#i left creepypasta anyway WHY WOULD I CARE

[sanityshorror]

📷📸

Aaaand... Thank you slimebeast for being so stupid and unable to help yourself.. That you proved you've been stealth stalking me online for over a year 🤣 bro got caught in 4k 📷📸 screen caps below cut

Tormentalist is his reddit user name and he's the head mod of r/creepypasta, you can fact check yourself ↓

Slimebeast/Mr. Wolf, when he realizes he played himself:

(also, thank you for banning me from that subreddit 😭 /gen)

I've been laughing all day /gen 🤣

UPDATE: he replied

Pisstopher I literally forgot you existed until.. May. I have you blocked on every platform. I repeatly tell you too GO AWAY. MF YOU ARE THE ONE WHO HAS BEEN STALKING ME OVER A YEAR. ALL BECAUSE MY GAY LITTLE DRESSMAKER IS WILDLY MORE RELEVANT THAN ABANDIND BY DIDNY IN 2023-- AND I LEFT CREEPYPASTA. I am dead serious, that is the actual reason he began having a problem with me.

[garden-of-mancers]

Do you have any examples of when you would want to send out an imaginary friend?

I do! I don't have any suggestions for a specific time to send an IF out, (I'd usually send one out overnight or for a few days, just whenever I felt the impulse to do so), but I do have examples for why you'd do it. Also, most of these suggestions are based in magic and witchcraft-flavored spirituality, so I understand if this stuff is really Not relevant to everyone.

A couple specific examples I can think of are as follows:

If you want them to become more autonomous or eventually leave you for good, sending them out is good practice. I know autonomy is more of a goal in traditional tulpamancy, but in my experience, having an IF who's done a few tasks unsupervised makes lucid dreaming with them a bit easier? In this case, sending them out is like a practice exercise; it's just one of the many activities you can do to increase their ability to act alone.

If you have some kind of mystical or non-material thing you want your IF to retrieve for you. Maybe you accidentally left another imaginary friend at an outing. Send your IF out to go get them! Does your IF come from another land where they have unique items? Send your IF out to go bring you some! (And you might spend their time away crafting the actual items for them to give you when they return.) If you've lost an item, there are many superstitious solutions to help you find them faster. Some I've heard of are astral projecting to look for the item, visualizing yourself finding it or having it, and saying the name of the item and sticking a sewing pin in a couch cushion. Well, why not send your IF out to look for the item? Who knows, it might turn up once they've returned. (And if it does, you can say your IF told you where to find it or that they put it there.)

If you just want to be alone. If you're doing a ritual or meditation that requires solitude, (something like the hide and seek alone creepypasta is the only thing I can think of off the top of my head lol), or if you're burned out socially and you need to make sure you stay alone, send them out. Sometimes when I'm in a bad place mentally and want to fight with everyone, it was nice to tell the one person I could control "We need some space" and let her vacation halfway across the world for a bit. If you think about them while they're gone, you can remind yourself that they're at the lake or whatever. And if they pop back in anyway, you can always say, "Hey, aren't you supposed to be at the lake?"

One psychological perk of having an IF is that you have a degree of control over them that you cannot exert over other people, pets, or headmates (if you're a system). I'm not saying this in a "you're my servant and you have to do what I say" kind of way; just that being able to create something, decide their appearance and traits, and have them come and go at your desire gives an IF's creator a level of autonomy and control that can be beneficial to your mental health. As an action, sending an IF out has the benefit of a caring act (packing, walking them to and from bus stop) AND asserting control over your environment. Hence: easy mental health hack.

Yes, I get that you can *technically* just make your IF disappear or stay in your headspace/inner world/wherever IFs go when they're not currently interacting with you. However, I prefer having near-omnipresent IFs. I'm unemployed and housebound, so it's not obtrusive for them to be there hangin out 24/7. So, whenever I get overwhlemed or DO want some alone time for more than a few hours, why not turn my IF's absence into a game or a part of their lore and experience?

And my final reason:

Just to let them go on an adventure! Honestly, I only started doing this because I had a travel journal that I never filled. I'm too disabled to travel now, so I would just send my old IF out to various locations and then write her adventures in the journal instead lol. It was a really cute journal! I wasn't gonna waste it lol.

-♥️-

(Sorry if this was overexplained or sounded patronizing. I am an overexplainer over text; if someone asks for clarification, I want to make SURE you get your answer the second time 'round 😂)

TL;DR: Sending an IF on an adventure by themselves can make them more autonomous, give them an active role in various magic spellwork, and provide psychological benefits for both the IF and the creator.

[frogzzai]

Pure

Overhaul x Quirkless!Reader

Send in requests I have no motivation :'( (I write for MHA, Creepypasta, Slashers, Demon Slayer, JJK, Harry Potter, Rick and Morty, Fantastic Beasts, Winx)

Warnings: Abuse (from family), Bullying, no pronouns mentioned/ no appearance or description of reader mentioned (I don't think?)

Being quirkless in this world wasn't easy, you were part of the minority of the population which led to all sorts of bullying. You weren't really sure why, the only life this effected was yours. You've endured this all your life so you didn't often let comments get to you, but everyone has moments of weakness.

Today had been a particularly nasty day with people bugging you left right and centre, all you wanted to do was go home and sleep it off, although, you knew that wouldn't happen straight away. Both your parents were well respected heroes, with powerful quirks. The rest of your siblings and most of your extended family had pro hero-worthy quirks. Except you. You were the anomaly, the one who brought shame to your bloodline. For a while, after realising you didn't have a quirk, your parents tried to keep it away from the publics eye, not wishing for their reputation to be ruined. See, your parents were the sort of 'heroes' who were only in it for the money. They didn't really care about saving others, that's why they had no problem berating you on the daily and getting physical.

This is why you decided to take an alternative route home, not sure if you'd bother going back at all. After a while, you realised you were lost. You had only just moved over to Japan, the hero payouts being higher here then back in your home country. You still weren't fluent in Japanese, yet you could hold a basic conversation. Reading still proved difficult, and so you couldn't use signs to help you navigate. Wanting to test your luck, and get to somewhere you were familiar with, you went up behind a group of girls.

'Excuse me, where am I?' You said, you didn't mean to phrase it like you'd never been to Japan before but you couldn't do detailed sentences.

The girls turned around and, to your horror, turned out to be some of the ringleaders of your bullying problem.

'Oh, what's that? Don't tell me you're stupid as well as quirkless. What are you doing here anyway? This is my neighborhood and I don't want you plaguing it. Quirkless people are useless, what are you going to do in life? Almost every job requires a quirk and even if you managed to get one, you couldn't hope to get paid higher than minimum wage.' The middle one sneered.

'Please, I only asked for d-di-d-,' You panicked, forgetting the translation of direction.

'D-d-d-, cat got your tongue? You can't even speak Japanese properly. You really are useless!' Your mistake seemed to humor the girl as she held up her hand. 'Why don't I show you what your missing out on?' Her fingers merged together and changed into a massive claw. Instead of standing there like an idiot, you made a run for it. Just because you were quirkless, didn't mean you couldn't read the room.

You made it down a few blocks before your legs were taken out by some sort of spinning wheel, possibly another one of their quirks.

'You really thought you'd get far, huh?' The girl with the claw laughed and took your arm. She lightly scraped your arm before slicing it right down the middle, a scream ripped from your throat, or at least tried to. You voice was completely gone, the last quirk? You've already seen two, this must be the third. No matter how much you tried, no sound would come out. They shoved you up against the wall and you sort of slumped against it. It looked like she was about to strike again, but it looked like she had a second thought. Her and her goons took their leave. More like legged it, a hero? An officer? You didn't bother to get up, just sat their, head leaning to the side, zoning in and out repeatedly.

Someone stood in front of you. The one thing that stood out was his shoes. They were oddly clean, like he'd put them on for the purpose of standing before you. He got down on one knee to get a better look. You flicked your eyes over to him, he had really pretty irises. They were a nice shade of gold, certainly unique. His plague mask freaked you out a bit but you didn't think on it much, could be down to allergies. You knew you looked awful, your eyes must've been puffy and red from crying and your arm looked awful. You weren't the prettiest sight at the moment but you weren't too sure if that's what had him looking so disgusted.

'You couldn't defend yourself? Those quirks were pathetic.' He said, mocking you. Clearly unaware of your situation.

You weren't too sure how to respond to that, but, you decided to bite the bullet and come clean. Not sure how to form the sentence, you simply uttered, 'Quirkless.'

His eyes widened a bit as realisation dawned on him. He took your arm, the one that wasn't injured, and pulled you up with him, taking you with him. You didn't bother to fucus on your surroundings, just basking in the fact you hadn't ended up with more injuries. The next time you brought yourself back to reality you were in the cleanest med bay you had ever seen. You couldn't see anything that would make it imperfect. The odd thing about this was, there were no other patients, and it was dead silent. The man that you'd seen earlier was standing over you.

'Are you really quirkless?'

You nodded, not feeling all too talkative. He seemed content with that though, and gently straightened out your injured arm, you winced a bit. He noticed this but couldn't do much to help you, as he began cleaning and disinfecting the wound. Despite the burning pain, you kept quiet, still not sure if he was a friend or foe. Once the wound was steralised he wrapped it up, not too loose and not too tight. He must be a trained doctor then?

You looked up and took him in properly for the first time. You'd be lying if you said you didn't find him attractive. Although, you had to admit the colour contrast on his coat didn't do him any favours.

'You're not from around here, are you?' He asked.

You were startled by his question, and gave him a weary look.

'I mean, you didn't seem like you knew the place very well when I found you. You were looking around as if searching for a familiar face when those girls had you pinned.' His words were difficult to understand, he spoke at a decent pace yet his sentences were complicated to you, and drawn out. You took out the words you did know and tried to translate what he said. You assumed he was asking if you knew where you were, or something along the lines.

'No. I live a few blocks over. I only recently moved here, I'm not from Japan.' You said.

'That explains your way of speaking, your sentences are short and basic.' He pondered, you knew he didn't mean it like this, yet you couldn't help but feel degraded. You tried your best learning Japanese but it was difficult, especially when you moved here without any knowledge of the language whatsoever. He seemed to notice your crestfallen look and apologized, sitting down beside you. He put an arm round your shoulders and gently rubbed his thumb up and down.

'Why have you been so nice to me? Do you normally pick up injured strangers from the street, is this a long drawn out plan to murder me?'

He chuckled a bit, amused by how serious you sounded. 'No, I helped you because you aren't sick. You aren't riddled with the disease people have normalized. You don't have a quirk, you're pure.'

[existedwithoutyourpermission]

To Kill, or Be Killed.

CREEPYPASTA X FEM!READER (GENERAL FANFICTION) ❝ Reader finds herself in a situation, that left her lost in a forest. Getting lost in it, it might leave her to her demise as she promises something that might risk herself, even. It was up to her to kill, or be killed.��� WARNINGS: Profanity (A small bit!)

A/N: Well, i never expected to actually be back in this fandom. But i will happily go ahead and give content. Mostly aimed for the females, sorry male people out there... just pretend reader is your name, of course. EDIT A/N: Added new stuff. Lore increases. | PROLOGUE |

You really shouldn't fucked up this time. You really shouldn't have.

"Death Forest". It... was only 1 mile away from your place. You were getting chills up your spine as you passed by it. You were new at that time, that was only a month ago. As you continued to pass it, your curiosity grew only bigger and bigger as time passed. The stories about it made you want to meet these creatures that are most definitely not real. Slenderman that, Ticci Toby this, Eyeless Jack here, Ben drowned there... But Slender Man was one that you seemed to have a glance one time. You were not sure if your eyes are deceiving you or not, but you were sure that thing... it was real. It was how as they described him. That thing never had eyes to begin with (most probably) but it felt as if he glared daggers at your form. It drove you mad. Feeling watched. Being driven to the edge of your own sanity, paranoia. Fear increased as you saw him more and more often. Your friends knew this, of course. It wasn't that they hated you now and think your weird. Of course not, they are trying their best to make you feel safe and you thank them. You are currently at your house with those few of 3 friends, playing truth or dare after cleaning the party for your 18th birthday. "Reader, i dare you to go to the Death Forest." The brunette with the name of Ruby said. "Hey, this is her birthday Ruby, not her death day! I don't think she would like that anyways. She'll get killed. That's not very good... Its not a joke." The brother of Ruby, Kyle had said, scolding the female. Her brother looked to you and found yourself thinking about the dare. "But its a dare, come on, do it Reader!" Laura, a red haired girl, said. Your friends Ollie and Ruby chant ; 'Do it!' You sigh as you looked at Kyle. … "Ok. I'll do it." You stood up. "Reader. No, don't let their words get stuck to you. Please don't." Kyle said in a serious tone. "Reader, you know you can't do that! You'll get lost!" He worriedly said. "That thing had been haunting my curiosity. Who cares if those things weren't real? All fiction? Something to keep them... away from something we weren't supposed to look for or find in the first place. I want to know what is in there. So starting tonight, I'll pack up and go. And what about Slender Man? I've told you both so many times! That fucking guy had been haunting me ever since I moved here. I want answers. I won't say no for an answer." You said with a serious tone. They simply stared in a mix of awe and fear. "Well? Why are you two just staring?" You stood up and pushed them out your room. "Shoo, shoo! Don't snitch or I'll literally bring you with me to that entrance to nightmares." You threatened. "Well-" Ollie was cut off with you shushing him.

"What?! But-" You shut and locked the door in their faces. Whatever they said, had been muffled. They loudly groan in annoyance and walk down and get out the house. With great determination, you went around your room to gather supplies. Lucky for you, your mother and father had been somewhere for a week, trusting you to the house.

[orange-waterfalls]

G-Bots (TM)

Googleplier (x4) x viewer!reader

ty anon for the request!

A/N: Funny story! I am no longer physically capable of writing normally! I tried so hard to be normal and just veered off into SCP/Cryptid viewer territory because I like expanding on the idea that the viewer is Not Human! Anyways, you’re hanging out with the Googles. That is it. Nothing is wrong. You do not recognize the bodies in the water haha anyways I think I like went a little creepypasta-esque at the end there but it’s fine I think probably. It’s fine. Might be a little weird in terms of story, but i think this was more focused on world building to me. Probably seen as more platonic than romantic, but see it however you wish. Enjoy!

Word count: 2.5k

G-Bots (TM)

You wheezed just a bit as you sped through wherever-the-fuck you were. Sure, maybe that was a bad idea. Sure, Dark was a little bit threatening and SURE, you were supposed to be back by now, and the fact that you weren’t back with Mark trying to convince him NOT to split up was the tiniest bit problematic. You weren’t even sure this was a building? Were you in the void? Goddammit, not again…

You stopped, concluding that this was bullshit and you did not want to do it right now. You bent over, hands on your knees and took deep breaths. You stared into the emptiness for a bit, then looked around for a moment, just trying to figure things out. You needed to reassess. It was basically one big, long hallway with random twists and terms every few meters. You’d always end up back at the paintings of… them… and knew you’d gone too far. You did that over, and over, and over again. At this point you thought Dark had just forgotten about you. You took a deep breath in and let it out. You stood up straight and looked up at the paintings. You heard their voices echo through your head a bit. You squeezed your eyes shut and your head twitched.

“You’re alright… you’re ok… cool it…” You whispered to yourself. Deep breath in, deep breath out. Meditate. Think.

You looked on either side of the hall and, for the first time, you noticed doors extending down into the void and not stopping. You let out a breath. You felt a slight sense of dread. Something was telling you not to enter the rooms. Some little voice in the back of your head that sounded suspiciously like Mark. But, hey, what else were you gonna do?

“Ok… do i want to enter the door on the left or the door on the right?” You asked yourself. You paused to think about it. After a few seconds you felt yourself jerk forward a bit. Your brain felt staticy and you felt compelled to the left. You turned the knob and opened the door slightly. Immediately you heard music that might be in an SCP game, and a voice that sounded suspiciously like “do you recognize the bodies in the water?”. You were hoping no, and you bailed before you had a chance to look. You ended up almost exactly in your previous position in the hall. Your brain felt fuzzy again, and this time you gravitated to the right. You opened the door just a little, maybe to see what was inside, but again you heard the SCP ambiance.

But this time it was from behind you. So, like any smart person, you swung the door open, slammed it behind you and did your best to lock it. But there was no lock. So you stood. Waiting. Nothing happened.

Of course nothing happened. Why would anything happen? Dark wouldn’t want you to get hurt… probably. This was his domain. Probably. If you were alive, it’s because he wanted you to be. If you were in this room, it’s because he wanted you to be.

Speaking of: Where the hell were you?

You turned around to look behind you. In the blank white room there was a single grey couch with all 4 Google androids sitting on it. Apparently they were recharging, because they hadn’t noticed you standing there and also they were plugged into an outlet in the wall. You hadn’t considered that they had to physically plug into something to charge up, but the thought made you snort.

Bad idea.

All of their eyes snapped open at once, revealing the glow of their assigned colors. They all stood up and began walking towards you in unison. You felt a slight sense of dread. Even so, you tried to grab the doorknob, the one that apparently was no longer there, and cursed under your breath when you could only feel the smooth wall behind you. The androids stopped, staring at you. You cleared your throat.

“Hey…” you laughed nervously, “So, uh, funny story, actually-”

“You are not supposed to be here,” The original Googleplier, Blue, stated.

“Well, see, that’s where this whole thing started, um, see, Mark wanted to split up-”

“No human is allowed inside of this room, and not you, either.”

“Well-” You stopped, processing what he said, “Wait. ‘Either’? I’m human.”

“No, you’re not,” Google Green said. You wanted to be offended, but you were more confused.

“What do you mean? I’m human!” You argued.

“What color’s your hair?” Red asked with a mean smirk on his face. You opened your mouth to respond, and an amalgamate of voices saying “BROWNBLACKBLONDEWHITERED” came out. You slapped a hand over your mouth.

“... what the hell was that?” Your muffled voice whispered. Well, you thought it was probably yours.

“What’s your eye color?” BROWNGREENBLUEAMBERYELLOW exited your being before you could even try to answer.

“Do you have any pets?” That one just ended with a computer error sound from you.

“... huh.” You dropped your shoulders a little. The revelation probably should’ve upset you more.

“What are you doing here?”

“I… do not recognize the bodies in the water.” You explained.

“Ah, I see. Darkiplier would want you to not die, therefore you may stay.”

“Ha. Wow. Who knew the Googleplier androids-”

“G-Bots.”

“... what?”

“We are legally not allowed to use the name ‘Google’ anymore. We are now G-Bots.”

“... legally.”

“We were discontinued. And sold. And signed a contract.”

“So does that mean I can’t call you Google anymore?”

“No, that is simply my name. The name of us as androids, however, is now G-Bots.”

“Ok. What about them?” You pointed to the other three.

“Yellow is Oliver, Green is Lee, Red is Elliott.”

“And you’re just Google?”

“They’ve been trying to change my name to Gregor. I deeply dislike it.”

“It’s a good name.” Oliver suggested, smiling.

“Means vigilant.” Lee shrugged.

“Don’t be a pussy, Greg.” Elliott adopted a shit-eating grin as he leaned a little closer to Google.

“You can do… whatever you wish. Just do not be like them, DA.” Google instructed through gritted teeth.

The room began to shift color and expand. The couch was still grey in the center, but there were now four sections of each of the colors. The yellow section was filled with flowers, with a laptop on a desk next to a switch and a little Vector robot sitting by on the windowsill that showed a colorful meadow with bees buzzing to and fro. It glitched for a moment, so you knew the window wasn’t real. The green section had large houseplants and looked a bit like a greenhouse, and had an Xbox hooked up to a TV in the corner and seemed to have a view of a lake in the faux-window. The red section had miscellaneous wires and computer parts and lights here and there, looking like a fire hazard, and a PC on a table, while the window showed what appeared to be space. Google’s section was absolutely spotless, not a single thing anywhere, apart from a tiny skateboard next to a PS4 in the corner, and the window showed computer code.

“Wow.” You said. You might be stuck here for a while, so you might as well enjoy it.

Though you wondered who DA was. -- You hate to say it, but you had a favorite G Bot. It was kind of like having a favorite child, in your mind. You felt like they somehow knew that you had a favorite, but you didn’t know why.

Oliver was the sweetest by far, immediately going to make you as comfortable or entertained as possible while you were with him. He asked you if you wanted to watch something, if you wanted to play a game, if you were hungry, etc. It was kind of like going over to a friend’s house for the first time. He was enthusiastic to the point where he was shaking with anxiety over wanting to make you happy. You thought he didn’t get many visitors and maybe that was why. He showed you his flowers, and the bees, and a small painting in the corner, hoping for  validation. His glowing eyes seemed to dull when you moved on to the next section, but said you’d visit him again. That did help, but he turned away sadly and went to water his flowers.

