#pt2 to harry warden x female reader

[a-king-alone]

Harry Warden x female reader, pt.2

Summary: Harry’s POV

What is life like when you hardly see the sunshine? It's dark and bleak, sometimes dreary, sometimes depressing. A dark haired man stood in the shadows, his entire body covered in his work uniform, his visage then obscured by a gas mask that he had put on. A nozzle connected to its mouth, allowing him to breathe easier.

He stood in a tunnel, resuming his scheduled work after a short break, talking and laughing with his coworkers. It was just another day. Nothing unusual, getting onto the grind for survival. Harry Warden turned his head when one of his pals said his name, but before they could continue, the ground rumbles beneath their feet.

The tremors don't stop as the men panic, fleeing toward safety, but they heard screams echoing down the shafts of the mine. And then, nothing but stillness. Harry waits patiently as one of the two coworkers that ran with him went to go investigate.

Upon their return, their voices shook when they retold what they had seen. The part of the mine that lead to the surface had collapsed on top of a group of men. None of them survived. And now there was no way out. They all knew the precautions, but they never expected it to actually happen.

"Stay calm," Harry said, trying to keep his own voice steady. But the panic swelled inside of his stomach. He had to remain calm. If they succumb to fear, they succumb to death.

"We need to stick together. We could use an alternate route and make our way to the surface."

The other two men agreed, it was definitely better to stick together. They attempted to ration what little food and water they had left while looking for more from the corpses of their friends.

Their head lamps begin to dim, escalating their panic. Being stuck in the dark was much worse. To starve to death, surrounded by complete darkness... Not any such way to navigate out of the underground tunnels. They felt death looming, breathing down their necks.

There wasn't a way to track the time. They couldn't tell how long they had been down there, but it felt like forever.

When one of the two men's head lamp finally died, they both conspired against Harry, to take his life and use his rations for their own survival... but Harry knew they would. He wasn't stupid.

A brawl ensued between the men and Harry barely managed to take them both out, killing both of them with his pickax, slashing and crushing their skulls into the dirt. Afterward, he claimed their supplies, but cried heavily in agony. He had never killed anyone or anything before. He was a gentle man who never hurt anybody... unless they liked it.

Only one more lamp, a limited and dwindling time limit for survival. Soon, everything became depleted and Harry returned to the bodies of his coworkers... It was the only way, but his chest heaved, faster and faster, until he forced himself to shut his eyes, to ignore the heavy stench of blood and decay. He consumed their meat, the flesh of the deceased... It was stringy and disgusting, chunks taken out of their bodies with metal. But he had no other choice. It was the only way.

Alone, his descent into madness spiraled down and fast. His scream echoed down mine shafts in his torment after throwing the mask against the wall, wasting precious energy with a violent rage. Shrill bellows, cursing God, begging for someone, anyone, to save him. It was hard to breathe, wandering aimlessly, hopelessly.

"Please..." he begged to no one in a weak whisper, the light of his head lamp flickering and fading out, the last of his will falling away with it. These tunnels would become his tomb, his grave. He would never see his family again, never see the rays of the sunshine, never feel the kiss of a lover. His body will rot behind, never to be seen again.

As the light dimmed to its death, a small white dot flickered off into the distance from where Harry had sat and leaned against equipment, accepting his horrid demise. He blinked rapidly with his sharp breaths, scrambling weakly to his feet with his mask in his hand.

He approached the small, barely visible light, observing that it was definitely sunshine filtering through. With his bloody pickax, he chipped away at the stone. It felt hopeless. His strength was depleted, but he had to keep going.

Somehow, he managed to break through the opening just enough to crawl through.

When the fresh air filled his lungs, it was utterly overwhelming, tears poured from his eyes with his cries, blinded by the bright sun high in the sky. He stumbled forward and fell to his knees, grasping the grass and dirt between his fingers and blurred vision, sobbing hysterically as endless tears dripped down onto the dried blood and meat caked into his gloves.

