she does it again. and again. and again. the sound of wounded sloshing skin filling the room as blood splatters everywhere.

“oh and poor shara.”

you leap at them unconsciously. using your free hand to grab onto abby’s hair and pull her close. you knee her in the face before ellie pulls you off. when abby looks up, her nose is dripping blood.

“oh fuck you! we did this for you, remember.” she holds her face to capture the thick red.

“don’t blame me for your fucking psychotic behavior!” you spat, erratically pulling at the chain. “let me fucking out of here you dipshit fucking fucks!”

ellie takes abby by the arm and leads her to the door, looking back at you before fully leaving. “we’re gonna let you calm down.” she sends off.

you sit, letting your mind wander to the first time you’d met the two.

“cocksucker!” you scream as you throw the thick red slushy at the cars windshield. it splatters against it, obstructing the driver’s, view while you travel to the passenger’s side with a crowbar in hand. you hit the door hard, completely destroying the glass. “you think you can try to manipulate me into sleeping with you and when i don’t do it—“ he’s run out on the drivers side now, attempting to scurry away. “you get me fucking fired?”

he almost gets away, almost, but he’s stopped by a car blocking him into the parking lot. you nod and thank the stranger before laying a few punches at his face. you hadn’t known then that the stranger was them, or that they admired your fight so much they took matters into their own hands.

“here’s what you’re gonna do. you’re gonna take this cash and fuck off. don’t call the police, and get a new car. if we ever see your face again, it’ll be the last time you see anything.”

the beaten and bloodied man nods pathetically at the two girls.

“i’m here to give you a small dose of something, okay?” ellie says calmly. “it’s just going to put you to sleep. nothing extreme.”

she’d returned from wherever, without abby this time. your wrist was sore from being latched and your head was spinning with all the memories flushing back. you felt a tear fall from your right eye and you wiped it quickly with a sniffle.

“hey hey it’s okay. she forgives you she just needs some time.” she places the needle down on the bed to comfort you. that was a huge mistake, you promptly grabbed it, jabbing it into her neck and pressing as you watch the liquid enter her body. she goes limp and falls onto the bed with some of your guidance.

you find a string of keys on her and curse at how fucking quick you need to find out which one will free you. the sound of footsteps acting as a timer. “ellie?” you hear abby call out. it’s not the small rusted one. “els?” it’s not the long ancient looking one. “what’s going on up there?” it’s not the chunky one painted blue.

“oh fuck.” abby curses at the sight. it was the one with a small heart carved into the back, and you’d hidden yourself under the bed before her arrival. when she nears the bed you grab her right leg and dig your fingernails into a purple bruise you see. she screams out in agony as you slip from under and run down to the kitchen.

she’s hot on your trail even with the limp. hands reaching out and just barely missing you as you free yourself down the stairs. “fuck.” she says with each step she takes. you wait for her in the living room, a lighter that had be sat on a stand now being held behind your back.

when she finally gets down you hold it up.

“let me go or i’ll set this entire place on fire.”

“you think you’re so much better than us? you’re worse. you’re the fucking psycho.” she holds a hand over her chest to catch her breath while looking over at you.

“give me the lighter, stop being fucking stupid.” she holds a hand out. “cmon i don’t have time for this shit.”

you ignite it and throw it but it doesn’t catch. with what’s left in you, you run to the kitchen in search of knives. every drawer was locked, all the cabinets emptied. except for—

“fuck you!” you swing the large pot at her. the two of you wrestle over it before you find yourselves back in the living room. she’s so much stronger than you and you felt as though you’d slip and fall at any moment, your balance wavering. you let her have the pot and she throws it on the ground attempting to lunge at you. you grab everything you can to throw at her. remote control, tv antenna, letter opener, couch pillows. pocket knife.

she gets a hold of you and wraps her hands around your neck. holding you down to the ground squeezing tightly. “youve always been strong willed. so fucking—“ she squeezes harder and you choke and gasp for air. “determined.”

your hand reaches around you before feeling that the pocket knife had fallen next to where you were now laying. your vision was going hazy. eyes nearly closing, fingers going limp. you don’t think you can fight anymore.

but you can. you grab the knife and stick it into the side of her head. blood spluttering over you as she loses feeling in her body. she pauses for a moment before her grip loosens and you watch the light leave her eyes. you’d just killed somebody.

you gasp for air. pushing her limp body off of yourself and feeling tears well up in your eyes while you wipe some of the blood off of your face. you crawl to the kitchen, then weakly attempt to stand up.

you decide to try for the indoor locks first. hand barely getting to the first one before you hear footsteps creak behind you. ellie was standing no more than two feet away from you, anger in her eyes and blood covering her hands. “fuck.” you say before she charges at you.

you fall to the ground and she attempts to pin your hands down. you knee her in the stomach, pushing her to the side. you try to crawl away but she grabs at your leg and bites into it. definitely drawing blood, you can feel it begin to spill out.

“fuck you!” you turn, your back against the floor while you raise your other foot to kick her in the face. you limp back to the living room while she nurses her wounds. grabbing the knife from abby’s head. you swallow back tears.

“you have a serious fucking problem.” ellie stumbles in after you. you laugh a bit, pointing the weapon at her and gesturing it up and down. “takes one to know one, you sick freak.”

she charges at you once more, causing you to drop the knife as you stumble away. she picks it up and laughs. “man are you fucking stupid. you could’ve actually gotten away if you weren’t such an idiot.”

but what she didn’t know was that while she was regaining sight after you left a blow to her nose, you’d picked up the lighter again. you take the opportunity of her being blind-sighted by thinking she has the upper hand to locate the smartest way to start it.

but she lunges at you, knife digging into your shoulder before pulling it out while you scream in agony. she grabs you and drags you by the wounded arm to the kitchen. throwing you to the ground and watching you fall with a thud.

you’re bleeding, and it’s starting to get bad. red spilling out of the wound like a volcano. you wince trying to apply pressure. tears falling as you feel sick from the feeling. your skin tearing open, your insides out.

she unlocks a drawer as you pathetically crawl away. when she turns back around she grabs you by the wounded leg and pulls you back to her. needle now in hand filled with some mysterious liquid. she holds you up by your neck. “accept this.” she breathes.

you go limp for a moment. should you? think of all the pain you’ve caused? you’re the reason they killed angeline. you’re the reason they killed shara. you’re the catalyst of all the death and destruction surrounding you. you were just as bad as them, if not worse.

so that’s why you let the adrenaline take over. free and unwounded hand leaving your shoulder and grabbing the glass syringe from her, breaking it against her face. you take the lighter you’d dropped when she threw you down and ignite it, watching as her face catches fire.

a howl of a horrific terror filled scream pierces your ears. she jumps up and runs around the house blindly. finding herself bumping against a curtain in the living room, setting it alight. she desperately tries to put herself out but her view is obstructed and she seemingly falls to floor next to abby, a fire brewing behind them.

your hands are sweaty and the keys slip through them as you begin to unlock the kitchen door. you don’t catch wind of the fire in the living room until you smell it. along with the smell of dead. one that will never leave your nose.

you take a deep breath as you finish off the locks, opening the door. stumbling, sobbing, holding your wounds you see that what the two had said was correct. there was nothing but road and grass for as far as you could see. there were barely any street lights.

you sit on the bottom step of the porch and look down at your disheveled state. a satisfyingly long, survivors scream traveling from your gut. to your throat. to the space around you. this was the final fucking act.

#horror fanfiction #horror #ellabs #ellabs tlou #ellabs x reader #abby anderson #ellie williams #ellie williams x reader #abby anderson x reader #ellie williams x you

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