Lee seemed as though he couldn’t care less if you were there. He told you where everything was and that you could do whatever. If you asked for help, he would stop what he was doing and help you. Once you understood, he immediately resumed his previous task. He was a bit cold, like Google, but in a “I am very busy but I am still here if you need me” sort of way. He played a game or two with you, having a preference for the puzzle games more than anything else. Puzzle horror, more specifically. If there was a shooting part, he immediately shoved the controller into your hands, saying he didn’t want to do that part. When you left, he simply continued with his work without a goodbye.

Elliott tried so hard to ignore you for the longest time. You could hear him scoff and growl anytime you made any sort of noise. You were self conscious at first, but you came to understand that he was just an asshole. You started on a game, playing for a few minutes, and felt the red couch sink next to you because he had sat down next to you. If he thought you sucked (which he did) he would snatch the controller from you and finish whatever you were doing before giving it back. He refused to say anything or help you, either. He’d just make rude noises and walk away occasionally before coming back. When you left, he seemed a lot angrier than he had before, and wouldn’t say goodbye to you. He turned away with a huff and started pressing random buttons on the controller.

Google was by far the least interested in anything you had to do. You sat on the couch next to him, and he didn’t move an inch. You sat there for a bit, waiting, but he did not move. You stood up, walked around, messed with a few things, attempted to play a game or two. Google didn’t move. You pulled up the Gamer ChairTM and sat directly in front of Google, arms crossed. You sighed. Finally, he looked up at you.

“Is there something you need?” He asked in that monotone voice of his.

“I’m bored,” you said.

“Go to one of the others,” He closed his eyes.

“What are you doing?” You asked, curious.

“That is not-” He sounded exasperated.

“Hey Google, what are you doing?” You interrupted like the little shit you were

“Currently, this G Bot system is recharging its battery. This G Bot is at: 69%.” He shifted to a purely robotic voice.

“Haha nice.”

“This G Bot’s primary objective is to answer questions as quickly as possible. Would you like to ask a question?”

“Yes. What do you like to do, Google?”

“I enjoy answering your questions. Do you have any more?”

“What company owns you?”

“G-Bots were recently sold by the Google company to Warfstache Incorporated.”

“Wilford has a company?”

“Warfstache Incorporated is co-owned by Wilford ‘Motherloving’ Warfstache and Damien-Dami-Da-Darkiplier.” He glitched while answering.

“Who’s Damie-”

“The Corporation owns shows such as ‘Markiplier TV’, ‘Warfstache Tonight!’, and ‘Hire My Ass’. Do you have any more questions?”

“Do you pass the Turing Test?”

“Wondering if you have to treat me with basic decency?” He shifted back to his less robotic, but still monotone, voice.

“No. Just wondering.”

Neither of you spoke again for a while. He did scold you when you tried to move the couch with him still on it, so… progress. -- You were beginning to suspect that Google didn’t like you very much.

The blue one. Google. The other ones liked you. Oliver ranted to you for a whole half hour about different kinds of bugs and the hierarchy of bees. The queen is assassinated when she is bad for the hive, it would seem. Lee made you play Resident Evil with him because he didn’t like the fighting, but he liked figuring out what to do. You frantically passed controllers back and forth a lot. Elliott basically did speedruns of several games, you watching intently the whole time. He seemed to like the attention and actually smiled at you whenever he finished one.

But Google didn’t like you. He ignored you, and told you not to touch anything, and scowled whenever you asked him personal questions. Not like “what’s your sexuality” type of personal questions. More like… “what’s your favorite color and why is it blue” sort of questions. He didn’t like them either way.

But the others liked you, and that was pretty neat.

You still wanted Google to like you though.

“Hey Google,” he perked up with the little “do-do!” noise, “Can you guys go into your different sections?”

“All G-Bots have the ability to pass into other’s color-coordinated sections,” He answered politely.

“Why don’t you?”

“We don’t want to.”

“Do you get along?”

“Yes.”

“Then why don’t you?”

“Celine dislikes when colors are mismatched.”

“Who’s-”

“I’m sorry, this G Bot needs to charge.”

“But you haven’t been-”

“This G Bot needs to charge.”

“Come on, if you--”

“This G Bot needs to charge.”

You quieted and plopped into the chair. You stared at Google. His eyes flickered for a moment before they closed. -- The other Bots knew who Celine and Damien were, they just weren’t telling you. Their eyes always flickered when you asked, but they wouldn’t tell you.

You threatened not to play with Lee anymore. He said he could play on his own. You could see that he didn’t want to. You played Alien: Isolation. His eyes seemed duller.

You threatened not to watch Elliott’s speedruns. He said he didn’t care. You could tell that he did. You watched him play Hollow Knight. His eyes seemed duller.

You threatened not to listen to Oliver’s rants. He looked terrified, but he said that was fine. You could tell it wasn’t. You begged him to tell you. He looked sad.

“Who’s Damien?” You asked softly, stepping towards him.

“I can’t tell you,” He shifted back.

“Who’s Celine?” You stepped forward.

“I can’t tell you.”

“Who’s DA?”

All of the G-Bots stopped what they were doing. You heard static and felt like you were being watched. -- You looked up at the color on the outside of the museum.

You were doing something. You were doing something.

Were you robbing this place? It felt like you were. What happened to Mark? What happened… to you?

You stared at the doors, feeling a slight sense of dread. Something in the back of your head was telling you this wasn’t right. To go home. To…

--

“Ignorance is Bliss. Try Again?”

[hit-me-with-a-ladle]

Ch. 8 Creepypastas x Fem! reader

Sorry I've been gone for so long. My grandfather died a month ago and I wasn't in the right mindset to write. But I'm back and ill do my best. Thank you all for your patients. Anyway, enjoy<3

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

As the week progressed, the girl found that it was the slightest bit easier to read through Masky's facade. Though that did not mean that she could thoroughly read him quite yet, she made it a challenge that eventually she would. Masky himself became lenient at first as to mind her injuries. But the moment she started to heal, it was all back to the ruthless nature of his work. Finally, when the week ended, she got informed that someone else was going to teach her. That person turned out to be Ben, the blond-headed boy that seemed too eager to meet her.

An early sensation lurked in the air the moment she woke up, groggily walking to the bathroom and taking a well-deserved shower. The feeling of all of the previous days' dirt and grime washing off her punctured flesh was refreshing. Her mind was finally clear, able to freely think and dwell on her current predicament without any outside interference. The hot water trickled down her naked body, soothing her as she thought of any way she could escape. But no matter how hard she thought, deep down she knew that the only way she could truly leave was to stay a little longer to devise a plausible plan.

Sadness overtook her body, hot tears streaming down her already wet face intertwining with the water droplets from the showerhead. She'd been able to withhold her tears for a while now, not wanting to give those bastards the satisfaction. But as her current position set in her mind once more, she couldn't hold it in. It was like a never-ending loop. After being rudely introduced and forced to spend a week being trained to the bone by two different killers, she had to repeat the process with another. It felt like her own personal hell.

Feeling the scalding hot water turn cold was an indicator that it was time to get ready. Not giving a damn if she was late. Stepping out of the shower with a huff, she looked at herself in the full-body mirror. Steam covered its surface from head to toe. Though, no matter how blurry, the rough outline of all the large scars, cuts and a few red bruises that littered her body were still very much visible. The feeling and texture of her once somewhat clear skin was now a distant memory in her mind. Slowly tracing all of the scars with the tip of the rugged fingers she winced when she made contact with a few of the most recent injuries.

Getting dressed in the same greyish jump-suit she has been washing and wearing for the last few days, she went to eat breakfast. But before leaving her bedroom she looked at the nightstand, there laid the old pocket watch he gave her. For some reason, he didn't want to take it when she offered it back. Shrugging her shoulders she put it in her right pocket and headed downstairs. Reaching the kitchen, noticing that Masky must have left early. Not paying any mind to his disappearance she carried on with her day. Eating the meal she prepared for herself. Sitting there on the dining table, in total silence, patiently staring at the clock. Ben still hadn't arrived. He was already ten minutes late, to begin with, which was a significant tonal shift from Masky, who was extremely punctual and despised tardiness. After what felt like hours, a loud crash was heard that made the girl's ears perk up as she ran to the living room. Their laying spread eagle, on the front of the old television, was none other than Ben.

" What happened, how did you get in here?" The girl quickly said while helping him up. " Dammit, forgot how small the damn television was." He said under his breath, ignoring her previous question. Getting on his feet he brushed himself off giving the girl a better look. Unlike the other two men, he was significantly shorter, 162 to 165 cm or 5'4-5'5 feet tall. Medium length golden hair under a long green hat and sharp pointy elf-like ears. His pale white skin looked ceramic, almost like a doll's and thin lips with a button nose. He seemed considerably young, but she assumed that he most likely was about eighteen years of age. Though, what caught her attention were his round black eyes that had a speck of red in them that acted as pupils. He was dressed as an elf, with his bright green tunic, forest green pants and leather belt neatly tied around his waist that held a small satchel type bag.

Looking in her direction he flashed her a creepy smile that showed off his white teeth. The girl didn't know how to react to his sudden action, as she felt discomfort all around her body, shifting her weight awkwardly she chose to ask him again. " How the hell did you manage to get in here without me hearing you?" " Well, I did the same thing I'm gonna' be teaching you today. Sorcery or magic. Whatever word floats your boat." " Magic? As in witchcraft, like spells and potions?" " Yup. I mean I know Jack already told you this so I don't know why you're so shocked." He snickered, it sounded distorted. " Yeah, I remember but I didn't actually expect-not that I didn't think that it would be magic-it is just that this is all so strange, I can't believe it." " Believe it, cuz I'm gonna' be teaching ya some spells. Follow me now out the back door." He spoke loudly, shaking his hands in a flamboyant manner.

Walking swiftly to the kitchen towards the back door. The girl was visibly confused as she followed suit. Why did they have to go through the back door, it was all quite strange. Stepping out, she noticed the rather large, wooden table a few meters in front of them. Its surface is covered in all kinds of trinkets, herbs and plants. " What's all of this for?" She said, approaching the table. "I got Masky to set it up before he left, we're gonna be needing some of this stuff so I can show you the ropes and basically help you understand the basics of making potions. A skill you'd need for survival." He answered while picking up a bunch of the items off the table and stuffing them in the bag. " Oh, what do we have here?" He said excitedly under his breath " Is it Raskovnik? My god it is. I know what i'll be teaching you first now, don't I. '' He started with a laugh as he made his way towards the trees. " Where are we going now?" " To the brewery. Do you really think you will be making risky positions in front of the cabin? You humans are actually the dumbest creatures."

The girl's face scrunched up in annoyance but still kept her mouth shut. She knew better than to try and argue with these people. Biting down on her tongue she got drawn in by the scenery like most times she was out in the forest. Autom was soon approaching so the wind had started to pick up the past few days, it made the multicoloured leaves on the trees dance as it passed. It calmed her as it passed through her body. Taking in a large breath she smiled and carried on behind Ben. Dogging trees and branches as there was no pathway in this part of the forest.

" Did you get the plant?" Ben spoke up after a while, cutting the calm silence. " Sorry, what?" " Were you the one that got the Raskovnik?" He repeated the question louder. " Oh, well yeah. I got it a while back as a part of my training with Masky." She replied quickly walking to his side. " Figures. Maskys is the type to make others do his dirty work." He muttered bitterly. But the girl was still able to hear it. " So you have a bad relationship with him?" " You could say that. Most of us do. The scumbag." The air started to tense. " I guess you could call him that. But he's not always that bad, he has his moments I guess." " Not that bad? Tell me, how did you manage to get that big ass gash on your neck." He harshly replied, pointing his leather-gloved hand to her neck. She quickly covered it and looked to the side. Not responding. " As I said, he's an absolute scumbag." " Well if it isn't stepping over a boundary, mind telling me why he's so bad." " Well, to begin with, he's a sadistic prick that only cares for himself. He broke into my house and stole some of the VERY rear herbs that took me YEARS to collect. And worst of all, he's the dog of The Operator." His face darkened when he mentioned The Operator's name. " The Operator? Whos that?" The girl quickly asked, lowering her hand and looking at him with a confused look on her face. " He's one of the most powerful beings to even exist. The embodiment of evil." " So like the devil?" " No, he's not the devil, the devil is a different being, but he's still terrifying." " Why do they call him The Operator then?" " Well, like. I don't really know how to explain this to you but, imagine this forest being a very large city. Y’know how every city has a mayor or someone in charge that leads it. Well, that's what The Operator really is. The Operator isn't his real name but a nickname given to him."

With that they finally stepped into a small grass filled clearing where in the middle, was a very small cottage covered in vines, plants and flowers. The old wood that it was made of was held up the multitude of plants, securing it firmly. The half-rounded door was nicely placed in the front, a yellow brick pathway leading to it, with a square window to the side. They quickly approached the door, the girl's breath taken by the beauty. The inside itself was small, shelves were on every side of the walks, each holding a plethora of books, trinkets, herbs and plants. It was relatively messy but still easy to walk in. A cauldron was in the middle of the room with a desk stacked with papers, pens, and scrolls.

Placing the Rascovnik and emptying his bag on the desk, Ben looked at the girl. " So let's begin I guess." He said walking to the medium-sized cauldron. " What are we going to do exactly?" She quickly asked as her eyes followed him, as he walked around the cottage collecting different ingredients and placing them on the desk. " Well, you're not going to be doing anything, just taking notes." Tossing a notepad at her. " While I prepare something and explain the different things you'll need to know." " Yeah that's great but am I going to be quizzed the same way Masky quizzed me because I need to know what I should expect." She said frantically, firmly grasping the notepad to her chest. " Nah, you're not. I don't do quizzes or tests, I like doing things spontaneously y'know. And plus taking notes will help you understand things more, so just write down herb and spell names, important details and whatever else will help ya remember. K?" " Ok, I guess." Anxiety began to dwell in her mind, as she looked around. " Readdy?" He said walking in front of the cauldron, giving her a slightly crooked reassuring smile.

[childish-ish]

kismet

pairing: michael myers x reader

soulmate au; soulmates that make choices for each other.

part two!

"Bro. I got this bitch ass pimple on my face - what should I do?"

soulmate chooses: let it do it's thing.

"What a bitch. When i meet my soulmate I'm gonna fucking punch 'em in the fucking neck." You sigh, then snicker right after - "If i can even reach them."

Usually, you start off your day with a huge huff of cocaine and a box of Kelloggs™ cereal with the milk with the purple lid. Just kidding! You don't eat Kelloggs, instead, you eat Lucky Charms! Mostly for the marshmellows. Anyways.

You get dressed. Having been naked and looking at yourself in the bathroom mirror, contemplating on whether popping the 3 pimples on your face - one above your eyebrow, very - not visible. Another on your cheekbone - the other on your nose. You popped the one on your nose and washed your face, yesterday, so two pimples.

Anyways. You dress in regular jeans, pull over a plain grey t-shirt over your head, and slip on some socks, then your sneakers, then a hoodie. You checked over yourself and decide you look hot as fuck, and step to your bed, pull off your phone from your charger, shove that bitch in your pocket - and leave.

soulmate chooses: take a bus to school.

"Awh! They care about me <33."

"Hm." You look over the choices you get to pick - buy a donut or have a balanced breakfast.

"Haha!" You laugh, clicking on the 'balanced breakfast'. "Homeboy gonna eat good tonight. Whether they fucking like it or not."

You exit your home, keys in your pocket, and a lollipop in your mouth. You totally forgot to the brush your teeth, but gurgled some mouthwash hoping it would be enough.

You jog towards the bus, enter said bus, and sat next to your friend.

"Hey, kiddo." She waved. Neon pink hair clashed with black hair as it fell over her left blue eye, a major contrast to her paper white skin. She wore a black hoodie with some red symbol, something to do with creepypasta, black pants with large rips, fishnet tights under, and regular ol converse. Red, to be exact. Converse Chucks, to be exact.

"Shut the fuck up, don't call me that." You pull out your phone and lean down, entering your password as the bus begun to move.

"Ah, babygirl, you know that turns me on, aha - " She bites her lip and rubs her hand together like she was rubbing in hand sanitizer.

"Ah, right. I love you."

"Ew." Cheesebird laughed. Some random ass nickname you gave her because she didn't like her name.

soulmate chooses; go to classes

"Ugh." You roll your eyes - had thought about skipping class.

You look over your choices. steal a car, or walk.

Well. You don't want your soulmates feet to hurt.. so. Steal a car.

After the bus pulls up to the school, you exit with Cheesebird. You're a Senior in highschool.

You enter first period. Homeroom.

You sit in your assigned seat, thankfully, next to Cheesebird. You two discreetly passed notes, never getting caught - only once by a substitute.

"Hey, so, i know a neat place to go trick-or-treating. You up for it?" Cheesebird asked, placing her Gir themed backpack next to her feet, under the piss yellow desk -

You shrug. The day carrying on, kind've. You're in fourth period. Gym, when Cheesebird asked you the question again.

"Honestly, I'm thinking of starting in tonight. I have this fucking weird ass bad feeling.." You rub your bare arms, feeling unusually comfortable in the red booty shorts the gym made you wear.

"I can respect that. After i get all my candy, I'm gonna dip over to your house, is that okay?" Cheesebird asked, fiddling with a lollipop stick. She ate the lollipop already, stealing it from someone's backpack because of her soulmates choice - so the stick acted as a candy cigarette of some sort.

"Yeah, that's chill. What are you gonna be?" You swing your legs back and forth. Ankles crashing against the bleachers, giving you a dull pain.

"I'm gonna be a goblin. You know, if i were to guess what you were going to be, you would be a fucking astomi. Cause like, I'm gonna be a goblin.. and you're basically a goblin.. and i don't like talking.. except like, with you." Cheesebird explained awkwardly. She begun to chew on her lollipop stick.

"Yeah, i got it." You chuckle.

soulmate chooses: apple, water, and chicken nuggets.

"Oh, sick." You nodded.

"Oh, did your soulmate choose something? What was chosen your majesty?" Cheesebird asked.

"I got chicken nuggets for lunch. Want them?" You ask, looking over the freshmen that chose to play volleyball on one side, and basketball on the other.

You turn to Cheesebird, watching her eyes peek up.

Her eyes flick to you, and she nods with a smile, "Thanks bro!"

"Ah, yeah." You breathe, "No problem."

You look over your choices. clever or chef's knife.

You make a look, furrowing your eyebrows and jerking your head back slightly before choosing chef's knife.

"Another? What'd you choose?"

"My choices were clever or chef's knife." You tell her with confidence.

"Holy shit - your soulmate is a cooker! Lucky.. mines a fucking idiot."

You snort. "Lucky you.. mine could also be a murderer." You shrug.

"Hot." Cheesebird wiggles her eyebrows at you. "Oh, dude! Remember that guy - Boogeyman of Haddonfield?"

"Yeah."

"Dude, they say he escaped some institution! They might cancel Halloween cause of his bitch-ass." Cheesebird rolled her eyes and leaned back.

"Ah, what a fuck. If it actually gets cancelled, you wanna come over and watch some movies? Maybe order some pizza?" You offer.

"Oh fuck yeah man! Thanks." Cheesebird laughed, clapping you on the shoulder once.

"No problem!" You say enthusiastically, punching Cheesebird on her bare upper arm.

"Ow! Fuck.. you whore." Cheesebird sucked in a breath.

You laugh, quieting down and patting ehr on the thigh. "Wanna go to the lockers? It's almost time to go. Like, 15 more minutes.." You say absentmindedly, gazing at the red blinking numbers.

"Oh yeah. Let's go." Cheesebird was ready to hop off. You count down to 3 to 1 and jump off the bleachers with Cheesebird, jogging across the court and entering the locker room.

soulmate chooses: wash face

I didn't even do shit, though? You shrug off the thoughts and get undressed after putting in the combination for your little locker. After shoving your gym clothes into said locker, you pull on your clothes, slipping on your shoes easily and picking up your backpack. You jog over to the bathrooms, go to the nearest sink, and splash your face.

You look up - the choices; grab a water or get a beer.

You choose water. Gotta stay healthy.

You wait by the gym doors for Cheesebird. And, hooray! She comes. Don't take that out of context.

Lunch speeds by. So do your classes. After school, you walk home with Cheesebird and say your goodbyes. You pull out your keys, inserting the key and unlocking the door.

You enter, closing the door behind you. You toss the keys on the stand next to the door and kick off your shoes, throwing off your backpack and jogging to the living room. You recieve a call from your mom. Saying that she was gonna be late. Maybe coming in around midnight or even later.

soulmate chooses: order pizza.

"hey cool."

And, you do just that. You call some pizza place with breadsticks, grab some money from your room and jog back downstairs. You watch Adam Sandler movies while you wait for the pizza.

The doorbell rings after 15 minutes of waiting. You jump up and run to the door. Opening it and seeing a cute pizza boy.

"Thanks." He salutes, recieving a tip from you.

You call back a 'no problem' and shut the door, placing the pizza on the table in front of the couch. You lie down, pulling a blanket over you.

soulmate chooses: take a nap.