Despite being lucky enough to somehow escape from the mine, rage swirled inside, for those responsible for the accident. If they had stayed at the site instead of going to that stupid dance... How long had he been down there? Far off on top of the hills was where the entrance was, near the collapse, yet there wasn't anyone there, as far as he could see after wiping his face off.

He felt weak, barely able to walk all the way back to his town, Valentines Bluffs. He was sure that his friends and family would be ecstatic to see that he had survived. Somehow, he made it.

But when he arrived, he found them only to be astounded and horrified. Finally, he got to be fed real food, downing glasses and glasses of water. The towns folk questioned him, why he had blood all over his uniform and he explained that an explosion trapped everyone inside of the mine, the explosion itself causing a collapse that killed most of the miners on impact.

"How did you survive?" the mayor himself questioned, so Harry explained. He and two others were mostly unscathed, but they had run low on supplies while trying to find a way to exit the mines. Those around him were stunned, claiming that there was an attempt to rescue for weeks, but no one was found.

"So, where are they...?"

Guilt shredded Harry's insides. He hesitated for a moment, but he decided to tell them the truth: he had overheard their plot to conspire against him to prolong their own survival and they attacked him. He defended himself against them and killed them. Instead of the reaction he had expected, faces around him shifted into something... else.

"You... Harry, you... killed them...?"

Exasperation spiked within him as he further defended himself, explaining that he was backed into a corner. When they looked suspicious, he felt a violent rage brewing, but exhaled his breath. They wanted more details on how he had managed to survive for so long without food, without water, without light.

There were no details omitted from his retelling of his experience, the fact that they looted dead bodies to try and survive, that he killed them when they turned against him, that he used the rest of their supplies until there was nothing and then... he ate their flesh.

"What?! You ate them??"

"I had to!" he barked, slamming his fist on the top of the table, startling the others standing around him. He rose from his seat as he heard voices whispering that he may be mentally insane, that maybe someone should call the police.

It felt like something inside of his brain snapped. Something broke inside and his emotions felt far away, replaced with nothing but an intense and extreme hatred. They were looking at him as if he were a monster, their faces contorted with disgust, when all he had done was told the truth.

As they decided that they were going to have him institutionalized, he stormed out of the vicinity with his swollen rage at their betrayal. He never would have expected that they would react this way, he had thought they would offer him empathy for his plight, for the horrible experience he had gone through.

He would never forgive them. Never.

Harry left the town the way he had come, still wearing the tattered, bloody uniform, carrying the mask that kept him alive under his arm. He wandered aimlessly though dangerous paths to keep the towns folk from trailing him. The sun rose and it fell, replaced with the dim shine of the moon.

Yet he felt nothing but numbness, seeing another towns lights far off in the distance from the hill he had climbed. Feeling weary, he sat on the ground, leaning against a tall tree for rest. His lids closed, but sleep never came. The darkness made him feel certain ways that he wanted to forget.

His eyes were dark, sunken with the lack of restful sleep, continuing his journey toward the town he had seen when the sun rose again. Though he knew he couldn't really travel through the public, looking the way that he did, traversing through the outskirts.

As the night befell around him again, he noticed an old looking home out in the middle of nowhere a bit of a ways off from the town, seemingly abandoned at first glance. As he approached it, he tried the door knob to the front door, finding it to be unlocked. Thinking he caught a lucky break to have adequate shelter to rest under, he entered inside, surveying its contents after putting his gas mask on, just in case someone were there and could identity him.

To his surprise, it looked quite clean and lived in, but all of the decor was outdated by at least a decade. His hopeful assumption was that the person who had lived there perhaps died recently and the house remained unoccupied.

As he ascended the staircase to the second floor, he observed the photographs lining it, but ignored any thoughts lingering about them. He was tired, so tired, hungry and cold. He came across a bedroom door near the top, stepping inside. A strange feeling overcame him, a feeling that told him this may not be a good idea.