You feel so.. tired now. Fuck it. Let's go to sl-

You awake. The T.V. off, lights out, and warm-ish pizza. You were obviously disoriented. You go to pull out your phone from your back pocket once you sit up.

The brightness blinds you - you quickly put it at a lower brightness.

You yawn, vision vlurry before it subsides and you quickly look over your notifications. A text from your mom 'hey honey, gona b stayin l8r than usual luv u'. You smile, rubbing your eyes and holding your phone with one hand.

You stand, flashing your flashlight. You drop your phone - gazing at the large figure in front of you.

"Who.. are you?" You take an anxious step back, you can feel a stream of cold sweat stream down the side of your head - from your temple. It was fucking disgusting. So.. so dark.

You see the glint from his hand - a knife. A knife. A knife. A knife. He has a knife. He has a knife. He has a knife. Run. Go. Run. Go. Go. Through the backdoor. Now. Fucking GO!

You turn on your heel and bolt through the living room and through the kitchen. Why did you even fucking ask that? 'Who are you' - like?? You don't know him, and he's in your house. Like?? You should've just pulled a knife. Just kidding! You would've been too fucking pussy to do that :\

You inhale and exhale heavily - otherwise known as breathing. You were really close to hyperventilating - but somehow, you slow down your breaths as you quietly slip through the backdoor.

All you wanted to do - you sob in your mind, was eat some fucking pizza - you heave, as you shuffle towards the backyard entrance, that lead to the front yard. And maybe watch some fucking pornhub.. all my plans.. ruined.

soulmate chooses: go back inside your house.

You choke. Eyes growing uncomfortably hot, your bottom jaw trembled as you clench your arms, hugging yourself. Was this - this fucking stalker your soulmate?

You did have control of your body as you calmly walk back through the gate. Your eyes well up, tears blurring your vision. You wipe the tears away and wipe them on your hoodie harshly. You trace therock trail that lead around the corner of your home.

You enter through the backdoor. Closing it behind you gently. You huff, and turn around.

You immediately make eye contact with large breasts that were covered by a dark blue fabric. A zipper in the middle and a single pocket.

"So.." You begin; voice cracking. You feel your face grow hot out of embarrassment. After clearing your throat and looking into the black holes of the mask that mocked a human face, covering the whole ass fuckin head of the tall, buff male, you instantly feel small. You rub your hands together, clenching your hoodie in your hands now.

"Uh.. what's uh - what's your name?" You come to a realization of how fucking stupid that was. Asking a large scary man what his name was - he's your soulmate! A part of you pleaded for some reason. Anyways, we live for the confidence.

You gawk at the man - wasn't he "Michael Myers? Killed - killed.. four teens back in -" you couldn't remember the year. All you could honestly think about the man that was looming over you threateningly. Where the FUCK was your mom?!?

He painstakingly slowly brought up a hand, and dropped it onto your shoulder. You feel tears well up in your eyes once more as you shake under his hold.

"H - hey.. aren't we uh.. soulmates? Sh - should you really be h - HOLDING me that tight?!" You squeak, now trying to pull away. "I'm - not fucking going anywhere - "

The Boogeyman brought up his other hand and let the hand fall on your other shoulder, the hold gradually getting tighter.

You could barely see his actual eyes, due to the not-so-bright moonlight. Despite this, you see some irises..

"I - i.. I go to school.. " You blurt, "I - I have a f - family."

He didn't respond. You get anxious quite quickly due to the circumstances. You feel your eyes well up as he fucking gripe you tighter before picking you up and throwing you over your shoulder like a dead body. His actions were clear - they said 'you aren't fucking getting away'.

He held you with one arm, caging you in over his shoulder. You sob softly, but couldn't help but admire his nice ass as he walked towards the front door.

what's to become of me?

You thought. You couldn't scream - could you?

You couldn't believe you missed Halloween for this shit. You could still see some kids - they would probably run away due to their fragility.

Fuck this. We are not fucking dying. We're soulmates. But what kind of fucking soulmates does this shit? I wish my soulmate was Adam Sandler.

michael: you the bitch thats been making HEALTHY decisions for me??

you: no..?

[shdwwlkrsblog]

Idk if there are any creepypasta fans are here on tumblr but if there are any let me know you still exist bc why not

Anyways a story here

Warnings : blood , murder , death , swearing , mental illness , angst?

Jeff the killer x reader

Meeting an childhood friend

" 5 new victims with a smile carved in their face , police officer humbelbee ( i just needed a name) thinks it was the Jeff the killers work here " the woman in the tv said before the tv switched to a reporters camera who showed and officer and another interviewer " hello I'm live here we're the victims were killed with officer humbelbee who got a message for everyone living in y/t/n (your town name) " she said handing the microphone to the officer " hello and i need everyone to listen to me , this is the 3 time this week that Jeff the killer murdered people and we need to be extra careful because It doesn't seem like he's done . That's why I want everyone living in y/t/n and the towns near it to close all doors lock it as good as you can and block all the windows and stay inside , if you need to get food don't go out early in the morning or at night and never go alone , if you encounter Jeff the killer don't try to fight him and try to run to the next police station . He is too danger- " the black that now colored the tv interrupted him . You got enough you couldn't stand it anymore . Your old childhood friend jeffrey turned into a killing machine , killing all those innocent people . It was to much , it hurted but you tried to ignore it and looked at the clock at the wall showing 16:26 ' shit i wanted to get some food but now it's too late' you cursed yourself for not going earlier and walked into the kitchen checking your fridge but to your bad luck it was empty . ' do i really need to go now ?' you asked yourself feeling fear coming up in you 'what if he attacks me?' then a bit of hope ' what if he still knows who I am ?' but the hope was crushed when you came to the answer that he won't ' he ain't the same , he is crazy , a monster but not jeffrey' you thought a frown forming on your lips as the thought of jeffrey back then

"Hey y/n wanna meet after school ? " A male voice spoke behind you and you turned around to see Jeff standing there "sure jepp when are you free? "( Let's use jepp as the nickname you called him) you asked looking up at him 'how can he be so tall we are only 13?' you thought asking yourself if you were short or he was tall but we're in tripped by him punching you into the shoulder " hey I said I'm free at 1 pm " he laughed " you look like an idiot rn " and now he held his stomach bc of laughing " oh ok 1 pm then " you said , you didn't get what was going on but then you noticed liu coming up behind Jeff " oh I see the 2 love birds have fun " he joked earning a "no stop it" from both of you , you noticed your face heating up . Yep you had a crush on Jeff , a huge one but you didn't want to break your friendship so you keept quiet and brushed it off like it was nothing " hahaha okay well we need to go or we won't get our bus " you said trying to sound normal but liu noticed it and gave you his 'i see a bird in love ' glance but stopped when Jeff yelled a " what the fuck are you waiting for idiots?" And as response he got a " Jeff language you know mother will kill us if we swear " from liu " yeah whatever" Jeff yelled And ran towards you grabbed your wrist and pulled you to the bus station " com'on y/n we need to be faster than him " he yelled and liu and you laughed

(quick scenario from back then bc i wanna try to change my writing style to something good )

(end of scenario )

Years have passed since then , and you do still have a crush on him but not Jeff the killer , that monster . No you love the old Jeff . You shook your head trying to get that thought out of your head and looked at the clock 18: 19 ' i shouldnt spend that much time thinking and better get groceries ' you thought and wanted to slap yourself for wasting that much time but you figured out going now wouldn't waste more time and a self-slap would . You looked out of the window 'its 6pm and it's turning dark? Oh yeah it's winter' you thought as you walked quickly through your house grabbing the keys and some money . When you grabbed everything You looked at the clock again seeing only few minutes passed and you grabbed your selfprotection-knive 'bc i don't want to die ' you thought while stuffing it into your jacket . You made your way outside walking along the street only a few people were outside but the were walking quickly. Noone wanted to be caught by Jeff and get killed . After some minutes off walking to arrived at the shop and quickly got in and grabbed the food you wanted Payed and left the shop . When you left you got the feeling of someone watching you but you ignored it and just walked faster . When you walked pass a abandoned building someone aggressively trapped your arm and pulled you into it . The figure pressed you against a wall you wanted to move but stopped when you felt something cold and sharp at your throat and the figure started laughing in a deep and crazy voice . When you got a closer look you recognized the person , it was Jeff . But you got no time for that because he pressed the blade a bit stronger at your throat "jepp stop please" you begged and the figure immediately let you go . When he stuffed his knife away he asked "y/n!?" "Wait you still know who I am?" You asked surprised 'he remembers me does that mean he's still the old Jeff?' you thought happyness filling you "ofc how should I forget you ? Y/n i am so sorry for what happened but will you still be my friend?" He asked you hardly saw it but did he cry? But you tried to ignore everything that happened , all the people he killed . You loved him , you wanted to be by his side . You wanted to say yes but the sound of police sirens interrupted you . Jeff quickly picked you up and ran outside to the nearest forest ' since when did he become so strong?' you asked yourself while clinging at him and praying that he won't drop you . Jeff stopped when you both were far enough and set you down . "Are you ok?" He asked his voice filled with worry he was still the old Jeff for you , and you accepted him even if he was a murder . " Yeah and we are still friends jeff i don't care if you are a murderer i still love yo-" you stopped when you realized what you said and blushed , Jeff didn't say anything for a while " I'm okay if you don't love me just don- " your apologizing was interrupted by Jeff lips crashing into yours for a short time " i love you too y/n" he said and you guys kissed again

I'm not such a big fan of kissing but wanted to make a good and happy ending

Tell me if you liked it or not , the next few days (and if this story get some likes ._.) I'm going to try to be active and make more story's

Ask box open

[draganasimpsforjeff]

Hunting Dogs (proxies x reader) Chapter One

This is based on the story of mine on Quotev but due to it being labeled and now taking off index no one can see it unless searching my username so I figured I’d also post it on here cuz why not? Plus I like tumblr better anyways*shrug*

"Did you check the perimeter?" A dark haired man with a feminine mask questioned to his younger colleague who nodded in response. "A-all clear." That was what he expected out of the younger man. A simple straight answer. No one had time to have an explanation during a high stress leveled mission. A man's hair was clenched in the dark haired man's hand. A rag was shoved into his mouth, only letting him breathe through his nose while his eyes budged out in fear.

"Masky, you know what needs to be done. " A voice changer broke Masky out of his stare at the old man and back to his original partner, Hoodie. "I just want to take my time, after all..Boss never mentioned a deadline." He chuckles darkly, bending to the height of the old man.

"We don't need to bring attention to ourselves. This city is highly populated and we can't risk being caught. Get on with it." Hoodie forces his tone down, but trying to remain his point clear about how this was not a   game. They were not in the Slender forest or their usual hunting grounds.

This was an unfamiliar city with not that many hiding places. The dark alleys being their own source of protection.

"Syringe. " Masky held out his palm, waiting for the messy haired man to hand him what he requested. Toby reached into his pocket, careful not to accidentally drop it or prick himself with it. He hands it over and Masky grinned behind his mask. Hoodie looked around, scanning the area high and low with his eyes squinting every now and then to make sure no one was hiding in the dark before crossing his arms tightly and watched Masky.

"Okay, pops. I'm going to ask you some questions, but I'll need to take the cloth out of your mouth. No screaming, got it? If you did, I will not hesitate to use this." He held up the syringe, the dim light post, providing enough of it's source to give the liquid a shine. His grin grew wider, flicking it and turns his attention back to the man at his feet.

He nodded and Masky considered him for a moment, reaching down and takes it out. "Now. Tell me, Paul Densie. Why did you think it was smart to go looking for our kind?" he asks as his eyes never left the man's face. He swallowed, breathing shakily before choosing his words carefully. "It was not my choice. They were strict orders. I wasn't suppose to be taking up that case, you have the wrong man."

"We never have the wrong man." Masky snickered and grabbed the man's face. "And why was it so important for you assholes to go searching? Huh!? What was the fucking point?!"

"Masky be quiet you're go-"

"Shut the fuck up Hoodie, before I plunge this syringe into you instead of him. " Masky spat with venom, turning his attention back to the old man, taking a quick breath, looking back up at the man. "Now...answer the question. " He was glad that it was dark out so the hostage couldn't see the insanity that was brewing behind his eyes. He wanted nothing man then to wrap his large hands onto the bastards neck and squeeze till his head popped off.

"A f-few of our men have been filed as missing. We had some of our coworkers do some tracking and along with the timeline, it led us to the ones we suspect now. And once we find those bastards, you pricks will be done for!" A hard slap echoed from his face and Masky grabbed the guy's collar, bringing him close to his face. "You must be the dumbest person I ever met if you think your team can even come close to us. You will never find us. And we will make sure of that. We do whatever we need to to protect ourselves even if that means killing every. single. fucker. that. gets. in. the . way. We have our own strict orders to follow and we go through them. After all, we are just a bunch of hunting dogs." He grinned, stabbing the man in the chest with the syringe.

The man froze with his eyes bulging out, looking up at the dim light before falling down to the concrete beside Masky's leg.

A loud gasp caught their attention and they snapped their heads in the direction to see a girl with a work uniform on, most likely one of the local restaurants on the strip. One command made her break into a run, following her trace and leaving the alley.

"Here you go, Mr. Saka. Your usual." Y/N smiles at the middle aged man who came in here at least three times a week.  He was the regular's that you have gotten to known pretty well. You were still a newbie when it came to this job, but you made it one of your concerns to get to know people pretty well. You had a fresh start and you didn't want it to be like how your life was before moving. You saved enough money from your last job when you lived in a smaller town with your mom, but things were getting too bad at home that you went to school full time and a job. You were in senior year of high school and now you just worked full time at one of the well known restaurants in town.

It was actually the first place you applied to. The hourly pay wasn't great, but it was enough and plus you made tips. One of the upsides to getting to know people in a city like this, especially with regulars was that they paid you decently. And it was mostly always busy during the day with people rushing in for their break at work or tourists, but at night it was mostly drunks or regulars or some Yelp reviewer...you had a lot of those, they never got off the company's back that you worked for.

But you hadn't messed up once so you didn't worry about it.

"Thank you, sweetheart. My, I gotta say it's like you practically live here. Do you work full time?" Mr. Saka asks, cutting into his pancakes. He was one of those people that liked breakfast food at night and you thought it was funny when everyone else was having dinner and he was the only one ordering a breakfast platter.

"Yes, well, I'm trying to have enough money to where I don't have to worry so much about bills or if I want to get enough food for the month. It's hard, yes, but that's the adult life I guess." You sighed, running the damp rag across the counter, cleaning up from the last customer.

"Just try to take care of yourself. I would hate to see you get burnt out from all the hard work, besides, you're my favorite. " he sends a playful wink before drowning his pancakes in syrup. You chuckled, breaking into a small smile. "You're my favorite too, Mr. Saka. "

"Y/N, you may clock out if you like. We have a newbie coming in tomorrow and we might need you to come in early for an extra pair of hands." Your boss says, looking over the time sheet. You nodded, sighing a little as you hated coming in early especially when you thought you were going to have a short shift tomorrow. "Alright, I will. Goodnight everyone!" You said, sliding your time card in and clocking out. "Have a goodnight, Mr. Saka. Stay out of trouble." You give him a small pat on the shorter, sending him into a fit of laughter.

"As if!"

You chuckled once more at his comment, opening the door and walking out. The air was a bit chilly and you were glad to have brought your hoodie. It wasn't the thickest, but it covered you up. So, it did it's job.

As cliche and dumb as it was, you usually took shortcuts home. The city was too alive at times like this, making it nearly impossible to not be trampled by other people or take nearly an hour to get home. With a short cut, you cut the time in half. It was still exhausting after a long shift at work, but it was something.

You heard shouting and stopped dead in your tracks. You heard an old man speaking and furrowed your eyebrows. Should I see what is happening? Call the cops? Turn around and leave? What?

But before you could register what your body was doing, you moved away from the shadows and gasped at the sight of an man, sending a needle into the old man's chest and watching him fall to the ground.

Three heads snapped at you and you cursed silently, before turning your heel in the opposite direction, waiting for the signal to break into a run.

"GET HER!"

So here's the first chapter. I hoped you liked it and there might be chapters with cliffhangers, so expect that. This is going to be a dark creepypasta x reader, so if don't like that then don't read any further as topics will get triggering, just a warning also gonna use tags so maybe you guys can find it easier cuz i don’t know how to do masterlist

[project-rosewood-476]

Every Rose Has It's Thorns Chapter 3

After a long ass time, ERHIT Chapter 3 is finally out! Tabby is about to commit her first direct kill, and the boys will finally see a brief glimpse of Tabby and who she really is. The Pocket, interpretations of the creeps, and some of the ideas belong to @creepypasta-shtick. Please go check out their blog! They're awesome!

Maplehood Creek and Tabby Anderson belong to me.

TW: homicide, violence, blood, and gore

IF YOU DON'T LIKE IT, DON'T READ IT.

otherwise, enjoy~

Toby had gone to bed to get an uneasy sleep after the confrontation with Hoodie. He woke up feeling distinctly unrested. Tabby was still out cold, but she was back to being curled up in her natural protective sleeping position, back to cuddling with Toby's hoody. She had a nice black bruise formed on her left temple when she fell and hit her head when she collapsed. Toby took some time getting ready. He was tired, but coffee made his tics worse, so he woke himself up by taking a cold shower. But he could only waste so much time before they had to go. Toby had a simple, small breakfast, then went to go wake up Tabby.

When you walk into Tabby's room, you just see this small curled-up figure under the teal covers nuzzling the hoody. On the nightstand, you could see two pictures. One is of her family. You could see a short and stout woman who looks like a more tired, older version of Tabby with her arms behind her back and a small, sad smile. A tall, built man with his arms crossed and looking sternly into the camera, which was her stepdad. A boy in his late teens who looked like a more boyish version of her stepfather. He had a mischievous smirk as he looked down at a slightly younger version of Tabby in a headlock, looking like he was about ready to pour the container of gasoline that he was holding over her head. Tabby herself looked like she was fighting to get out of the headlock, keeping one leg down and the other leg slightly up for balance. The blonde little boy that was a thick boy with a hint of baby fat on him had a mischievous grin as his innocent blue eyes screamed for adventure. He was holding onto her slightly elevated leg. The second picture was a school picture with a somewhat younger version of Tabby and co. It was 15 kids all together striking funny dumb poses in their Rosewood school uniforms with Tabby and a taller ginger girl front and center. Tabby was loosely hanging off of her, making a funny face as she was genuinely smiling, And the ginger girl wrapping her arms around Tabby's torso to support her, suggesting that Tabby and this ginger girl were close at one point in time. Other than that, it was immaculate and practically empty.

Tabby was snoring softly, as she often does when she's in a deep sleep. Toby gently reached over to her and tried shaking her.

"Tabby, Tabby, you have to get up."

Tabby startled awake, and she scurried away to another corner of the bed in an attempt to get away from him. She was about to cock her fist back and kick him as she scurried over. Until she realized that she doesn't need to attack him since he wasn't doing anything to hurt her. She lowered her defenses down and gave a sheepish, apologetic look.

"Sorry...instincts..."

She groaned and rubbed her head "my head hurts..and my entire body aches...god, I'm so tired..."

She looked around, confused.

"How...did I get back here?...."

She looked over to see Toby's hoody in her bed. Confused and embarrassed, she crawled over and picked up the hoody and handed it back to him.

"I don't know how I got this...but I think this belongs to you."

"Oh yeah, thanks." Toby took it back from her and smiled.

"Yeah. I went and got you from Jane's place and brought you here. Do you need some ice for your head? You had a nasty fall." He felt terrible for having to wake her up.

"Yeah, that's what happens when your body finally gives out when you already went two weeks with no sleep."

Toby left her to wake up. He was getting everything cleaned up. He wanted her to wake up first before he told her the bad news. Masky and HoodieHoodie were already on their way over.

She flopped onto her face in her bed with how exhausted she was. It looks like she's not going to get any more sleep for a while. Great, just great. Hopefully, she could get some coffee or an energy drink or both, preferably. The caffeine didn't help her anxiety and paranoia any. And it's certainly not healthy for her. It worsened, but it does help keep her up when she needs to for more extended periods. This was helpful for when her insomnia finally wears off for a while, and she can't do her usual routine to catch up On sleep like she usually does sometimes. But first, some water for that headache that she had. Tabby was grumbling as she got her clothes ready. She took out a black my chemical romance tee-shirt since she's still in her emo phase that never left her. And a pair of worn-out jeans and socks. She went to the closet to get new bandages for her hand since she was covered in yesterday's blood. She was going to take a shower first. Hopefully, that will help wake her up, but she highly doubts it. The poor girl looked exhausted and just wanted to go back to sleep.

She put her stuff in the bathroom and came out to get some water since she was thirsty. She took three long gulps of water and tilted her head back, and closed her eyes for a moment.

"God, I fucking hate my insomnia. I'd kill for some coffee or an energy drink or both. It's not good for my anxiety and paranoia, but it does help keep me awake when I need to" she went back to sipping her water. "So why do I have to be up exactly that involves me?"

Toby gave her a slight grimace.

"I'll tell you the news later. But I'll tell you what. You take a shower, and I'll make your coffee; how does that sound? I know you like watching, but I'm just going to use these beans." He opened his upper cabinet and showed her the bag of coffee beans. "I have some of the tester sticks, too, if you want." He wanted her to get tidied up a bit before the other two came over.

Tabby gulped at his grimace. Whatever the news was, it couldn't be good for her. But she needed to clean up to wash off yesterday's blood and take care of her hand. She nodded as he showed her.

"That sounds good as long as you have sugar. I like my coffee diabetes sweet." She went in to take her shower.

Toby nodded and made her coffee. He left the sugar and creamer for Tabby to add herself, so she could inspect it if she needed to and also so she could add as much as she wanted. He switched on the TV. He could watch human channels if he wanted, but he much preferred monster television.

Tabby set the water on warm to soothe her aching body for the day. It took her a couple of minutes to figure out how the shower worked. She undid the bandages on her left hand and threw them away. She got undressed and inspected herself. Scars were always going to be there, but the bruises were healing up nicely. It was amazing to her what happens when she wasn't getting into fights and getting beat almost every day. She estimated about a week for them to heal entirely besides a few major ones on both sides of her ribcage and stomach that would take longer. They never recovered this fast before usually; it took two weeks for the old bruises to heal first. Tabby was giddy about that. She got in and washed herself up with the stuff she brought with her when she ran away. The whole process took like 5 minutes. She turned the water off, dried off, got dressed in her black my chemical romance shirt and worn-out pants and socks, brushed her hair and teeth, and got out.

She came out, putting her wet hair back into a ponytail. The coffee was waiting for her, with the cream and sugar next to it. Toby was sat on the couch, watching the news. A little demon man was on the TV, talking about the weather for that day, which was, as usual, hot. Tabby took the testing stick just in case. No poison. She put some creamer and a shit ton of sugar into her coffee. She stirred it in and gave it a taste test. She gave a blissful sigh as the coffee hit the right spot. She took her coffee into the living room, sipping on it. She sat a few cushions over from Toby. She looked visibly slightly better. Still really exhausted but able to deal with it better now that she had some coffee with her. Still looked malnourished. She had clean bandages on her hand, and her fresh scars were basically healed, and most of her bruises were almost gone or looked slightly better.

"So, what is the bad news that involves me?"

Toby was about to answer when there was a knock on the door. He went and got it. There stood Masky and Hoodie. Masky had his mask strapped to his belt, revealing a cheery, rather nice-looking face. He looked like a normal human being. Hoodie kept his mask on, of course. He hated taking it off.

"Hey guys, come in," Toby said nervously.

They both did so. Masky flashed Tabby a smile.

"Hey, kiddo."

Tabby narrowed her eyes at him, remembering the night when he tried to kill her twice. But she wasn't a rude bitch most of the time.

"Hello," she said in a polite tone as she stopped drinking her coffee for a second to give everyone her full attention.

Hoodie chuckled to himself quietly. It must be weird to see Masky so chill. Toby smiled awkwardly.

"Tabby, you've...uh...met these people before, but anyways. This is Masky, our group leader. And this is Hoodie." Both men wave

"Yeah, I know," she said still politely, but her voice had a harsh undertone to it slightly.

But her stepdad was strict on raising her with respect for her elders and manners in general. She gave a small wave with her left hand in return.

"Why are you guys here?"

"They're here, so we can do a small mission before we go help EJ with his," Toby stated nervously before excusing himself to the bathroom so either Hoodie or Masky could explain it.

"Wait, what?" She started, but Toby was already in the bathroom. She growled in frustration, with her jaw tightening up.

"I don't appreciate it when people try to avoid things with me..." she turned to face the two older males and crossed her arms, still being tense, making it very clear that she doesn't trust either one of the three for one second.

"What is the other mission exactly? And how does it involve me?"

She was sipping on her coffee to keep from attacking the both of them.

"Well, the boss wants you to kill some people." Hoodie put it very bluntly.

Tabby choked on her coffee and began to have a coughing fit.

"Already?... Jesus, I've only been here three days; it just doesn't make a whole lot of sense to me someone with no experience whatsoever and who hasn't been here for long," she said between coughs. She was more awake after that little bit of news.

"Brian, that's unnecessary."

"It's true. And don't call me by my name in front of her. And she will unless she wants to die."

"She's our new teammate now. She has every right to know."

She looked over at Hoodie.

"Jokes on you, I already do. I don't see an issue with that," she said, slowing down with the coughs.

She finally caught her breath. She stood up straight and looked at Masky distrustfully. It was weird to her that he was sticking up for her and being friendly.

"I appreciate you sticking up for me, but please don't do it again. I've already told Toby this, and I'm going to tell both of you. I can take care of myself, don't fight my battles for me."

She didn't mean to sound and be harsh. She was just naturally like that. It was a survival mechanism to her. It either pushed others away and hated her, which was good. She'd instead be left alone by everyone else besides her friend group. Or it showed other people that she took shit from no one and don't fuck with her. Either way, if it got her and her friends to live another day, that's all she cared about.

"It wasn't about protecting you." Hoodie scoffed.

"It was just good ol' Tim keeping me in my place." He sounded bitter.

"And yeah. You're doing it. You get to kill a man and a woman. You get an intimate look at one of the more common ways we get proxies." Hoodie was perched on the armchair.

She then glared at Hoodie, but her expression and tone were spiteful, hateful, and bitter.

"I don't need you to tell me that I'm going to do it when I already said I would. Once I made a choice, I stick by it, and I will go down with the ship to the bitter fucking end".

It was to the point where her darkness was seeping through little by little. Enough to make everyone feel uncomfortable, at least. She was about ready to attack Hoodie if she could get away with it. It just goes to show that the manipulation wasn't going to work on her.

Masky sighed.

"He means that...you will be killing a mother and a father, and we will be taking the children to be trained as proxies. Our boss chooses proxies young. Most proxies start when they're young teenagers, sometimes a little younger. Our boss likes to experiment."

Masky got a cigarette out of a box in his pocket and lit it. At the same time, he reached into the bag at his side, pulling out a picture of the family. The father was tall and handsome, with a medium complexion, dark eyes, and very curly dark hair. The mother was short and a little plump, with friendly green eyes and auburn hair, has done neatly in a bun. They were appropriately dressed. A young boy, around twelve, looked a lot like his parents. He had his father's curly brown hair but his mother's eyes. He was wearing a bright blue suit. There was a girl as well, in a green dress. Her hair was straight but was still the dark color of her father's. She held a book in her hands.

The mother was holding a very tiny baby, fast asleep, and in a little pink bow. They looked like a happy, average family. A family that was about to be shattered: both Masky and Hoodie seemed to regard the fact with indifference. Masky himself had been chosen as a proxy when he was young. Ever since he could remember, he had seen his boss. It used to scare him. His mother eventually gave up custody of him after leaving him in an institution. He left the institution to a foster family. Then another. Then another. Then another. Hoodie, well, he tried not to dwell on what little he remembered.

Tabby's eyes widened.

"P-parents?!"

She dropped her coffee which unfortunately spilled. Her face paled to the point where her skin looked slightly gray. She slowly backed into a couch and tightened her grip on the back of it to the point where her knuckles were white. She had this fearful look to her as she had a flashback of what happened when she first helped taking someone's mother away—but knowing what she knows now. Now she's not so sure if it was just her paranoia that night. Looking back on it now, she was convinced that that specific traumatic incident is 30% of what led her up to be in the position that she's in now. Tabby was just 12 years old at the time.

Both Masky and Hoodie had ruined numerous families and lives. They liked to pretend it didn't bother them, but sometimes, it did. Not in this case, though. The children would live and would be given a new, better life. Masky couldn't tell that Tabby remembered something, but Hoodie could. He said nothing.

"We will be there to supervise." He told her.

Toby soon came back. He sat near Tabby, then saw the picture. He took it and looked at it. He stared at the kids.

She narrowed her eyes at Toby, about ready to call him out on his bullshit. "you know I don't appreciate when people try to avoid stuff with me. It's a cowardly move to me personally, and I don't think you're a coward. If you have something to say to me, good, bad, or otherwise, say to my face, please. Just some advice for next time".

Hoodie continued.

"The older kids will be taken to an institution where they can be transformed and trained. The baby will be taken to the boss." Hoodie spoke with indifference and some amount of coldness

Tabby slowly came back to reality and looked confused. Until what they said processed finally.

"Okay... that's fair enough, I guess....". She started slowly.

The color was returning to her face as she slowly relaxed her grip on the couch. She quickly returned to her usual self. She picked up the coffee cup and cleaned up the spilled coffee. She walked into the kitchen to clean up her dish.

Hoodie angrily turned to Toby.

"See, this is why you need to beat the shit out of new proxies to get them to learn their fucking place! Otherwise, you get mouthy, stupid brats like this one who can't tell the difference between a suggestion and an order! Any other proxy would have just killed her."

Tabby shouted back from the kitchen, "I can fucking hear you! You want to beat the shit out of me? Go right ahead! But I promise you I will fight back! I'm not a little bitch that will take the shit that's handed to her! You think I'm scared of you? Well, you're so wrong!"

Toby sighed and just hung his head.

Hoodie continued, "And if she doesn't learn her fucking place, I WILL kill her."

She heard the next part, "good luck in trying! At least someone else would be competent enough to make a successful attempt, unlike you!"

Hoodie was seething in rage and turned to Masky.

"Are you hearing this bullshit?!"

"Give her a chance to learn, Hoodie." Masky said quietly, "Whether you like it or not, she is our teammate. She might not have that high a standing right now, but it is possible to become very competent in a short time. Toby's living proof of that."

Masky inhaled the smoke and sighed softly.

"There will be no fights. I will not allow it. Hoodie-" his voice became a little commanding. "Go outside and get some fresh air."

Hoodie knew better than to argue. He did as his leader said.

She heard the door slam; she walked back into the living room, still pissed and scratching her ears. And when she's pissed, you could feel the heat radiating off of her, and her ears become rash like so she itches them.

"I don't need to be told what to do a second time. I'm told once. I already agreed fucking agreed to the job. I already said I was going to do the job. Done, set deal."

Masky serenely blew smoke out of his mouth. He seemed utterly unbothered by Tabby's irritation. Toby got up to get some things ready for the little trip. Hoodie was gone. He could kill Tabby if he wanted to. But he was going to calm down. Masky had no desire to argue. He simply sighed.

"You might want to get some stuff ready for the mission. After we do this, we'll be meeting EJ for lunch and anyone else wanting to go on this mission with us."

She took a deep breath.

"Fine"

She was slightly calmer now, at least to the point where she wouldn't take it out on either Masky or Toby. She did what she was told. She just packed up her clothes and products and her two pictures and Autumn's sketches in her black backpack. She put on her shoes and her signature red plaid jacket. She had one strap of her bag slung over her shoulder and waited impatiently to go. Hoodie soon came back, looking a lot calmer. Masky smiled slightly and unhooked his mask from his belt to put it on. Masks were required while on missions. Toby soon came out. He was ready too. Tabby put hers on and just ignored the HoodieHoodie for the time being. Hoodie followed her lead and ignored her as well. Tabby just stuck close to Toby, kept her head down low and her hands in her pockets, and kept silent. She followed the other two out the door.

It was quiet out. Hoodie and Masky were talking among themselves as they walked. Toby walked resolutely with Tabby. They were going to walk to the portal, then steal a car to drive there.

Tabby was calmed down enough. She was lost in her thoughts. She was stuck in between neutralizing her anxiety about her first kill and kind of being excited to go back home in a sense. At least she would be in familiar territory again, and she could go back to her and Autumn's spot to get away from these 3. Tabby kept sneaking glances over at Toby. It was nice having someone by her side. Even if they didn't talk, it was nice to have company. It made her smile a little under her mask.

Toby felt meek and tired. He usually didn't argue with his group. He wasn't all that good at it. But he and HoodieHoodie had some fundamental disagreements on how to train new proxies. It was frustrating. He didn't want Tabby to have to go through the hell he did. Tabby continued not to say anything. She figured at this point it would be best to stick to her fundamental rule of only speaking when spoken to.

Tabby was lost in thought. Killing people who deserved it was one thing. Killing people for survival is another thing that she understands all too well. Killing someone because it's for a job is another thing that she understood. But she didn't know if the parents were what she would deem immoral or not. She was about to take away someone's parents. Just like she did all those years ago. It didn't matter. She already said that she would do the job. That was that. What was eating away at her was that she was about to prove her stepdad right about her. How godawful of a person she was, how she was a monster, how everyone around her would be dead because of her. To her, that was like admitting ultimate defeat. She looked down defeatedly and fidgeted with the bottom of her shirt to keep her anxiety at bay. What would the kids think of her? Well, whatever. Let them figure it out on their own. Let the chips fall where they may.

Toby always hated these missions. Retrieval missions were draining, hard on his psyche, and didn't usually pay well. He tried his best not to think about it. His job was to retrieve the baby, which was the least draining, in his opinion. All he had to do was find the crib and get the child. That baby couldn't be upset with him for destroying her life. The only reason she would cry is if she was hungry or cold or tired. The older kids, however.

Tabby looked like she was about to cry as she felt her demons at her heels as she was reliving that Godawful night. The last thing she wanted to do was to prove her stepdad right. But it looks like she had no other choice. She kept her head down and soldiered on. Thank God her mask covered up her entire face. As she let silent tears stream down her face. She didn't make any noise as she did, so she just stayed deathly silent, not to give herself away. She was so quiet and stealthy that you would forget that she was walking with you.

Toby overheard Masky speaking. The father was someone who was looking into their world. And that couldn't be allowed. That action had made that family their enemy. The way for that family to be redeemed would be through the children. It was cruel. But fair. Tabby understood, unfortunately. The price you pay was very cruel but reasonable if you go looking for shit, you don't know what you're getting into. She learned that from a past babysitter of hers. She paid the price for her babysitter's actions, which was how she got her knowledge on the paranormal. Something that didn't belong in Maplehood but oddly enough somehow belongs here vaguely.

The walk to the portal was thankfully quick. Masky had his bag with him. Hoodie knew what was inside, and so did Toby.

"Okay. Who wants to go through first?" Masky asked

Tabby snapped her head and blinked a couple of times to clear her eyes to make it look like she wasn't crying. She spoke up with an emotionless voice.

"I will"

Tabby stepped through the portal and waited for everyone else. The men soon followed her, arriving nearby. Without a word, Masky began to lead the way. Hoodie was muttering to him.

Tabby followed behind them, following alongside Toby and going back to being silent. She was past crying now. Now she just looked straight ahead, not showing any emotion, but her eyes just look dead on the inside. She continued to fidget with her shirt like she was wringing out someone's neck. Masky led the way.

"The house is 1112 Twelfth St. Keep an eye out."

They were heading towards a neighborhood. It was nice out that day.

Tabby knew that street all too well in her hometown. It was in the downtown area. Three blocks from Rosewood Preparatory school. It was in one of the wealthier neighborhoods. A younger, more childish version of Tabby loved going down that street for trick r treating on Halloween. She deemed it the best place to go because they always gave out big and lots of fancy pieces of candy. Those memories brought back a warming sense of familiarity. It calmed her down enough to the point where she almost forgot that she was about to commit her first kill. The closer they got to the street, the darker the aura felt. But that's because it was close to Rosewood and Rosewood as an unsettling dark, mysterious aura around it with how much bloodshed was wrongfully and violently spilled there. It was the same unsettling darkness that generally surrounded Tabby since she used to go to Rosewood. Everyone who went to Rosewood has it. That's how you can tell they were there. Except hers had a more personal taste and was raw just beneath the surface. It was enough to make anyone feel uncomfortable if you weren't from there or just used to it. Toby and HoodieHoodie didn't seem to care all that much. Masky seemed to notice it but paid it no mind. It was bright out but slowly getting darker. Masky saw parents coming outside to usher their children back inside. Dogs were outside in many of the gated yards. Some barked at the four. Others ignored them.

Tabby kept her head down and mumbled prayers to herself that they wouldn't bring too much attention to themselves. And also that she wouldn't fuck up. Her anxiety and paranoia were sky-high to the point where she was almost jumpy and jittery. Although she desperately tried not to show it. It was to the point where even fidgeting with her shirt wasn't working, and she was slightly squirming uncomfortably. Tabby's mind was racing.

"How does it feel to go into this knowing you're going to prove dad right?"

"How does it feel knowing what you're going commit."

"What would the children say about you? What about Adam? What about Autumn? What would happen if Horatio ever found out?"

"They're going to find out your secrets and what type of a godawful person you are."

"You know dad would be proud of you."

"You're no better than dad and Horatio. If not worse".

Those were the thoughts that intruded in her head. She kept mumbling to herself, "shut up" "that's not true," over and over again like a mantra.

She kept repeatedly and periodically shaking her head to get rid of her thoughts.

Hoodie soon stopped in front of a quaint blue house. The mailbox was painted white. It was cute. The curtains were open. It was easy to look in. Hoodie saw their targets. The mother was holding the baby. The kids were sitting together at the table. The father was serving dinner to the people at the table. Hoodie shook his head.

"Game plan?" Tabby whispered, squeaked out awkwardly. It was evident that Tabby didn't look too good. But her face was emotionless and resolute. It was showing the determination that she would go through with it no matter what.

"Well, I'd hate to ruin their little dinner." Hoodie said sarcastically.

Tabby rolled her eyes at Hoodie.

Masky sighed.

"Let's sneak in."

Tabby nodded at Masky.

"I know these types of houses. These structures are old. And the house is huge. The best way to sneak in would be through the cellar. From there, there's normally an old secret passageway of sorts, what would be a servant's passage. The walls are hollow so we could move through there, and we would end up in the rooms of the house," she explained quietly.

"Alright. Sounds good. Tabby, Toby, you go in through the cellar. Once you get in, open that window-" he pointed to the left one on the upper floor. "To signal for me and Hoodie to come in as well."

"Got it. Toby let's go," she said as she started to sneak to the back of the house towards the cellar.

Even though her stomach plummeted with dread and her footsteps felt heavy. She still kept ongoing. Toby followed her. They passed by the backyard. A little playground was in the back. It was cute. Tabby saw that the cellar doors were locked. But not to worry. Tabby crouched down and began to pick the lock with one of her knives. A few minutes later, the lock came undone. She gently lifts it, not wanting to make too much noise. She slowly went down the cellar stairs. Toby followed her, quiet as a mouse, closing the door behind him. He could see a little in the musty cellar light. Mostly empty shelves. Some old toys. Nothing special. Tabby was scanning for something that resembled a secret door of some sort. Until she found it, it was a bit small. But it was big enough for both of them to fit if they both crawled through until they came into a bigger space, then they should be fine. The door looked like it hadn't been used in years. Tabby could tell that it would open up easily. She used her knife to pry it open. It gently scraped against the floor, blowing a thin layer of dust in their way. Tabby coughed a little bit, silenced it. Toby covered his mouth with his elbow as he sneezed.

"Oh, fuck." He muttered under his breath, then laughed nervously.

He let Tabby go first. Tabby gave him a small smile and a slight chuckle. For some reason, her nerves seemed to calm down around him, which was good for her anxiety. She crawled through the darkened corridor.

"It's small at first, but once we get into the wall structure, it should get bigger, Although it will be a narrow fit for the both of us," she whispered.

Toby chuckled in response.

"I feel a bit like a mouse." He said in a joking manner. He crawled in after her.

"The only time I feel blessed with my small size," she smirked.

Her smirk faded into something more serious.

"To be honest...I have never been more scared in my life than now," she said quietly as she hung her head looking at the ground while crawling forwards and taking a right.

"It'll be okay," Toby muttered to her. "I'll be there to back you up if things go wrong." He promised her. He followed her when she turned.

Tabby stopped dead in her tracks, causing Toby to crash into her. She whipped her head around.

"You know those were the exact last words that my friends ever said to me. Just saying"

She gave a quiet bitter chuckle.

"Who knew that I would spend my entire life trying to prove my step das wrong only today to prove that he was right about me all along. I'm no better than he is" she sounded bitter yet defeated.

Tabby continued straight for a while. They had to take a left and then straight ahead before the corridor expanded into the wall structure.

"Your stepdad is wrong," Toby said. "You are better than he is."

He continued to follow her. "He hurt someone he was supposed to care for. You are hurting our enemies."

"And I hurt his enemy; what's the difference?" she shot back.

He didn't have an answer for her. She sighed

"I don't think you understand," she started.