The room looked very lived in and a lot of personal items were scattered about. Maybe someone did live there. He felt out of place and decided that he should probably leave before anyone arrived, turning toward the window across from the bed. It lead to the rooftop. As he began to try and open it to peer out into the darkness for any land mark he could use, he heard the sound of glass shattering.

When he turned his head slowly, a woman came into his view and she looked absolutely horrified. She had dropped a vase. He's covered in blood, wearing a mask. This obviously looked very bad. He stayed still, going over his options on how to calm the situation before it got really out of hand when she began to sputter nonsensical words before running away from him.

Oh, shit...

Immediately he followed her, rounding the bottom of the staircase to see her dialing a number into her telephone. He closed the short distance with long strides, pressing down on the button to terminate her call.

"Don't do that."

The poor woman looked completely petrified and inside, Harry felt bad for scaring her and invading her home, but he couldn't allow her to make his situation worse than it already was. He knew that her fear might make her comply with him and he could use force if it became necessary, but he felt so weary and exhausted. His plan was that he would stay the night just to rest and then depart, hopefully without the homes inhabitant causing too much trouble.

When he moved just slightly, the woman cowered away in fear, Harry internally wincing at how afraid of him she was. He felt sorry about it, knowing that he was frightening looking and a stranger. He imagined she could only expect the worst of him.

He decided to stay still and wait for her to do as she wished. But she stayed just as still as him, for several moments, before she rose from her kitchen chair, retreating further into the kitchen as he watched her without ever showing him her back. And to his surprise, she stuttered out a question, asking if he would like... some tea.

Uh, what?

Harry guessed she didn't want to get hurt, so she may be attempting to make her situation less painful for herself as well.

He accepted her offer with a silent nod, watching as she shook the entire time while preparing one for him and one for herself. This meant that he would have to take off his gas mask, which he wasn't actually opposed to, unless she knew of his identity, but that may be unlikely. Might make her feel more at ease without it.

As he's lost in his thoughts, her words bring him back to the present, where he sees that she sat across from him at the table, a cup of hot tea in front of him. She asked if he would prefer for her to look away. Internally, he laughed at the thought that she assumed he was a criminal of some sorts. He didn't consider himself to be a criminal, he didn't do anything wrong. But what else would she think?

"...No."

He reached up and removed his gear from his visage to reveal himself to her, placing it down next to him on the table. Somehow, he felt pleased by her expression and guessed she was shocked by his appearance when he caught her hard stare.

Without breaking eye contact, he removed his gloves as well, mostly curious to know if she would be the first to look away or not. She didn't, but her eyes were wide with fear, which made him feel bad, so he averted his gaze down to the cup in front of him.

He tried it, finding it very pleasant to be warmed by it, paying her a small compliment for her kindness, even though it was forced. His eyes meet with hers again, because, well, they're pretty, when she suddenly sucked in air through her lips in quiet gasp.

Harry swallowed hard, feelings becoming roused that he felt were incredibly inappropriate. Noises were a special kind of weakness for him, especially ones that he favored and he was finding that he really, really, really liked hers.

Somehow, he was feeling that he was becoming a little bit attracted toward her, her voice was soft and sounded so alluring. He knew feeling that way was wrong because of the situation, he definitely needed to retain control over himself. He wasn't the type of man to be a degenerate low life. She was so afraid of him that she constantly trembled, but it seemed that she gathered a little courage.

She attempted to ask about his identity, but he shook his head, slow and deliberate, for her to cease. Don't ask about me, he thought. I'm nobody now.

Tears were making her eyes shine from her visible fear and the guilty feelings stirred around in his insides. He wanted to try and at least be less scary, but it wasn't working very well. She rose from her chair suddenly with her cup, toward the kitchen sink where she placed it down.

Harry decided to do the same, coming up behind her as she froze, placing his own on top of hers, but when his arm went past hers, she inhaled sharply again with a soft gasp. He strained his jaw by clenching his teeth, failing to contain a noise in his throat. She smelled pretty nice. Kinda turning me on here, girl, stop it... Ah, shit. I just made a creepy noise, he thought as more thoughts swirled about his brain, trying to get a hold of himself.

Certainly he couldn't be so desperate...?

But then he made a mistake.

He leaned down to her level, whispering that his name was Harry into her ear, then hesitating for a moment after he had said it. Her voice is so nice, I shouldn't have... done that, he thought, trying to think of a way to backtrack and decides to just tell her to not say it out loud. Feeling awkward, he moved away from her back to where he had sat before, taking his seat and trying to not feel like a creepy weirdo.

Sleep deprivation was leading him to make poor decisions.

And then suddenly, the woman was sobbing over her sink, tears pouring down her cheeks and Harry felt like a black hole sucked out his heart and spat it into infinite space. He knew he definitely fucked up right there, wishing he could apologize or say anything to make her feel better, but he knew nothing he could say would be appropriate. He already crossed a line.

But he felt like he should say something.

"You want a hug?"

His eyes were met with her daggers, staring at him in disbelief as he internally felt like he was being devoured. Why couldn't it have been some old guy or lady living here? Not this poor pretty little lady on the verge of a heart attack...

"Just kidding," he said, deciding to look at anything but her and observe the old decor a little more just to do something else. He wasn't making it any better. Though, he did notice that she wasn't sobbing anymore, so maybe he did made a decent move this time.

The woman asked him out of the blue if he had planned on killing her, to which, his brows rose just slightly. No, definitely not, but it proved that she was very afraid of him, most likely for that very reason. He decided to tell her the truth, saying no, he thought the house was empty.

She uttered an 'oh', but her tone mistakenly made it sound as if she were disappointed and Harry wanted to laugh. 'Oh', like she wanted him to kill her. He raises a brow at her chagrin as she tried to defend herself, stuttering that she hadn't meant it like that. Please stop, you are so cute, he thought, finding a bit of himself wishing that he could just live a normal home life with a gal... Maybe... this gal.

No, never. Never.

But he got a little bit ballsy over a meaningless attraction that had no basis or foundation to turn into anything more, telling her that if she asked nicely, he might comply with her wishes. Though, his wish was to hear what she sounded like, up against him, pleading for him to touch her. He found himself getting riled up over his thoughts. Can't be thinkin' about all that, he told himself.

The look on her face told him that she was immediately eager to take his offer and ask something of him and all he could laughably think of was her asking him to kiss her. Inwardly he felt embarrassed over his wild imagination.

When she got the courage to speak her mind, she asked if it was okay if she could ask something of him, though he knew it wouldn't be anything he wanted, he gruffly let her know it depended on what she asked for. She looked disappointed and it gave him a tinge of sadness.

I know you want me to go away, he thought. I just need some place to stay. I'll be gone before you know it.

To his surprise though, she inquired if he could help her gather some blankets from the second floor, presumably, for him. It was unexpected, but he was thankful for her kindness, even if he really didn't deserve it at all.

He accepted, following her lead up the staircase to a closet, where she stored her extra items. The light inside of the space was brightly lit, exposing the details of his visage to her, giving her a much more clear view. And shockingly, when his eyes met hers, she immediately looked away with a blush flooding her cheeks.

Fuck.

Fuck.

Fuck, that's cute.

Harry made an attempt to calm himself, gathering the fabrics from the top shelf, trying to think of anything else, anything else. The woman mentioned a couch downstairs, but it made Harry feel a dark chill. It was very dark downstairs and he couldn't handle the dark consuming him.

Fuck it, she ain't into me, it's foolish to even play around with these ideas, let's make this night end, he thought, unable to get a grasp of his thoughts spiraling out of control over her. Forget it, just forget it, there's a bed and I'm sleeping in it.

The woman looked to him with extreme incredulity at his words, implying that they were going to sleep, in her bed. He went to her room, pushing the door open with his foot and placed the extra blankets on it. When she was just standing there with a shocked expression, he beckoned her to come inside.