She paused in her thinking for a minute. She turned left in the corridor. She was debating on how much she should tell him. She didn't want him to think any differently of her. Even though she just met him, she wasn't sure exactly why she cared so much about what he thought. She also remembered her stepdad's threat about if she told anyone what happened, he would find out and either kill them and/her. But Toby was a proxy, and her stepdad was a human; if anything, he could kill him if something weird were to happen.

"I- this-....this isn't my first rodeo...exactly" she hesitated.

"That's okay," Toby said with a shrug.

"You know, killing doesn't make you...bad, right?"

Toby knew she still thought like a human. But once she entirely switched, she would understand.

"I know...that it's necessary. Because I plan to when I get my revenge so my friends can finally crossover and are at peace if they already haven't, that's not my problem," she sighed "it's just that... I've just seen too much death at the hands of the wrong people for the wrong reason...." she referred to her stepdad and Horatio and the teachers at Rosewood.

"And to clear it up, I never killed anyone directly before. Although I've tried countless times with Horatio, I never succeeded."

She hesitated "but that's not to say that I never helped out with the aftermath of it though it wasn't my fault."

They got to the wall structure, so she stood up and walked sideways through the walkways.

"It doesn't matter anyway. The tricky part here is judging when we're on the second floor. Then we can let Masky and Hoodie in," she said

Toby shifted to the side slightly. It was somewhat hot in here.

"I understand. I promise it won't be too bad." He said quietly.

He continued to crawl.

"And we'll just climb as far as we can go, maybe. That should get us upstairs." Toby was a little worried for Tabby.

"Fair enough," she said.

"I don't know if this will help," Toby began," But don't think of it as taking parents away from the kids; think of it more as a way to punish those who have wronged our people and give those kids a purpose. If that's what's bothering you" He was quiet after that, allowing her time to speak if she needed to

"I guess that makes sense...sort of like a second chance....for the kids, I mean" she tilted her head to the side and then nodded.

"After all, my stepdad taught me that if you do something wrong, then you should expect the worse possible outcome, which is usually death. Especially if you go actively looking for shit that you don't understand what you're dealing with. And sometimes, just sometimes, someone else pays for another person's actions. Yet something else I know too well. That was the second life lesson I ever learned" she shrugged.

Toby nodded.

"That's true." He said.

"Both of those things are true." He sighed quietly.

"I know. I experienced them. But that's a story for another day. One, I think you wouldn't believe me if I told you."

"I have been through a lot of unbelievable things myself. I can handle it."

Tabby looked over at Toby for a moment. She wasn't sure if he was bluffing and just saying that he could get more information out of her or if he was just trying to keep her talking so her anxiety won't be as bad, to which she was thankful that he was playing into it. On top of that, she was more comfortable telling this story more than the other one that she was going to. She could deal with the fact that he would think that she's crazy afterward than him judging her entire character.

"Alright, I'll tell you. So, to preface this. I've always been able just to see the paranormal. I guess I was just born with it. Although throughout my childhood, I've always been able to see these wispy tall, lanky shadowy figures. I have no idea what they are to this day, and they appeared to be less and less as I got older, but I still made it a point to talk to them when they showed themselves, even though they never talked at all. They were just there. The first ghost that showed itself to me was when I was six. The rest was from birth and on"

She paused for a moment and looked away from him.

"You probably think I'm crazy already."

"N-no, I don't please..continue," he said softly.

She looked into his puppy dog brown eyes for a moment. It was enough to make her melt, but she would rather die than admit it. She gave in.

"Well, I always thought the extent of my supernatural abilities would just be Sight. But I was so wrong."

"I was four at the time. My mom always worked a lot to provide for us my entire life. So I never really saw her. I don't hold that against her though it is what it is" she shrugged. "This was before my stepdad came around permanently, so I was always passed off from one babysitter to another," she smirked "none of them lasted a week with me, but my thing was don't tell me what to do in my own house when I am practically self-sufficient even at that age, and I know the rules and my routine better than some stranger who's in my territory. It started like any other day. But it just felt off like the entire day just felt off. Like, you know how a dog can tell when a thunderstorm will hit, and they act all weird? That was me. I could sense that a storm was brewing, and it wasn't one in nature. I could tell something bad would happen; I didn't know what at the time. I thought it might happen to my mom, and that's why my intuition was screaming at me. So I begged her not to go to work that day, but just like every adult, she brushed me off and didn't listen to or believe me. Idk there was just this ominous feel in the air. This time my babysitter was a stranger that my mom managed to hire—a fifteen-year-old blonde petite girl named Maggie Hemmington. At the time, I thought she was an adult, but then again, anyone older than 10 is an adult to you when you're four years old. She wore stuff that expressed she was into the occult stuff. When she came over that day, the feeling that something bad would happen jumped to 1000. I became more insistent and screaming, crying, and begging my mom not to leave me alone with her. But again, my mom brushed me off and tried to reassure me the best she could. In the end, she left for work and me alone with that bitch. The day was awful, with lots of fights and screaming at each other. She was just an awful person; she didn't even do her job. I still had to go and take care of myself. Eventually, she made me go to bed early, saying that she would have friends over and she didn't want a brat like me to get in the way. Which she wasn't supposed to have friends over, to begin with, but after the day I had, I was more than happy to oblige. The quicker I went to sleep, the quicker I could wake up and have it be the next day. So like the good kid I once was, I went up to my room, and surprisingly, I fell asleep naturally".

Tabby took a deep breath before she continued talking.

"It was around midnight, or so I would like to believe. I honestly don't remember much of what happened that night. I only remember what I remember due to months of pushing through the painful headaches and flashbacks accompanying me ever since. I don't remember the full story, so I'm probably missing a few parts, but I remember enough to piece together a semi-complete story. I remember waking up to Maggie and her friends screaming. I was scared and confused as to what was happening. Hindsight is 20/20. I probably should have just stayed in bed. Although, to be honest, I don't think that this night wouldn't have ended differently, even if I did just stay in bed. And in all actuality, I didn't hate her or any of her friends, for that matter. At least, not enough to leave them to their deaths. What if they were in trouble? I was the only one there that could do anything. If I didn't, that would make me a coward, and I wouldn't be able to live with myself. What if they were dead? Then what? If I did go down there and saw what I saw if they were dead, how would I explain what I saw to the police? To my mom? All these questions and choices ran through my head. However, my pride and what little compassion that I had got in the way. I didn't raise myself to be a coward, and I wasn't going to start then, and they sounded like they were in trouble. They needed me. So I chose to sneak downstairs to see what was up and figure it out from there. The apartment itself was quite old, so the staircase was creaky. However, some spots weren't creaky; I knew where they were. Going down the stairs was like doing an intricate dance to avoid the creaky spots. I crouched down halfway down the staircase. The apartment had dim lighting, so there were lots of shadows all over the place. I was wearing a black nightshirt, and I was tan and small enough to hide in the shadows. I looked through the bars of the stairs, and I saw Maggie and her friends huddled together with the look of absolute fear in their eyes, staring straight ahead and an ouija board in front of them. I couldn't see what they saw at the time. But I could feel a dark and powerful aura that was around. It was uncomfortable and overwhelming. It was almost suffocating. As I called it, the entity didn't know what it was since I couldn't see it, but I could feel it and hear it. All that I knew was that it was a malicious entity. It kept coming closer to where I was hiding. I crouched down more to make myself appear smaller. But the entity snatched me up, and as far as I knew, I was levitating in thin air. The entity had a suffocating grip on me. I don't remember much because Maggie, her friends, and I were too busy screaming, crying, and I was trying to fight my way out. I even tried to bite the entity, but that only resulted in it tightening its grip on me even more. Maggie was trying to negotiate a different price for summoning the entity Since it said that it required a sacrifice as a price for summoning it. And well, I was it. After hours of screaming, crying, and negotiating, they came to a compromise. What that compromise was, I have no idea to this day. But all I remember is a pressure on my forehead and just a flood of painful life truths and knowledge on more paranormal creatures and how to deal with them. I was screaming and crying in pain and agony. It was too much all at once, and I felt like my head was going to explode. The night seemed to go on forever to me. I thought that it would never end. After the entity was done, I blacked out. I can't tell you what happened after even if I tried. This is why I don't mess with horror movies, witchcraft, and ouija boards to this day. I don't go actively looking for stuff that I don't understand what I'm dealing with."

She checked to see if Toby was still listening, which he was. She was already in way too deep. There's no backing out of this story now. She was going to finish it.

"The next morning, I woke up back in my room in my bed. I had a painful headache in the center of my forehead, like the equivalent of a nasty hangover. I was perplexed as to what happened last night. I knew something happened. I didn't know what. That is until the painful knowledge that I received last night came flowing back like a flood. I was crying and screaming in agony until the flashbacks subsided. My mom came running in to see what was wrong. She asked me what was wrong. But I couldn't tell her the truth about what happened last night. She wouldn't have believed me anyway. Instead, I just cuddled up to her and held onto her tight, and just cried until I ran out of tears and was reduced to a sniffling, hiccupping mess. I just suffered in silence while my mom rubbed my back and petted my hair."

Toby looked at her, confused.

"I mean would your parents believe you if you told them this exact story?"

"Absofuckinglutely not," he answered honestly.

"That's what I thought."

She paused for a moment before taking a deep breath before continuing again.

"The next three months was a bitch to deal with. I was a mess. I still did what I needed to do. I went to preschool, although I was more antisocial than usual, and I was jumpier. I was just more of a broken quiet, my wide hazel eyes had a haunted look to them on top of them being slightly sunken back, and I had dark circles under them; I wasn't sleeping much during those three months. It was an awful sight. I was almost sickly skinny; I wasn't eating much for those three months as well. It was evident that I was a shell of my former self. After preschool, I ate the bare minimum to stay alive and shower when I had the energy to do so. I didn't want to be out of my room longer than I had to. I was afraid the entity would come back for me. The rest of the time, I laid in bed with my covers pulled up, staring at the wall or ceiling for hours on end, just empty-headed and crying when the flashbacks and nightmares occurred. The worst part was that I was alone. Mom was either working or sleeping, and she knew that my trauma had to do with Maggie, so my mom stopped with the babysitters and just left me alone. She wasn't supposed to, but she didn't know what else to do. I didn't tell my stepdad about what happened. And I used to tell this man everything and anything. Back then, we didn't have secrets from each other. But I couldn't tell him this. He wouldn't believe me if I told him. The only ones that I told were my friends when they gained enough trust. So I kept it to myself. My stepdad didn't push me back then. He knew when to back off and respect my boundaries. He dropped it when I didn't want to talk about it. He knew something happened to me but didn't know what. He checked up on me when he was there to make sure I was okay and got a little bit of something to eat. He wasn't always like the way he is now. But that's long gone. You think I'm bad now? You should have seen me in that state back then" she gave a bitter quiet laugh.

"A month had passed since then, and my stepdad had enough of me being bedridden. He gave me this piece of advice that I live by to this day. He sat on my bed and rubbed my back. It was an awful day. The flashbacks and headaches were non-stop, and sleep was nonexistent. He said he could tell that I was scared, and he hated seeing me like this every day. He also said that he knew that I wasn't a coward, and he knew a way to help me face any fear that I would have. That caught my attention, so I sat up a little to pay better attention. He told me this: The more you know, the less you have anything to be afraid of. After all, you can't be afraid of something if you know what that thing is. He left me alone after that, and it was something to think about. I gave myself a week to think about it. By Friday, I decided that I had enough. I didn't want to be stuck in bed. I was tired of the constant flashbacks and headaches. I was tired of living in fear. It's not a fun way to live as I would discover that realization again later on in my life, and guess what? That night when I decided to start not being afraid anymore was the first night that sleep overcame me with no flashbacks and headaches the following day. I guess as I started to make peace with what I was about to do, had something to do with that too".

"The next day, before my mom left for work and my stepdad came over to babysit me, I told them my decision and asked if I could go to the library. I figured that the first step to not being afraid is getting everything on that subject. My mom agreed and left her library card for us to use. I didn't get my own until I was six. I think my mom was just relieved that I wouldn't be bedridden anymore and that I was actually going out to get some fresh air. After my mom left, I grabbed the black backpack he gave me, and we went to the library. I got every book I could on the supernatural and how to deal with them. I definitely got some confused and concerned looks from the librarians and my stepdad. I ignored the librarians, and my stepdad didn't push it. I assumed that he picked up on the type of books that I was getting and figured out what I was scared of, but he was more than willing to help conquer my fears. We checked them out, and we had a month with them before we had to return them. My backpack was so filled that it made me look like an oversized turtle. I wasn't a good reader back then to reading comprehension. It wasn't my strong suit back then. But I was one hell of a writer. So even though he was confused about the subjects that I picked, he helped me with reading the books and helped me take down notes. The more I understood, the less I was becoming less and less afraid. The next step to me for not being afraid was getting the full story of what happened that night. To tell you the truth, I honestly didn't really remember what happened exactly. I remember bits and pieces of what happened due to flashbacks and memories but not in order. And I don't remember what happened after I blacked out about my thought process because I can finally understand and not be afraid anymore if I learned the truth of what really happened. Despite me staying out of my room more and more, I still spent an equal amount of time there. I would deliberately sit myself down and go through that day's events, walking myself through step by step. It wasn't until I got to the par I was snatched, and then the flashbacks would come back intensely. But nevertheless, I pushed through. I would always have a bad headache after each and every session. Literally, my diet consisted of whatever I ate and children's T. It wasn't easy, and there were days where I stepped back from the progress that I made, but little by little, I got to piece together as much of a complete story could. Over time the flashbacks and headaches became less and less frequent as I got older. Occasionally, I would get the nightmare of that nevertheless, always be followed by a headache in the center of my forehead. Still, I wMye some ibuprofen and be on my way. They don't happen as much anymore like they used to. Over time I became less and less afraid, and I became well more normal after that. Well, as normal as I could get after an event like that. I was happy more often. I had my dad/best friend. I pushed boundaries; I got time-outs and early bedtimes. I played with my toys and with him, and I went to preschool, and I ate a lot and regularly more often. I was doing fine. I was getting better".

"Anyways, that's my experience with people fucking around with shit that they don't understand, and then someone else had to pay. I'm pretty sure that this was also 30% of what lead up to me being here," she sounded bitter and looked away.

Toby had listened carefully to her story. He somewhat understood. He never had experiences with the paranormal like that when he was a kid. He had so many more questions for Tabby. Her story made him even more curious about her, but he knew better than to bombard her with them here and now. He hasn't known her for very long, but he knew he was the type of person to beat the fuck out of someone if they didn't back off. Or, at the very least, cause a scene. Maybe he'll try a different approach later when they had more time and alone and settled in. I mean, she already told him one of her most traumatic stories. So she was starting to trust him somewhat. Maybe she would say to him more. Perhaps finally, he found someone with the same pains as him, and they can cope together. He wondered, in the pit of his stomach and the back of his brain, if some force that was not his own made him stop his group from killing Tabby. He honestly had no clue whatsoever. Maybe, maybe not. He knew he had to respond to what Tabby had said, so he did.

"Hm. It doesn't sound like the weirdest thing I've heard." Toby said honestly. "Don't tell him I told you, but Ti- I mean, our boss stalked Masky for years before joining. The whole situation is up on Youtube. He's been trying to get it taken down."

Masky had told him about his life before he was a proxy. The hospital. The medications. Tim was screaming at the staff to believe him when he told them about the monster he saw. It was very lonely for him, and Toby assumed that it must've been very lonely for Tabby as well.

"I won't tell. I'm not a snitch. I'm not the one to snoop around in someone's business," she gave a small reassuring smile.

"You're probably right, though; about that probably leading you to here. Experiences with the paranormal usually either bring people to us or get them killed. I think that name sounds familiar. Maybe Maggie was someone my group has killed in the past. I'm not sure, but I think so. I'm sorry you went through that so young, though."

"I appreciate your sympathies...and it's whatever now I learned to cope. That's why I don't have any sympathies towards people who go actively looking for stuff. You knew what you're getting yourself into; you pay the consequences. If your group did kill her, I would thank you for that. The bitch had what was coming to her," she sounded dark and cold.

It took a minute for her to process what he said entirely.

"Wait, hold on. You believe me?"

"Yeah, I do believe you," Toby said.

Tabby just looked at him as she kept crawling. She wasn't exactly sure how to feel about this. All she can say is that she felt a weird rush of relief and adoration for the stranger behind her. It almost like he was the best thing ever.

He suddenly stopped crawling and grabbed Tabby's leg to let her know to stop.

"Do you think this is the place? It feels a little cooler, so I think it's by a window." He placed his hand on one of his hatchets.

"I think so. We should check"

Toby nodded and moved so Tabby could wiggle out first. She probably knew this better than he did. Tabby got out first. It turns out they were in the parents' room. And the window was open. She gave a thumbs up out the window to let Masky and Hoodie know that they could come in. She turned to face Toby.

"Alright, so I thought that I should take out the parents first, so that way all you guys have to do is just get the kids. So we're going to need to create a distraction to lure the parents up here. The least I can do is make sure that the kids don't have to see them being brutally murdered" she looked down.

"That might not be an option," Toby said quietly, "They may see...we have to try to get them not to see. I'll tell Tim and Brian to take the older kids while I get the baby. That should leave you a window of opportunity to do what you need to do."

Toby looked around. The parents' room was tidy and lovely. Pictures hung on the wall. What looked like their wedding photos. A baby photo of a baby in a little blue hat. A photo of the son as a toddler, with food all over his face. A picture of the boy with a newborn baby in a pink hat. Those were all over the walls. Photos of the stages of the family growth. He also saw some exercise equipment that the parents used in the room when they could.

"Well, I'm going to try to make it an option."

She took a deep breath, "you go hide somewhere and then take the baby. I got this"

It was evident that she didn't believe it. She lifted a heavyweight ball that was in the room. She gave it a good bang against the wall.

"Now go!"

Toby and Tabby slipped into the closet as they heard the dining sounds cease, and footsteps came up the stairs. He hoped it was the mother, as she was the one he had seen with the baby. The footsteps paused outside the door. Then he heard it open. Toby and Tabby peeked out from a crack in the closet to see the woman standing there, a look of confusion and shock on her face. She held her baby in her arms. She stood there for what seemed like minutes but was seconds. Then she screamed and turned to run back down the stairs.

"PAUL! TAKE THE KIDS AND GET OUT-"

Toby heard crashing downstairs. Ah. Hoodie and Masky.

Tabby and Toby ran with the speed of light, and she tackled the woman down the stairs. The baby flew from the mother's arms on impact, but luckily Toby caught them. She tumbled down with the woman. That's going to leave a couple of bruises later. She honestly had no idea what she was doing; she had no idea how to kill. So she fell back on the basics of what her stepdad has taught her. "go for the throat," she said in thought. She took out her knife and pulled the women's head back by her hair, and jammed the knife into the back of her neck in the hypothalamus gland causing instant death. The baby was unharmed.

The woman was bleeding out on the stairs. The baby was crying, mainly because the whole situation was probably terrifying for someone so small. Toby gingerly picked the baby up, searching her over for injuries. The woman was dead. Now Tabby just had to get the dad.

Tabby saw the dad standing there in shock with the kids to the side. Tabby gave an apologetic look to the kids that said I'm so sorry. Then she looked at the dad again, and she felt anger boiling in her. Why did he look so shocked? He should have been prepared for the consequences of actively looking for shit that he didn't understand. What did he expect? What made Tabby angrier was that now someone else had to pay the consequences for his actions. Because he brought his children into this mess, and now they have to suffer. She lunged at the dad and just aimed for the throat. She had enough momentum behind her to have enough force to knock down the dad. Blind anger and Rosewood's and her darkness engulfed her. She lived up to her reputation as Karma.

With that, her vision turned red and blacked out.

[blookmallow]

hi i started playing sally face a while ago and apparently managed to get all the way to the end without. ever going through my screenshots, as i can find no evidence that i started a liveblog anywhere,

i also dont have anything from. like. at least the first chapter. i feel like something got lost somewhere. but anyway, uh, time to start catching up with myself here,

-----

i do not care for this pony

im worried about this lady 

TWINE PARKS

and. edward shovelhands,

i thought i was getting some twin peaks vibes in here 

evil bread

absolutely love this whole...using a modified gameboy to pick up on Ghost Energy and play little haunted creepypasta video games about them... thing. this is all really interesting and creative but also i ran into spikes so much. it doesnt look like it would be hard but the controls are so weird and floaty i kept sliding into shit its like walking on ice 

looking back on this now i dont think i ever actually found all the games?? i think i had like one left that never filled in??? whats up with that how did i miss one

hm. i. slightly regret coming in here,

there’s a lot of skipping around in time here, then we’re in the future 

excUSE ME WHY THE FUCK IS LARRY A GHOST. HELLO. I BEG YOUR FUCKING PARDON

time to spend the rest of the game deeply worried about larry every second of my life 

well that sure was. something 

i see, i see. sorry to disturb you sir 

,,,hm

sweet. time to break into my friends’ stuff 

👀👀👀👀👀

you know i was approaching this like “haha im gonna snoop on my friends. crimes” but then it just ended up being incredibly wholesome instead. these kids love each other so much and this game does such an incredible job of like. environmental storytelling. giving you the pieces without necessarily having everything spelled out for you or awkwardly stopping the story to dump exposition 

larry i would do anything for you

i feel like im in fact going to. or the other way around. something is going to happen and it’s going to hurt and i dont know if im ready for it 

[slashingdisneypasta]

MultiVillain x Reader || Drabbles

Plot: Okay, so this is how it goes. Reader’s in love with (Villain), and (Villain) is in love with them… but no one ever said it out loud, and now Reader is marrying someone else.