It was clear she did not want to, but she obeyed, further following his direction when he quite literally pulled back her covers for her to lay down under. And she did. The closest he would ever be to her was tucking her in, so he does, nice and cozy. He softly asked aloud if she were comfortable, but it seemed she hadn't heard him.

He repeated himself, but she cowered away from him, causing that bad feeling to arise once again. God, I'm sorry...

Harry sat on the edge of her bed next to her, facing away from her. He told her that he had no intent on hurting her or any such thing, unless she wanted him to, which she vehemently denied as expected. He chuckled lightly with his morbid joking, then thanked her for her hospitality, even though... he cornered her into it. At the realization, he chuckled just a bit, rewording himself to acknowledge her forced cooperation. And not turning me over to the local authorities, he thought silently.

He only hoped she could understand.

They sat in a moment of silence before the woman spoke up quietly, asking if she could at least change into something more comfortable. A wild image of her undressing crossed his mind, getting a little cheeky in his response, as he did ask if she was comfortable, but he felt like he definitely needed to leave the room and calm himself. He wouldn't ever do anything disgusting, he already felt disgusted by his own thoughts.

He removed himself, standing outside of the closed door.

The window in her bedroom faced where the sun rose over the horizon, while the downstairs windows mostly faced the opposite direction. Being alone, in the darkness, in an enclosed area... He couldn't do it. I'm sorry, he thought. He could put up with the ground, he could put up with sleeping in the wilderness out in the open, but the thought of himself enveloped in darkness in a closed space, he felt like he might choke.

He felt so tired.

When he reentered the room, the woman was where he had left her, though he assumed she finished her business. He moved to the opposite side of her bed and began to strip off of his dirty clothes one at a time. He knew she would look away.

Afterward, he made himself comfy, but knew there was something missing. He began to use the extra blankets she had offered him to build a barrier between herself and him, her turning toward him with a confused expression. It was the least he could do. Not that it would do much to make her feel any better, he was basically invading her bed selfishly, but damn was it cozy.

"Please allow me to have this selfish comfort."

Oh my God it feels like heaven.

The fabrics were heavy with her scent, a nice addition to a decent sleep, for once. They stay in silence for a while, until the woman moves about just a bit to turn off the lamp. Harry sucked in his breath. He had hoped she wouldn't do that. No matter how comfortable, he could only lie there, wide awake despite tired eyes while surrounded by darkness.

No thoughts were in his mind.

Only panic.

Suddenly, he hears her voice over to his side, small, but he barely heard what she asked quietly. It was random and it sent his mind into a wreck. It threw him over the edge. What happened to me?

I'm not Harry anymore.

Harry is just a murderer.

It's too much. It's all too much. He rolled over and... clung onto the stranger woman. It was crossing a line, but he'd already crossed it. There were blankets between him and her. It felt like it was all falling apart at the seams. It all begins to overflow and he couldn't make it stop.

He told her that he escaped.

The lone survivor. He had been in that fucking hole for so long, trying to find a way out. Slowly losing all resources. Losing his grip on reality. All hope completely destroyed. Moments before finding faint light, he had accepted his death. Trying to have the backs of his coworkers that turned on him, taking their lives. His friends and associates, betraying him when he sought out their help.

How he had to... eat their flesh, just to survive. There was nothing left. He had to. He had no other choice. He didn't know if she understood or if she even cared, but he couldn't bear it anymore.

But then she said it.

"You were in that mine accident... I'm sorry."

She understood.

He knew it was stupid, but he wanted it to end. To go back, to change it, to have taken another job, any other career, born to a different life, away from that stupid little miners town that only cared about a useless holiday. He begged her to just please tell him that everything was okay. Because nothing felt okay. Nothing at all.

And she did. Her voice quivered, but it seemed as if she really wanted to make him believe that it was actually okay.

Harry broke. His entire body was hit by a shockwave and he tried to keep it inside, but he couldn't. He sobbed his heart out into her backside, for how long, he couldn't have guessed. It was apparent that she had fallen asleep some time ago, softly snoring, but Harry remained awake for hours, holding onto her as tightly as he could.