Includes: Napoleon Boneparte (Misc), Human!Oogie Boogie (Disney Villain), Oswald Cobblepot (Gotham), Slenderman (Creepypasta), The Clown (Horror Villains)

Warnings: Alcohol intake, talk and hints towards murder of course, and swearing. 

Notes:

Inspired by ‘Marry Me’ (Either by Thomas Rhett [The guy’s POV which is what this will be in] or Elle Mears [Your POV, if you wanna see how Reader’s thinking]) and I recommend you listen while you read! ^^

I’m so happy!! I finally wrote something more then headcanons for Oogie! And this is also my first time writing for the Clown, so be easy on me XD

I hope you like this- I for one, am actually pretty proud of it! 

~~~

Napoleon Boneparte (You’re having a nighttime wedding- you made this decision of course so your friend and secret soulmate could attend):

She wants to get married, she wants it perfect She wants her grandaddy preaching the service Yeah, she wants magnolias out in the country Not too many people, save her daddy some money

Before walking into the church, I halt a moment at the side so others may get inside by me. This will be hard. I need a moment, just a moment… to pull myself together. It would be very bad, if I were to panic as Y/N makes their way down the aisle.

Hand on the church, more to hold myself together rather then to hold myself up. Am I doing the right thing? Should I be here? Should I leave? That stupid Capone said I might not be able to control myself and will object when the preacher asks… he’s not right, is he? It’s true, I don’t feel entirely under my own control right now…. But I need to be here. To support Y/N on their big day.

… I do love them, far more than any man every should a nearly married person, and even if I can’t have them for myself, I would, happy, do very near anything to make them happy.

So, if… If they want me here, as they said they do… Then I have to go in. I can’t chicken out now. I am the great Napoleon Boneparte. I can attend a wedding. Bon dieu.

Viva La France.

I can do this.

Forward!

As soon as I walk in, it is as if I am strolling into Y/N’s mind. This is just as they always wanted, with a few obvious added things by the other one that’s getting married today, like the chiselled cat head mahogany chairs… not that I think Y/N would disapprove if they weren’t, in fact, kind enough to just agree right away, seeing as it isn’t only their day.

The white makes a beautiful backdrop for their chosen accent colour, and the people in the room are exactly who I would imagine to accompany Y/N in her daily life, when I cannot be there. There’s not a sour, or in any way unexcited and unencouraging expression in the place.

Honestly, with my whole heart, wish I could feel the same as them.

Then Y/N comes into the room, and steals the breath right out of my chest. Like always.

Human!Oogie Boogie:

Ooh, she got it all planned out Yeah, I can see it all right now

I'll wear my black suit, black tie, hide out in the back I'll do a strong shot of whiskey straight out the flask

Christ, what kinda shindig is this?? I’ve asked everyone and their cat, including somebodies’ mother who looks like a cat, to play a tiny game of Blackjack with me while we wait for the main event, but nothing! Nada! What’s wrong with these people? Are they dying to just sit around and contemplate their loneliness until the two hosts get hitched??

I, for one, am not playing that game today.

Of course, I’m also avoiding Y/N at all costs so maybe I’m not the best example of a man controlling his emotions.

“Oogie!”

My shoulders seize up visibly, at Y/N’s voice behind me and I stop shuffling my cards. I only decide to turn around and face them like a man, when they give up waiting and round me so I can see their beaming face.

Oh, they look so happy.

That’s nice… in a terrible, heartbreaking, awful kind of way.

“Heya, Y/N. You look great!” I start shuffling the cards again in my hand, distracting my hands from and refraining myself from, taking their hand and kissing it, or pulling them into a hug. If I did that, I think theirs an acute possibility I would end up saying something we would both regret, in a moment of determination… and devastation, of course. Can’t forget that.

Really, I can’t. It’s a very prominent feeling right now in my chest, just being here. Just knowing this is happening.

“Thank you!” They beam wider, and oh Jesus. They’re so beautiful when they look happy- I wish I could make them this happy.

… But that’s all the other guy. The one they’re hitching.

They run their bottom lip through their teeth, looking down at the cards in my hands and then smirking in that mischievous way that always somehow makes this blackheart’s insides clench up. In a good way, but still. Tilting their head, they look back up at my face. “Had no luck getting anyone to bet with you yet?”

I let out a deep, theatrical sigh full of frustration. “No! Your guests all suck, Y/N.”

“Even you?”

“No, not me. I’m the King.”

“Right,” They laugh, then goes and sits down at a nearby table. “Well we have 10 minutes until I have to go get ready to walk- I’ll play you if you want!”

My heart pops like a balloon, and goes flying, wheezing around in my rib cage as I just smile at them for a good moment- unmarried, and free, and mine. For ten to fifteen more minutes. Hell yeah, I’m going to sit down and play with them.

Why aren’t I telling them not to? I wonder, as I deal us both cards and they pick theirs up and make cheeky ‘Hmmm’ sounds to throw me off. Why don’t I tell them, right now, how I feel? Why am I doing this to myself? Why am I here, is also a valid question but I already beat myself up over that last night when I was picking out my tie. I’m her friend, and they deserve to be… yuck. Happy, with the person they chose.

And I guess, that’s the answer to all my other questions too.

Let me just enjoy this last game, this last 600 seconds with them.

Oswald Cobblepot:

I remember the night when I almost kissed her Yeah, I kinda freaked out, we'd been friends for forever And I always wondered if she felt the same way When I got the invite, I knew it was too late

And I know her daddy's been dreading this day Oh, but he don't know he ain't the only one giving her away

As soon as Y/N leaves my side to go and freshen up for the aisle walk, I find myself a seat in the very back of the church / auditorium and rest in for the event. I will not be moving from this hidden away spot, in convenient shadow, with my secret flask of terrible smelling stuff that Victor gave me before arriving, until this shitshow is over and I can leave.

I’m only here in the first place, because Y/N asked me. And, evidently, my idiocy runs deep because I accepted such an invitation. I will do anything, for them. I learnt my lesson in dealing in peoples love lives, with Edward and Isobel- I will not let my relationship with Y/N go as badly as that one did, with Ed.

So if I must sit here and watch them marry that moron, (Fiancé’s Name), then that is what I’ll do. But I won’t sit in the front and watch it, and I will be as drunk as whatever this drink can make me.

Maybe I should text Victor, the deadly assassin, and ask what the contaminants are…

An unevolved, ap-like woman walks past my seat and I must be too close to the aisle because I can hear her yap like a strangled cat about what a cute couple Y/N and (Fiancé’s Name) are together and how they must be soulmates, and I don’t think twice before gulping down a huge mouthful of the alcohol. If this is how I die, then so be it, I think bitterly as I slide further down the aisle.

“Fuck!” The word comes out of me before I can stop it, my face probably the picture of horror and disgust. This… drink, if I can even call it that -more of an undiluted acid, if you ask me, - tastes like regret and earwax.

The same ape-like woman from before flashes a stern, disapproving look at me like she thinks she’s my mother, and I show her my middle finger. Uncouth, yes, but affective. This is a bad day, and I am in no mood to deal with bitches like her. She quickly looks away, and I take another, smaller, sip of the drink.

Another moment passes and the wedding doesn’t seem to be even a second closer to ending, so I sit up straight and close my eyes, holding the flask in my lap. Take me back to a better time…

In the silent, middle-of-the-conversation lapse moment, I allow myself to look down at Y/N’s mouth. They have a soft smile, left over from whatever we were just talking about, on their face as they sit comfortably in our silence and I suddenly feel total confidence. They’re here, with me, instead of off with that boy toy / girl toy / gender neutral or fluid toy. They’re with me. That must mean that I mean something to them, right? And Ed said they looked at me like… like, they love me. Or ‘care deeply’, as he put it. But we all know that was just his stiff version of the word ‘love’. Ever since Isobel… had her unfortunate accident… he’s been focused on one emotion only and it is not, love.

Anyway, the confidence spreads through me and I smile. It mixes with my perpetual desire to kiss them, and goddamnit, I should do it. I should just lean over and press a gentle kiss on their mouth- if they aren’t interested or pull away, I can blame it on the wine between us. If not…

Butterflies erupt in my stomach and my chest, and I’ve just lean an inch forward… when their phone rings on the table and I see (Boyfriends Name) flash on the screen.

I rush to lean completely back in my chair, as they answer. I don’t like to believe fate has anything to do with Gotham, but… that was entirely too close.

My eyes snap open and I roll my shoulders back, inhaling another, bigger slug of the contents of the flask and feel even angrier.

That was, most certainly not a better time, you nitwit.

Slenderman:

Bet she got on her dress now, welcoming the guests now

I could try to find her, get it off of my chest now But I ain't gonna mess it up, so I'll wish her the best now

I’ve been sitting in the back of this church, a place I likely shouldn’t ever enter in the first place -Well, at least I’m not Offender. I would probably burn to death, in that scenario, - for over 2 hours and I only got to see Y/N for 45 and a half minutes of that time.

Not that that really matters. Its more important that they see me. I certainly don’t want to see them. I don’t wish to see them, or their wedding clothes, or their wedding guests, or the stupid moony smiles on their faces, or the cake, or their partner. Definitely not their partner. If they show their face before they absolutely have to, or worse, talk to me, I will promptly go home and kill 30 people. I don’t want to be here.

I shouldn’t be here, in fact. If I were a good man, I wouldn’t be here. A good man would never turn up to a wedding that he know’s he’s just going to sit back in and think unholy, too-fond and too-angry thoughts about one of the marriage participants. Marriage is supposedly a sacred thing, and if I were this good man that I’m thinking about, I wouldn’t urinate on it like this.

But I am not a good man.

So, really, what would I know about what a good man, would do in the first place?

Enough thinking about good men, it’s making me queasy and very uncomfortable.

I don’t look around, but I can infer with general certainty, that Y/N will be welcoming all her other guests now that I ‘allowed’ -Not that I could have stopped them. They just didn’t want to leave me in my own company,- them to let me be alone here. And they’re in their wedding clothes, which look lovely on them, and their smiling and their giddy.

Giddy. Ugh, I hate that word, especially in this sense. Defined by the Cambridge English Dictionary as ‘feeling silly, happy, and excited and showing this in your behaviour’. And by the Oxford, to ‘Make (Someone) feel excited to the point of disorientation.’. Yes, I looked up these definitions and memorised them before I came, and loathe every single word, in that order.

Because apparently, as if it wasn’t already obvious by the very fact that I’m HERE, I hate myself.

This other person has made Y/N giddy, while I have to sit here and pretend, I’m happy for them both and that I don’t feel like vomiting for the first time in 5 centuries.

But I can’t do anything about it, because I love them, Y/N, and I will… I will not, allow myself to be the reason their wedding wasn’t perfect. So, I wish them the best.

Or I try my damn hardest to.

The Clown / Jeffry Hawk / Kenneth Chase:

So I'm in my black suit, black tie, hiding out in the back Doing a strong shot of whiskey straight out the flask I'll try to make it through without crying so nobody sees Yeah, she wanna get married Yeah, she gonna get married But she ain't gonna marry me

I don’t know if I’d call this a real wedding. For one, its in the entities realm so how ‘magical’ could it really be? And for another reason, the only white thing here is my grease paint. Its pretty laughable. I would laugh, in fact, if I didn’t know it would cause a coughing fit and bring attention to me as Y/N walks down the aisle- O don’t need them looking at me. I might accidentally blurt out an ‘oopsie’ or something not-at-all funny like that, with all the whiskey I’ve injected today. Not that that would be the biggest issue with these kids seeing that I’m here, in the first place. Only Y/N knows, I’m hiding by a tree.  

But, I digress I guess. They’re calling it a wedding. The big one with the beard is officiating -I guess he has an online certificate from before he was brought here,- , Y/N’s wearing a pit of plastic bag on their head like a make shift veil / bit of plastic bag fashioned sort of like a tie, and all the lovely little fingers, or survivors as they like to call themselves, watch. With silly gleaming smiles and hope in their eyes- Pft, suckers.

Honestly the idea of weddings in the first place make me a bit uncomfortable. All those wide eyes watching and perving on your happiness?? Seems pretty creepy to me, and I’ve been told I’m pretty creepy myself! So, I would know!

The fact that possibly the sweetest, perfect person I’ve ever had the pleasure of setting my gaze upon is the one getting married, has absolutely no stake on my take on weddings in this moment.

Absolutely not…

Aha… hahahaha…

I kill myself.

I kill them, too, but let’s put that on the backburner like their fingers, for now.

Let me wallow in self-pity for a while longer before we start making jokes.

Yeah, let me… I take a swig of my flask -a bee-oootiful concoction of all the most toxic hootch I have in my collection, and maybe also some actual poison maybe since I wasn’t paying much attention when I created it this morning and I keep it all in relatively the same place, - and savour the horrible flavour on my tongue. Let me wallow, for a little bit.

This is going to be a bad day, for these little fuckers when I get into the game.

[creepy-spooghetti]

A Hapless Endearment [Creepypasta x F. Reader]

Chapter 7 - I’m On My Way

With fatigue, she leans on the wall for support and stands, weakly stumbling to the sink, refusing to look at her reflection in the mirror as she bends over and turns the faucet on. She gets soap from the dispenser on her palm and rubs both of her hands together before holding them under the water to rinse them, and immediately after that, sticks her face underneath, hoping to rid herself of the foul taste still very present in her mouth. 

She spits minuscule pieces of undigested food into the sink, letting the cool water run over and wash them down the drain without another thought. The sickening stench of bile sitting in the porcelain bowl almost has her gagging once more, so she reaches over, pushes on the little silver lever, and flushes it down into the sewer pipes, never to be seen again. 

Only then does she look at herself in the reflecting glass hung over the sink, not surprised when she sees dark bags under her eyes and unnaturally pale skin, no doubt results from lack of sleep and getting hit by an extreme wave of nausea so suddenly. Her lip trembles from the exertion, her eyes distant, stressed wrinkles creasing her forehead. What is happening? Why is it happening? Why are such terrifying thoughts invading her subconscious each time she goes to sleep?

Perhaps she can blame this one on the news she received yesterday, but that doesn’t explain the strange symbol. Why would she draw such a thing? What does it even mean? And what about the buzzing noise? It’s accompanied each dream she’s had down here thus far, and it made itself apparent before and during she was heaving her lungs out yesterday. It also started when she saw that figure in the woods earlier. Is it connected to something?

She rubs at her eyes listlessly and pushes herself away from the sink at once, switching the light to the bathroom off and wandering back into the living room at a pace much slower than normal. Her eyes trail up from the floor to Marshmallow, who sits on the arm of the couch, eyes narrowed as he stares at her with dilated pupils. Maybe this should worry her; after all, animals can sense things that humans can’t. But she can’t bring herself to care very much. She just wants it all to stop. She doesn’t want to be sick 24\7, or have nightmares far worse than what’s considered healthy, or be on the look-out constantly for something that’s possibly hunting her down. 

She flops onto the couch rather sluggishly and runs her hands through her messy hair, gaining sight of the large symbol that she seemingly sketched onto the paper for unknown reasons. Come to think of it, her hand is beginning to cramp due to how tightly she had been holding that pencil after she woke up, and who-knows-how-long before then. Does she have an illness? Is there medication to cure it? Should she go to a doctor and explain her symptoms? She’d prefer to wait and get medical attention, if it is necessary, once she returns home, so she won’t burden her grandparents with her problems and cause them to worry. 

She knows for a fact that her parents wouldn’t give it much thought if she told them she needed to go to the doctor, nor would they be very concerned. If she told them the reason, having hallucinations, nightmares, irrational and paranoid thoughts, insomnia, they’d probably call her behavior ridiculous and refuse to allow her to make an appointment. Or would they? She is still their daughter— surely they couldn’t just brush aside something like that, right? 

Then again, her father did it with the murder of his sister and the disappearance of his nephew, so she can’t ever be sure. But what about her mother? Isn’t the whole maternal instinct thing still there with her? If her child was hurt or scared, isn’t it natural to be worried? 

She glances over at her phone, still sat on the coffee table charging, unable to rid herself of the sudden thought that creeps into her mind. Somebody to talk to would be nice. But would she actually listen?

Sure, her grandparents are just upstairs, but not only does she not feel like making that trek all the way to the second floor, but both her Nana and Pops are likely fast asleep. They've done more than enough for her already, and they have enough stress on their shoulders as it is. She wants to avoid troubling them with anything else and make them unnecessarily frantic about her health, both physical and mental.

Reaching out a hesitant, mildly trembling hand, she unplugs her phone and unlocks it, scrolling to contacts and swiping her thumb along the screen until she sees 'Mom'. Should she really? What if she disturbs her? Or wakes her up? Even if she did, that shouldn't be an issue once she hears about her daughter possibly having some mental illness that needs to be fixed.

Mental illness is a strong way to word it. She shakes her head, continuing to stare at the call icon that pops up once she clicks her mother's contact. It's just... stressed hallucinations. Or... or strange coincidences. Yeah, that's all.

Letting out a soft sigh, she presses the green button and brings the small device to her ear, hearing it ring several times as the anticipation in her heart grows. Is this a mistake? Should she back out? Maybe she's making a big deal over nothing.

"Hello?" She sucks in a sudden breath, heart rate increasing as the familiar voice meets her ear. How should she start this?

"Um... hi, Mom." Clear anxiety is present in her tone, though she hopes that it isn't as noticeable as she thinks. 

"Y\n? What is it?" There's a hint of irritation hidden in that sentence, but the girl tries to ignore it and instead focuses on the reason she called her in the first place.

"Y-yeah, uh... I need to talk to you."

"About what? You know I'm busy. If it's more questions about your father, you know I—"

"No, Mom, it isn't about Dad." She's silent a moment as she hears her mother's soft breaths over the line, trying to collect her thoughts and put them into words. "It's... it's about me."

"...Well? Did you make another painting or something?"

She shakes her head, though she knows it can't be seen. "It's... weird things that have been happening to me. I-I don't know what's going on but it's really getting to me, and I feel sick and tired and stressed out. I don't know what to do."

"What exactly has been 'happening' to you, Y\n?" Her hand tightens slightly around her phone and she lets out an inaudible sigh. 

"It started out with bad dreams... really bad dreams. Of people being dead, or freaky voices, or strange markings in a tree. A-and I've been seeing things in the middle of the night, or even in the day. I can't sleep because it's so scary and I'm afraid that when I go to sleep I'll have another nightmare..."

"Y\n," An exasperated sigh erupts from the other end. "aren't you a little too old to be scared of bad dreams or the boogeyman?" It's as if a knife is shoved into her chest from the harsh words of her mother, and she fights the tears stinging her eyes, attempting to keep her voice steady. 

"Mom, it... i-it isn't like that."

"You used to complain to me all the time about bad dreams when you were a kid. You aren't a kid anymore, Y\n. You're almost seventeen."

"It's more serious than just dreams, Mom—"

"Grow up. You're a teenager, Y\n. Act like it." The girl swallows hard and lands her hard gaze on the floor, unable to stop the tears from slowly rolling down her cheeks. 

"You're not even listening to me!" She keeps her voice in a whisper but raises it slightly to make sure she gets the older woman's attention. "This isn't some stupid childhood fear. It's something bad, and it's really affecting me..."

"I don't have time for this. I have about a weeks' worth of papers stacked up on my desk and I have to do them. You'll get over yourself eventually and stop being so childish. Goodbye, Y\n." Before she can say anything else, a beep is heard before the line goes dead, signifying that her mother hung up. What else was she expecting? Sympathy? Concern? Reassurance? She should've known better. 

"Fine," she snaps, slamming her phone down on the couch beside her and releasing a huff, "who needs you anyway?" She plants her face into the palms of her hands to stifle the quiet whimpers emanating from between her lips. "I have myself and that's all I need. You're just a... a useless, irresponsible, incompetent piece of crap for a mom." Her fingers run through her h\c locks and she shakes her head, trying to compose herself. "Why are you even a mom..."

Of course her mother would blow her off. Her very own flesh and blood, brush her aside as if she means nothing to her. It's what she's been doing for years now, so why would she expect any different? I'm stupid. I'm stupid for assuming she would be worried. She doesn't care about me. She just doesn't care. She never does.

Soon, her shoulders are shaking as sobs wrack her body. She has to go through this alone, doesn't she? Her parents won't help her, her grandparents don't need that kind of pressure. None of her friends, if she can even call them that anymore, can help her. And they wouldn't. She's the one that left them behind, and they owe her nothing.

She shakily stands to her feet, wiping away the tears with the back of her hands in order to clear up her vision so she doesn't trip over anything, and begins her ascent up the stairs, not caring to bring her phone and instead only turns off the lamp as she passes it by. She walks warily up the staircase, doing her best to avoid looking anywhere but the ground for fear of seeing something lurking in the darkness until she reaches her bedroom, thankful that the light was left on previously.

She's unsure if Marshmallow will even follow her this time and bring her some kind of company, though, considering the aggressive way he was acting just minutes ago, she highly doubts it. Her gaze falls onto her bed, then onto the window that it's attached to, unable to quell the rush of anxiety that goes through her chest. The last time she was in here, she saw... something. What was it? A trick of the light? No, surely not. It was too... strange to be a trick of the light. Not to even mention the droning that formed in her mind while she looked at it. The same kind of droning that was present in her dreams, and at the river with Jack.