A strange, in one single moment, had shown him more kindness than anyone he knew.

He felt... relief. He never thought he would have cried harder than he had when he felt fresh air enter his lungs after being stuck alone in the mine. It wasn't until the faintest of sunlight filtered through the window when his eyes finally fell, a dimly lit room the last he saw before he fell into his deep slumber.

The dreams in his sleeping visions were horrid, flashbacks of being stuck in dark tunnels, running and running and running, only to find nothing but the faces of the deceased whose bodies were trapped forever. An image of himself appeared, covered in head to toe in blood, wild eyes unseen, a pickax, dripping with liquid.

"Kill them."

When he awoke, sunlight was settled directly on his face, stirring him from the deepest sleep he'd had in the longest time.

As he came out of the sleepy vibe, he realized that the woman wasn't next to him anymore, panic escalating inside of his chest. He awkwardly stumbled out of her bed, struggling to get his pants onto his hips before quickly going downstairs, trying to prepare himself for the worst.

To his surprise, the woman was making a meal, the smell of cooked vegetables wafting around the room. When she noticed him, she smiled and greeted him. Was he still... dreaming?

She offered him food and he accepted, hoping that if this were a dream, then it would be nice if he could sleep just a bit longer and enjoy a scene of normalcy. The woman joined him after preparing her own plate, and for a moment, Harry wanted to pretend that she was his woman, sharing a normal routine, eating together at the table. Somehow, it made him feel a pang of sadness.

Harry spoke up, expressing his gratitude with sincerity. She was a very kind woman and she would make a lucky man or person very happy someday. He watched her as she rose, taking the empty plates to wash them.

He found that his eyes wouldn't wander off away from her as she continued her tasks, somehow that feeling of wanting and sadness prodding at his heart. At least he got to hold her, in a small way, even if it was during his... mental breakdown.

The woman turned to him, catching his gaze, his name leaving her lips, so softly. So sweetly. A pang of ache made his chest feel tight. Please don't say my name like that. I know I can't have you. It can't and won't happen, he thought in his silence.

But to his completely and utter surprise, the woman offered her own home as a place that he could stay, if he so wished. She did acknowledge that it was highly unusual as an offer, because he basically broke into her home... He figured she was giving him a little bit more kindness with a meal, but then would ask for him to depart immediately. That was his plan. He couldn't stay, it would be wrong.

There was no way that he could do that to her. Despite his brain saying yes, yes, yes, stay here, his voice answered her with the opposite, telling her that he couldn't do it, he couldn't take advantage of her more than he already had. Harry found that he kinda really liked her and he didn't want to impose on her any longer out of respect.

Yet she surprised him even more, that beautiful voice of hers, pleading that she, of her own volition, would like for him to stay, reminding him that he did tell her that if she asked nicely, he may do as she asked.

He chuckled. A secret wish in his mind played out in his imagination, imagining kissing her, holding her close. He couldn't do that, but he could be around her a little longer and that was more than enough. It had been such a long time since he had felt any kind of warm emotion like that, a genuine smile, directed at him.

So, he accepted, thanking her for her kindness, once again. All she had asked of him was that he didn't wear his gas mask again, a funny request for him, but it wasn't something he needed. He held onto it because it was his final lifeline. He felt connected to it.

"I don't even know your name," he uttered his thoughts aloud, but before he could go on to ask for it, she gave it to him on her own. The most lovely name he had ever heard, finding himself becoming more and more drawn into her.

Harry had found a home. Permanently, he wasn't sure. All he knew was that despite the terrible events he had gone through, he had found the tiniest bit of relief in an old house in the outskirts of a small town.

It was a night he would never forget.

Yet, despite so...

Something hungered inside. Something like pain, anger and hatred, doused his soul made of violent flames. Something inside became an itch that couldn't be scratched. A thirst for revenge.