Is this normal? If it was, you'd think there would be more talk about it. In blogs, on the news, in books. But she's seen no such thing. Shaking her head in dismay, she steps farther inside, edging her way toward the window and anticipating what may be standing on the other side of the glass. She takes in a deep breath, hoping to calm her nerves a bit and brace herself before peering around the corner, over past her bed, and straight through to the dark woods across from the cottage. 

She scans the treeline, her heart rate slowing down when she doesn't find anything out-of-the-ordinary and releases a puff of air she didn't know she was holding in, her muscles relaxing slightly. Nothing. There's nothing, so maybe, she can actually go to sleep without having to worry about anything creeping around. She doesn't want to sleep, but she doesn't want to get sick, again, either. Although that may happen anyway if she has another unexplainably terrifying dream. She can only hope that she'll get lucky and her mind will give her a break, at least for the rest of the night.

She doesn't know what time it is, and she can't gather up the energy to check. It doesn't even matter, does it? She glances over at her lamp, silently debating on whether she should turn it off to both save electricity and hopefully hide her position to anything that may be waiting outside, or if she should leave it on to give her peace of mind. She hasn't really liked sleeping with the light on, not since she was a small child, but recently it's sounded a lot more comforting than being surrounded by pitch blackness, save for the moonbeams shining in through the window and spilling out onto the floor. 

What's better, hiding or feeling safer? Maybe there's a way she can compromise and do both. Her eyes avert around the room, eventually landing on the closet across from where she's facing. Could she do that...? Wouldn't that corner her? But it would be safer than sleeping in front of a window where some cryptic being can plainly see me. She remembers seeing a couple of spare blankets folded up on a shelf, and she could use her pillows as both a headrest and a weak attempt at a barrier. As unappealing as it sounds, staying in clear view of whatever is currently trying to get into her head sounds even less so. Closet it is.

She steps over and opens the door, switching on the light and glimpsing around for a good, somewhat comfortable spot to take shelter in. Under the clothes? No, too tight. In the little cabinet of old, stored things belonging to her aunt? Again, too tight. She decides on the opposite end of the closet, in-between a shelf and the wall, not too cramped but not too open either. And she'd be able to see the door clearly. That'll work. 

She grabs the two pillows from off of her bed, plus an oversized teddy bear that had been originally sitting in the corner of the room, untouched, and goes back into the walk-in storage room, placing all three items in her self-proclaimed area of safety, before also taking a folded-up blanket from the small stack and tossing it onto the pillows. She releases a yawn, blinking slowly afterward and shutting the door behind her prior to double-checking the room for anything else she may need, only finding her water bottle, and switches off the lamp. 

She sets it on the floor and shifts around everything until it meets her intentions, dimming the overhead light on the lowest setting, then walks back over and sits down, wrapping the blanket around her b\t frame, leaning against the wall, and tucking the large stuffed bear into her side. This is good. She feels secure here. There is nothing that can get in here without her knowing about it first... unless it's a hallucination. Then she can't escape. "I guess that's where you come in, Fuzzy," she mutters, hugging the bear half her size to earn some type of reassurance and consolation she had failed to get from her mother.

She stares ahead of her, at the closed door, waiting to hear something. Waiting to hear the creak of floorboards or the stamp of footsteps, or see the knob to the door slowly twist as it swings open. But one minute passes, then two, then five, then eight. Nothing of the sort happens. She just stays there, her breathing leveling out the more time passes, and she finds herself becoming relaxed. Maybe she should sleep in a closet more often...

She snuggles into the soft, though mildly dusty, coat of the bear, inhaling its old, washed-out scent of vanilla and allowing her eyes to droop. "Protect me if the 'boogeyman' comes in here, alright?" Her voice comes out as no more than a whisper, indirectly mocking her mother's previous choice of words to describe her state before fluttering her eyes closed and drifting off into a surprising, though thankfully peaceful, sleep.

___

His footsteps are almost inaudible as he walks through the darkened forest, his senses heightened due to the gloom around him. He's always more active at night, and it's been that way since... well, since the incident took place, all that long ago. Or was it even that long ago? He supposes it feels longer than what it actually is, probably because off of everything that's happened the past few years. But in reality, it's only been, what... eight, nine years ago? He was only seventeen at the time, and physically, he always will be. If he had been able to fulfill his career choice and live a normal life without meeting her, then he would be around twenty-six. 

Maybe he'd have a girlfriend, heck, maybe he'd have a wife, although becoming a doctor takes years of dedication so he doubts that he would have the time to put that much commitment into a relationship. Either way, he would be happy. He wouldn't have to worry about being hunted by some otherworldly entity, or stocking up on the less-than-desirable diet his body has unfortunately given him. He wishes he could have something normal for a change... like pizza. He would just about kill for some pizza, preferably supreme, but pepperoni would work, too. 

He shakes his head in disregard at his own thoughts, knowing more than anyone that pizza wouldn't ever happen, just like enchiladas wouldn't happen, or cheese sticks, or even something simple like cereal. It isn't possible, and though he accepted that long ago, he still gets certain cravings for things he used to enjoy. If he even tried eating them, now, he'd be sick for a week. One of the many disadvantages of being him. If only, right?

He checks the map on his phone that Ben had sent him about two hours prior, the direction he was supposed to go marked with bright red ink and making it pretty hard to miss. Let's see, he already passed the river, and he knows she took a certain trail to get to it. Just which trail did she take? He would follow footsteps but there's too much grass obscuring the actual dirt beneath, and even though he can see to a point, his vision has still been drastically altered, so he can't make out any pristine details. 

He makes a turn and comes across an overgrown area of the trail he's been sticking with, though it looks like it's already been walked through several times. Up ahead a few feet is what looks to be a dirt road and past that sits a quaint property with a white picket fence, a garden, and a gate. This is the place he's been searching for, right? Guess there's only one way to find out.

Will great stealth, he slinks out from behind the trees, creeping across the natural driveway and up to the house, where he hopes his target is currently resting inside. If she's awake, it would make his job quite a bit harder, and he doesn't want to take any lives if it's unnecessary. Once he's directly in front, he scans possible entry points that wouldn't draw attention. A window? Sure, if the front door isn't locked. He quietly jiggles the knob after opening the screen, only to find that yes, the door is locked. Just his luck, but he'd be lying if he said he wasn't expecting it. 

He peers in through the first window he sees on the bottom floor, quickly realizing that it leads to the living room. All of the lights are off, and it doesn't look like anybody is currently active. Releasing a silent breath from his nose, though instantly being hit with a familiar bout of hot air thanks to his mask, he slips his fingers beneath the rim, briefly tugging upward and being grateful when the window slides up without much struggle. 

There's a table placed in front of it, but he can easily maneuver over that. Conquering obstacles is something that he's mastered over the years of breaking and entering other peoples' households, so one measly table shouldn't halt his process too much. With one hand, he holds the strap of his satchel that's been thrown over his shoulder in order to anchor it to his side to make sure it doesn't make any noise, and with the other, he grips the side of the wall, skillfully propping himself up and slipping through the now-open space lacking so much as a thud. 

Once his feet hit the carpet beneath them, he does a quick one-eighty of the room, wanting to make sure he isn't disturbing anything by making his appearance, and closing the window when he deems the coast clear. She never mentioned anything about having a dog, or any other kind of pet when he talked to her, then again he didn't exactly ask her about it, either. Maybe he got lucky this time.

Thought too soon, Jack, he thinks as he finally notices the fluffy white feline perching on the back of the couch, ears folded back as it quietly growls at him. Of course it's a cat. It couldn't have been a bunny, a gerbil, or even a ferret, no. It had to be a freaking cat. When he was still human, he was never particularly fond of them, but now he hates them with a passion. They get under his feet when he's trying to work and trips him, they scratch and bite him, they latch on and it takes a lot of force to get them off. Granted, he can and does get rid of them pretty easily, but they're still obnoxious little creatures.

But he has to admit, as bad as cats are, dogs are even worse in these types of situations. At least cats stay quiet. Dogs, however, he can't get dogs to shut up. Especially little ones, like Chihuahuas and Pomeranians. God, those things love barking. How could anyone want to put up with something that isn't even cute barking constantly? He isn't Smile's biggest fan, but he puts his barking to use. And he never gets in his way. At least he can respect bigger dogs for that very reason because they actually protect rather than just yap all the time.

He huffs, brushing the insignificant thoughts aside and walking farther into the living room, ignoring the growls of protest from the cat attempting to defend its territory and making it very clear to Jack who this place belongs to. Not that he cares, he just wants to get in and back out without much trouble. As he passes the couch, something catches his attention. Not only is there a phone lying discarded on the cushion, but there also seems to be a pencil, and beside it is a sketchbook. 

He leans down a bit to get a better look, seeing and instantly recognizing the large symbol drawn—or more like scribbled— on the piece of paper, completely overriding the original picture beneath it. Not much care seems to have been taken while it was being created, which is normal if it was made during the frantic state that he imagines it to have been made in. It's been apparent to him that Y\n was being greatly affected by him, but now she's to the point of drawing his symbol, his mark? That isn't good. His stomach does an uncomfortable flip, and he spins around, going up the staircase of the house after making sure there are no bedrooms down here with him. 

The hallway on the second floor likely leads to various rooms, his only problem is looking discreetly into each one and identifying his target. He chooses to check the first door on the left, the door inexplicably wide open, only to find a nicer than average girly room. He assumes this to be where Y\n is sleeping, but to his slight surprise, he doesn't see her in the bed. Well... maybe she's staying elsewhere? But why would there be bags on the floor if there was nobody staying inside? Is this someone else's room?

He peeks back out into the hallway, seeing what he recognizes as a bathroom unoccupied right beside a closed door, likely one leading to another bedroom. And at the very end of the corridor is a door also closed. Which one of these rooms leads to her grandparents? Is he even in the right house? He has to be. Unless he's just conveniently landed himself in the home of another individual that's being mentally tormented by the ominous creature, which is highly doubtful. They would know about it.

He hears the sudden squeak of a door as it opens, and just barely catches a glimpse of a masculine figure stepping out into the hallway before he darts back into the previous bedroom, ducking for cover inside of what he assumes is a closet. He closes the door softly behind him, being careful not to make any sound whatsoever, and takes a step back, only just starting to notice the dim lighting around him. He tilts his head up, seeing a light bulb attached to the ceiling, and confirming that it's the source of the light. The question is, why would the closet light be on when virtually every other light in the house is turned off?

Looking back and into the small walk-in closet, he sees a figure curled up in the corner, bundled up in a blanket and hidden behind the clothes hanging in front of her. She's holding tightly onto what looks like a large teddy bear, her eyes are closed, and her breathing is mellow and steady. She's asleep. Good. 

He's been getting to her. She must've thought the closet was safer than anywhere else. He eases closer to her, squatting down in front and making sure to not wake her up. Getting a better look at her face, he can tell that she most certainly is the girl he's been trying to find, and quietly opens his satchel, sticking his hand inside and pulling out a needle and a small, clear bottle of a powerful anesthetic. It isn't his go-to method, usually, he would use Midazolam or even Chloroform, but then again, he isn't currently trying to sedate one of his victims, he just wants to knock her out long enough to bring her back, all without harming her in the process.

He sticks the end of the needle into the lid of the glass container after properly sanitizing it, draws the correct amount needed for the injection, and puts the bottle back into the bag. He snaps his fingers in front of her face in order to test how deep of a sleep she's in. It would be hazardous if she woke up as the mediation was being given to her, it would also be mildly frustrating and make his job even more strenuous. Thankfully, her eyes don't even flutter, giving him the leeway he needs to lightly take her arm, twist it around, stretch it, and stick the end of the needle through her skin. 

He notices when she flinches, but only slightly, and he begins to inject the sedative into her system. He had no trouble locating a blood vein, as he could hear the blood coursing through her arm from several feet away; yet another ability he possesses that makes people fear him. Most could compare him to a vampire, what, with his unnaturally sharp teeth and his constant craving for human blood. It isn't his fault, it never has been. But he's learned to accept it, no matter how disgusting it may be to others.

His intention is that it will keep her knocked out for around two hours, preferably four or five, in case he runs into any delays. This particular bottle of medicine is the only one he has that causes longer-lasting unconsciousness without any life-threatening symptoms, and he got it by mixing Propofol with another mild, over-the-counter drug with lengthy repercussions. Perhaps not the best thing to use, but oh well, it's all he has at his grasp. He isn't actually a doctor, no matter how much he may be treated like one. 

He slides the needle out of her arm, places it into a Ziplock bag, and puts the bag into his satchel, looking down at her when he senses movement. She rubs the area that the drug was injected through, eyes only half-way open as she brings her arm up to her chest, likely wondering where the small twinge of pain came from so abruptly. He stays still, waiting to see if she'll notice his presence or just go back to sleep. It won't be too much of an inconvenience, either way, considering the medicine should be taking effect in the next couple of minutes.

She blinks slowly, shifting around in her position to get more comfortable, and landing her bleary gaze on the startling figure squatting directly in front of her. Letting out a strangled gasp, she tries to crawl backward, though the wall pressed up against her back prevents that and gives him the opportunity to reach out and force his hand against her mouth, muffling her yelps of protest. He can almost swear that her skin gets pale as she takes in his unusual features; a reaction he isn't phased by at all. He's a monster, right? It's only natural to fear him. 

She grabs at his wrists, attempting to push him away and twisting her legs out of the blanket covering her body to try and get a good kick in. Only when she frees her legs does he lunge forward and straddle her, stopping any attempts she may have made to harm him, and looks directly into her wide, panicked eyes with his black, tar-dripping sockets. 

"Calm down," he instructs in a quiet, yet authoritative voice, putting more of his weight on top of her as her striving to escape gradually increases. She thrashes, pulls at his arms, punches his chest, though he makes sure to keep his neck craned back to avoid getting hit in the face. Even with his mask on, offering a layer of protection, it wouldn't exactly feel good. He knows this from experience.

She tries screaming and yanking her head out of his strong grip, though fails, and can't stop her eyes from watering from the utter terror that rushes through her.

"You're okay, just calm down." He keeps his tone gentle, knowing the thoughts that must be racing through her mind at lightening speed and wanting to make this easier on himself. The faster the drug works, the quicker he can get out of here and go back to the base. She doesn't listen to him, either that, or she's physically incapable of listening with the erratic beating of her heart thumping in her ears and briefly deafening her. 

They both sit there for another couple of minutes, her struggling getting weaker the groggier she gets until eventually, her eyes hesitantly close and her body goes limp. Before he does anything, he needs to make sure that one guy—probably her grandfather— went back to bed after using the restroom. Jack knows he was, indeed, in the bathroom because he heard the toilet flush from the other side of the wall, though he didn't hear any footsteps. 

Stealthily, he stands to his feet, walks out of the closet, and looks out into the hall just in time to see the bedroom door close softly. Perfect. Now hopefully it will all continue going as smoothly as it has been so far. He returns to the closet, taking her hands and pulling her motionless body up, and wrapping his arms around her torso before she can fall back down. Making sure he has a firm hold on her waist, he bends down, allows her body to drop over his shoulder and across his back, before standing back up, tightening his grip around her and quickly adjusting to the extra body weight as he turns and steps out of the closet. 

Hoody never told him to grab any of her things, so he assumes that he'll take care of that himself, even though he's not sure how. Is he going to sneak into her house to take them, or just get one of the girls to pick up a whole new wardrobe? Those questions are meaningless right now, he supposes, and he doesn't let it take up too much of his time before dismissing them altogether and making his way cautiously down the staircase, the girl slung over his shoulder making it a little more difficult than it normally would be. 

His hand slides down to her thighs as he comes up in front of the door, and he uses his other one to soundlessly unlock it, not willing to go back through the window with the unconscious girl and take a chance on alerting the other members residing in the household of his presence, drop her, or both, so he opts to go harmlessly through the door. Twisting the knob, he eases the door open, then the screen, inwardly wincing when it lets out a rather loud and obnoxious squeak. 

Not wanting to stick around and take any chances on being heard, he hurries out onto the porch, softly shutting the door and screen behind him, and quickens his pace once he's out of the yard and through the gate. He scans the treeline, making sure there's nothing insidious waiting for him inside, before taking his original path and pulling out his phone. He clicks on Hoody's contact and presses the phone to his ear, waiting for the ringing to stop.

"Did you do it?"

"Yeah, I got her. I'm coming back now."

[thefloatingstone]

We’ve gone from Self-Isolation to Quarantine and in some places to gradual relaxation phases, but that doesn’t stop the need for more nonsense you can watch on youtube while you wait for things to get back to normal. And recommending things and making lists are some of my favourite things to do but I have not yet figured out how to start or structure a video myself, you guys get another rambling tumblr post of things you can watch on youtube.

This time I’m once again just gonna recommend individual videos rather than full channels like I did in part 2.

Part 1

Part 2

In no particular order; 

LOCAL58: The Broadcast Station that Manipulates You

I recently started watching the Nexpo channel when I went on a binge of creepy youtube videos. Most of his videos are really good although the ones where he himself goes into theory crafting can be a little asinine. However, this video is REALLY good. And before you get nervous, LOCAL58 is not a real TV station. LOCAL58 is a youtube channel created by the same guy behind the Candle Cove creepypasta. This video by Nexpo covers the various episodes of LOCAL58 and discusses them. Just be aware going in that this is abstract horror, and will probably get under your skin regardless if you’re unaffected by certain topics or not. although cw for suicide mention.

I also recommend most of the rest of this channel, although be careful where you tread. I don’t recommend his series “Disturbing things from around the internet” as it can sometimes include real life crime, abuse and such caught on security cameras. Everything else is really good tho. (although I was really annoyed by his 2 videos on KrainaGrzybowTV)

The Search for D.B. Cooper

LEMMiNO has a new video out covering one of the most unexplained crimes in the past century of the US. LEMMiNO is the guy I’ve recommended before who did videos on the Universal S. He is very down to earth and not someone prone to conspiracy or even really that fanciful of thinking. (He’s like the one person I feel covered the Dyaltov Pass incident and was confused by why this was even a mystery because if you read the Russian Autopsy reports and documents associated with the case it’s all pretty logical and easily explained)

D.B. Cooper is the name given to a man who, in 1971, hijacked an airplane with a bomb, asked for a large sum of money, and after receiving it, parachuted from the plane and was never seen or heard from again.

The Austrian Wine Poisoning | Down the Rabbit Hole

Down the Rabbit Hole also has a new video out, this time covering the Austrian Wine Poisoning event from 1985. A scandal that involved literally the entire country of Austria, affected multiple countries, and forever changed the way wine was made world wide. As someone who is generally pretty allergic to most artificial substances this one made me personally very angry. But luckily, it has a happy ending and a better world for us all... if I could drink wine which I can’t do anyway.

The Turbulent Tale of Yandere Dev - A Six Year Struggle

The Right Opinion is another channel I only recently subbed to after watching his cover on Onion Boy. I put off subbing to him simply because of his channel name and I thought it meant he would come across as smug and elitist. Luckily this seems to merely be one of those “I chose a bad channel name and now I’m stuck with it” type of situations. (IHE has a similar problem).

Anyway, I have a weird interest in bizarre internet personalities, so I’ve been enjoying his channel as he simply discusses and presents a timeline of events of certain individuals. In this video, he covers the developer behind the much maligned Yandere Simulator. It’s a tale of hubris, arrogance, immaturity, and an unwillingness to accept your own shortcomings due to ego.

Oh and there’s a meme game about Japanese school girls with anime tiddies in there as well.

The Most Relaxing Anime Ever Made | Yokohama Kaidashi Kikō

Kenny Lauderdale is a youtube channel which is slowly becoming bigger which I’m very happy to see. He exclusively covers anime and live action Japanese television no younger than the mid 90s (as is the case with YYK) and which usually never saw a release outside of Japanese Laserdisc. I do wish his videos were a little longer, but if nothing else his videos serve as an excellent starting to point to find some older and underappreciated shows... or hot garbage fires. In this episode he talks about the 2 OVA episodes made based on one of my favourite manga, Yokohama Shopping Log. A Post apocalyptic anime about an android who runs a coffee shop outside of her house, and the quiet solitude of living in a world of declining human population, brief encounters with travelers and other people, and just... existing. The anime was never released outside of Japan and is only available on Japanese VHS and laserdisc.... but hey guess what!! Somebody uploaded both episodes, subbed, to Youtube.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=C2HCVOH6DtA

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yqSTwfkobME

YMS’ slow descent into madness as he uncovers just how bullshit the Kimba Conspiracy is

I’m linking a full playlist for this one.

YMS is busy planning his review on the “live action” Lion King remake as the original 1994 movie is probably his favourite movie all time (and also self declared what made him a furry). As part of the 2 hour review, he decided to what all 2000 hours of Kimba the White Lion just to mention how The Lion King potentially stole the idea. ....until he actually watched all 2000 hours of Kimba and realised that if you actually WATCH Kimba, it has VERY little to do with the Lion King at all apart from having the same animals in them because AFRICA. Watch as one man slowly loses his mind as he realises just how stupid this conspiracy theory is, just HOW DECEITFUL and straight up LYING people can be. People who write BOOKS. People who teach LAW AT UNIVERSITIES. Because NOBODY bothered to actually watch the entire show and just parroted the “Disney stole this” lie which got started by like 2 salty fans on the internet.

The man set out to just mention how Disney stole an idea, and uncovered one of the most infuriating rabbit holes on the internet. Screaming for SOMEONE to provide him with sources or evidence.

YMS will be publishing his full Kimba documentary this month which he has said is around 2 hours long before he continues to work on the Lion King one.

Science Stories: Loch Ness eDNA results, Poop Knives, and Skeleton Lovers

TREY the Explainer has a video giving us some updates in Archeology from 2019. In this video he discusses the findings of the eDNA results conducted on the Loch Ness to see what animal DNA the lake contains which will tell us what living animals currently inhabit the lake, ancient knives made of poop and if this is a real thing that could have existed, and a skeleton couple found buried together which were at first thought to be lovers, then revealed to be both male, and then how in this instance we cannot let our modern sensibilities dictate what we WANT this burial find to be, but to look at the evidence as presented to us and place in context finds of this nature. The worst thing an archaeologist can do is look for proof to a theory they already have.

The Bizarre Modern Reality of Sonic the Hedgehog

Super Eyepatch Wolf is back and he’s here to talk to us about the very very strange existence of Sonic. a 90s rebellious “too cool for School” answer to Mario, a lost idea as the world of video games changes and culture shifted, a meme and punching bag amplified by a unique fanbase and poor quality games, a transcendence into a horrific warped  idea of what he once was, and modern day and where Sonic and his fans are now. As usual Super Eyepatch Wolf knocks it out of the park.

Kokoro Wish and the Birth of a Multiverse: A Lecture on the Work of Jennifer Diane Reitz

I don’t even sub to this channel as I’m not entirely sure what Ben’s usual content is about. But every now and then he has a “101″ class, where he explains to a room full of his friends in a classroom setting (complete with Whiteboard) an internet artist and oddity, the timeline, and what it is they have created. (wait... didn’t I say this already?). Unlike TRO however, the 101 classrooms are not a dark look into disturbed individuals (although the CWC 101 is debatable) nor is it a “lol look at this weirdo” dragging. Instead, of the 3 he’s done so far, it’s usually a rather sympathetic look at some of the strange artists on the internet who through some way or another, left a very big cultural impact on the internet space through their art. Sometimes they may not be the best people, but their work is so outside of what we’re used to seeing that just listening to him run you through these people’s internet history is fascinating.

In this episode he talks about Jennifer Diane Reitz. And although it is titled Kokoro Wish, the lecture is more about Jennifer’s larger work back in the early internet when being a weeb was unheard of, how being trans influenced her stories and characters, and her world building that is so rich and in-depth with it’s own ASTRO PHYSICS it puts any modern fictional world found in games or movies to shame.

Jennifer is not exactly a nice person... and in many ways can be seen as dangerously irresponsible, but she created something truly unique in a way that you kinda struggle figuring out if it’s terrible or a work of genius.

Anyway I think that’s enough for now

[hydemind]

Your thoughts on Isaac, William, Frankie an Jack 🎤?

OHHHHHH CROW I COULD GO ON ABOUT THEM FOR HOURS.

this post is SUPER FUCKING LONG so for the first time in my life im using a read more link.

I'm gonna start out with Will, who, a little fun fact, isn't actually named William! His full name is Willis Grossman. His parents thought it'd be funny. Will doesn't know his full name.

Here are some other fun facts about me and @functionentropy 's Will (along with other characters below) (he is also the one who has been making this entire creepypasta interp with me! Go check out their art or else /lh):

Will was born in the late 1800s early 1900s!

His parents were a lot like a Bonnie and Clyde duo, and they cared and loved for Will very, very much.

Will always looked up to Isaac! He wanted to be exactly like his grandpa when he grew up. Isaac was also a wonderful grandfather as well.

Will, on his 13th birthday, got Isaac's mask as a gift. When he got it, Isaac said to him: "keep it safe. It's a family heirloom.", Will uses that excuse as to why he still wears it to this day.

Speaking of Isaac, he's the underrealm equivalent to a tumblr sexyman. Everyone thinks he's hot shit, but that also goes for a lot of serial killers residing in the underrealm. Will unfortunately had to see his grandfather on magazine covers talking about the underrealm's HOTTEST NEW KILLER. He hates it.

Will ran away from home after Isaac died at around the age of 20 to 21, and considering he was a legal adult, his parents couldn't do much. They're still looking for him. (How, you may ask? Well, a little thing about the underrealm is that it stunts growth. You're essentially unable to die of old age down there. Think shitty immortality. His parents are looking for him, and they know he's in the underrealm- so that's how they are still around!)

Will had the worst time in the underrealm for the first few years he was down there. He wasn't immediately enrolled in the institution and he had a hard time holding down a job. Eventually he met Frankie! They live(d) in an apartment together. The first time Frankie met Will he thought he was Isaac and told his landlord and him HELL NO. Frankie does not like Isaac. Cue [will's offended gasp] and him saying he's his GRANDSON, and WHY IS HE ACTING LIKE ISAAC SUCKED? Cue Frankie making fun of him for being a grandpa's boy.

Frankie and Will had a bumpy relationship for a while. Will wasn't always a good person. Not really bad, just a fucking dumbass.

Speaking of Frankie...

Here's stuff about Frankie!

Frankie's origin story is essentially the same in this interp. Except for the fact that Frankie very much HAD A PAST. (which. If u wanna know more........I would love to talk about it......but this is about CURRENT Frankie so if u wanna know more bro just pop up in my dms or send another ask im feeling wild tonight)

After Amy passed (which was NOT due in part to the operator in this universe. The operator just found her like that) he was found by Bell (prince beelzebub, ruler of the underrealm at that point). You should know Frankie wasn't always an adjusted and normal fuckin person. He was like a rabid dog for a good while there.

While Frankie was unhinged he fucking death rolled Daisy the first time they met. (Daisy is an oc! I'm willing to talk more about him if you want the deets. He's interesting :]) because of this Daisy is the only one allowed to openly make fun of Frankie. (Playfully, of course.)

Daisy and Bell both basically helped Frankie adjust to society.

Frankie is autistic! So is Will. And Isaac. All. Everyone. Everyone has autism. (Shhhh. i'm projecting.)

Frankie can see souls! He's a very good judge of character because of it. However Frankie doesn't know what he's seeing is people's souls.

Frankie goes specifically after bad people. He'll take jobs from bad people, but he'll kill them, too. He says "he's sending them back to where they belong".

Frankie was the first to really show Will killing isn't just something you do. It's more than that. Will had never really processed death and murder of his fellow man like that before. He has a hard time even processing people as people sometimes, outside those of whom he cares for. This is because of Isaac. Isaac taught Will that people are bad- all of them. And that killing them is preventing them from hurting others, even if they haven't yet.

Frankie is a good guy and honestly a softie deep down. He worries and cares for all those who are close to him, even if he doesn't act like it sometimes.

Frankie says Toby "kidnapped him" and "made him diseased". 1. Frankie can very much leave the household at any time and 2. Frankie is referring to the operator sickness. Speaking of that-

Frankie was dragged through the operator's own personal hell! (Aka the realm they reside in more often than not, aka the place that Tim gets tossed around in near the end of marble hornets.) Reason being was because he threatened Toby's life. The operator is very protective of Toby.

Speaking of that, someone else was around when Toby met Frankie...

ONTO LAUGHING JACK!

ohhh man. Oh man. Oh baby. This clown is FULL of illness. Alright. So let's start off simple:

Lj was of course, made for Isaac. That's still a consistency. What isn't is that lj was around Isaac for a lot longer than in the original story. They developed a very close bond over the years they knew eachother, but, all good things must come to an end.

Lj returned to his box when Isaac left for boarding school. However, unlike the original story....Isaac didn't really come back to open the box. In fact, the most Isaac did was...well, I'll wait to spill that for Isaac's part later.

However! Eventually the house got passed off to another family. Years, and it mean YEARS later someone found lj's box in the attic! They were an unfortunate casualty.

After this, lj went and hunted Isaac down. Cue gore filled murder scene.

Things to note: LJ feels HORRIBLE about what he did to Isaac. He regrets it everyday. He wishes he had never done that to him.

But, time skip a bit.. we're further in the future now. LJ has his carnival set up and hidden away in an empty spot in the forest. He eventually comes across a wandering spirit because of this. This wanderer just so happens to be Sally!

LJ takes her in and swears to protect her with his life. In a way, you could say he sees her as a chance of redemption.

Sally was a wandering spirit, meaning she never really was stuck to one spot in particular- also meaning she wasn't very strong. Because of this, LJ gave her some of his own angelic essence. This boosted Sally and essentially made her a poltergeist!

(Note: Sally doesn't know how she died. Also, none of the things in her og story happened to her in this one. Fuck mishimishi. All my homies hate mishimishi.)

A little while after this they actually meet Toby and Jeffery! But this is getting long and to explain THAT entire debacle would make it even longer. but again I fully invite you to send more asks or just straight up dm me if you wanna know!

Now, last, but certainly not least..

ISAAC GROSSMAN.

OH MAN. Isaac is a DOOZY. Just like LJ, this baby is chocked FULL of illnesses! *slaps the top of his head like the roof of a car* but also, fair warning here: im gonna be talking about some heavy stuff. Abuse, physical and mental, gore, just. Death in general. Cannibalism, and EXTREME MENTAL ILLNESS *loud airhorn* so if any of that stuff gets to you steer clear of this part!

Anyways, let's start out simple!

Isaac was born in victorian England.

Isaac's mother was terrible towards him. I'm talking mental and physical abuse. She was a horrible, horrible woman.

Isaac's father...he wasn't a good person either, but he didn't beat Isaac. Nor did he really mentally abuse him either. He just...let it happen. He didn't even hurt his mother like he did in the original story. Isaac's mother was just plain bad for no good reason.

Isaac was sort of. Born having mental illness. They didn't just develop for him due to the abuse he experienced, though they certainly DID make it worse. There were other mental issues he has now that developed due to the abuse, however.

LJ was quite literally a godsend for Isaac. Metaphorically and not Metaphorically. LJ made Isaac happy, gave him comfort, and was basically like the mom he never had.

that's why it was so hard on Isaac when he had to leave lj behind. For a while he even had hallucinations of lj while in boarding school (which only furthered his future belief that lj was a hallucination brought on by the need to cope).

Isaac's first technical "murder" you could say was at boarding school. He pushed a shitty teacher down the stairs when there was no one around and they died. It wasn't even premeditated- more like it just sort of..happened.

Eventually Isaac graduated. When he did, he promptly returned home and killed his parents, as you do. /s

Isaac killed his mom in a rather violent fashion in comparison to his father- he whiplashed her so hard she fucking died.

Not long after this Isaac started his..well. I guess you could call it career.

Basically you know what happens after that. human skin chair, yadda yadda yadda, underrealm's sexiest killer, you know the drill.

Isaac did more than the human skin chair though! In fact, he uh. He. He did a lot. He did. SO much. But that was because Isaac believed in not wasting any part of the body. Which means Isaac not only made human skin chairs, but he was an avid cannibal, as well. (Fun fact, this very much extended to Will's father, mother, and Will as well. Will didn't know they were eating human for a long time. He had to realize that on his own.)

Eventually, Isaac punched his ticket because of LJ. But..I'd be a liar to say he really died.

No, our wonderful boy Isaac didn't die. He became a ghoul. Which, by the way, only further fucked with Isaac mentally! He's so ill. Some other things happened which I won't say here because they're spoilers for the fanfic I'm working on (Oh yeah the hyperfixation is that bad, but if you wanna know, again, I fully invite you to ask), but basically Isaac eventually gets taxidermied by, drumroll please..TOBY!!!! yeah. Toby does taxidermy as a job. He invited a new type of it for taxidermying Isaac. It was to repay daisy for something he did for the group.

But to say, again, that THAT was Isaac's end, would be another lie! No no no. Isaac was alive during the entire process! The good news is that he's never looked better after he escaped daisy's house when it got exploded by Frankie. Which..that's uh..another story for another day. This post is already insanely long and I am NOT putting it in the main tags.

So yeah! Im absolutely crazy for these dudes and I love all of them. By the way if you couldn't guess before Frankie and Will very much get together and are so so gay. Another little thing: Isaac is gay too, he had a past relationship with a man by the name of Dr. Locklear! Locklear is French German and his accent shows it. They were very close but fell out because of Locklear being involved with the institution and...a certain foundation.

I'll leave it to you to ponder on that one.

[the-genesis-caveat]

i’ve been listening to way too many creepypastas.

@irrelevant-proxy-bitch as promised, my creepypasta sona/oc origin story. hopefully it meets the standards, heh

Genesis Caveat Origin

or, How I Became a Proxy

That thing is watching me again.

I first noticed it after a particularly boring day of school. I hadn’t paid attention in most of my classes, instead opting to scroll through Tumblr, mess around on Discord, and listen to Creepypasta readings on Youtube. I’m probably failing most of my classes at this point. I can’t bring myself to care. I can’t bring myself to care about much of anything these days. Fiction is the only thing that piques my interest, those made-up worlds are so much more entertaining than the boring one I’m stuck living in. That’s probably why I like writing so much, I can create and destroy whole worlds with no consequence to me, I can control everything and nothing, and it can be as entertaining as I want it to be.

I’m getting off-track. Sorry.

I’d been ignored all day, as per usual, so when I was walking home and felt someone watching me, I was confused and more than a little curious. I normally walk at a fairly quick pace, but I slowed my steps a little when I felt I was being watched. I turned to look behind me, but no one was there. The sidewalk was empty. Actually, the whole street was empty, which is what caused my anxiety to spike. There were no people, no cars, even the storefronts looked empty. I turned back forward and picked up my pace again, walking quickly all the way home. It wasn’t until I’d reached my front door that I realized the feeling of that stare had vanished the instant I’d turned around.

Since then, I’ve felt that stare every time I walk home from school.

After the first day, I didn’t bother looking back. Something told me I wouldn’t be able to see anyone if I did. I was more than a bit creeped out by the whole thing. Why was someone spying on me? How long had they been watching me before I noticed? I was half-convinced I’d been singled out because I’m a textbook wallflower- no one at school would know if I went missing, and they definitely wouldn’t care. If someone snatched me while I was on my way to school, my parents wouldn’t find out until I was late getting home, and by then their frantic calls to the school and police wouldn’t do a thing- I’d probably be long gone.

I guess I was right about that part, heh. Just not for the reasons I thought.

. . .

I’m getting ahead of myself. Where were we? Ah, right.

It’s the seventh day of me being stared at as I’m walking home from school. For the past week, caution won out over curiosity, and instead of trying to spot whoever’s stalking me, I’ve just gotten home as fast as I can. I also made a habit of texting my parents when I leave school- they know how long it’s supposed to take me to get home, so if I get kidnapped they’ll know sooner. Same as when I head to school in the mornings, because I’ve been feeling the gaze on me then too.

I think part of me always knew it wasn’t human.

Shit, sorry. Focus.

Anyway, walking home. Seventh day in a row. Blah blah blah. Only this time, my curiosity outweighed my caution. Maybe I was just so damn bored of the life I had, that I’d do anything to mix things up. Actually, I’m sure that’s what it was. Suffice to say, as I walked down the eerily empty street, this time I slowed my steps instead of speeding them up. Then I slowly turned my head to look behind me. And saw it. The thing that was stalking me. I only caught half a second’s glance before it vanished, but that was enough. The details flashed in my mind. Tall, freakishly so. Black suit, torn sleeves. Something like tentacles raised up behind it. And the face- no face. At least not that my mind allowed me to see.

Then it vanished.

I spun back forwards and sprinted the rest of the way home.

The minute I got home I locked myself in my bedroom, drawing the curtains closed and booting up my laptop. A barely comprehensible entry in the Google search bar was autocorrected in seconds, and with a shaking hand, I moved the mouse to click on the images tab. Photoshopped pictures, fanart, and blurry photos stared back at me.

“I knew it.”

Like I mentioned at the start of this narration, I listen to a lot of creepypasta readings on Youtube. So I’m familiar with some of the stories. Laughing Jack. Jeff the Killer. Lost Silver. So many others. And of course, the one that started it all.

Slenderman.

“Holy fuck.”

I was being stalked by Slenderman. Why? And why hadn’t he killed me? I needed answers. Luckily, the internet is a magnificent place. I curled up in my swivel chair and started typing away, searching up everything I could about Slenderman and his proxies. Even the stuff I already knew, I read or listened to again. I took in as much information as possible. It’s said that knowledge is power, and for some things, the more you know, the more danger you’re in. But in this case, well. I’d seen him. He knew I’d seen him. What did I have to lose?

The next time I look at my clock, it’s nearly five in the morning. I’d done about all the research my brain could handle, even with my hyperfixations running at full throttle. More info probably wouldn’t matter anyway.

I’d made my decision, my plan.

Now, to execute it.

I empty my backpack of school supplies and pulled out a Sharpie. Lowering the felt tip to the fabric on the inside of the backpack, I let out a slow breath. With things like this, power always came from belief, at least that’s what the stories told me. I’d seen him, I knew it was real, it was all real. Now that I knew that, anything was possible. The line between fiction and reality is blurring.

As an author, it’s my job to break it.

I scribble a phrase on the inside of the backpack and capped the sharpie. Then I reach over to one of the books I’d stacked in the ‘bring with’ pile and drop it in.

The book hit the bottom of the bag and vanished.

I grin and reach in, hand passing through a cool sort of veil. I feel around, grabbing the book, and pull it out. It worked. It worked! I giggle, flapping my free hand in excitement. Pocket dimension backpack, success!! I start piling the books into it, all the stories I will carry with me. Then my sketchbooks and drawing supplies. My laptop, chargers, wallet, phone, anything I think I might potentially need. Even some of the food and drinks I’d snuck into my room. My blankets and pillow. Some clothes I’d grown attached too. Hell, let’s bring my stuffed animals and collection of keepsakes too, why not? It can all fit! I empty my shelf of little knick-knacks into the backpack. Nearly everything that I can lift in my room has gone into that pack.

Now… to wait.

7am. I make my move.

I stand in front of the mirror in my room, looking myself over. I’m wearing an outfit I wear almost every day. Grey jacket with a red upside-down heart on the chest, grey shorts with red on the edges, boots, a long red scarf, and a pair of fingerless gloves. The only difference is that now, all my clothes have been altered by my newly discovered ability. I’m calling it “author powers” because that’s the closest I can get to properly explaining it. Now, my entire ensemble is fireproof, waterproof, and much harder to cut through that ordinary cloth. My boots are much more comfortable and molded to my feet. Everything fits just right.

Oh, one more thing. I pick up the blue-light glasses I’d left on my desk. I don’t even have to write on them to alter them, but it’s a fun little gimmick so I might just keep doing it. A couple lines on the glasses, and they’re suddenly much more useful. They’ll function as sunglasses now too, as well as a night vision and heat-seeking mode. And they’ll stay on my face without falling off. I push the glasses up my nose and look back into the mirror.

I guess the function wasn’t the only thing I altered. My ability has a lot to do with intentions.

Instead of glasses, I’m wearing a black mask with turquoise lenses. The mask only covers the upper half of my face. But that’s not the only thing that’s changed. Instead of my hair being the usual dirty-blonde and down to my shoulders, it’s pink, shorter and sorta spiked up- at least that’s the best way to describe it. Not spiked, that’s too sharp. But I can’t find another word right now, so we’ll stick with it. It was a transformation I hadn’t anticipated, but one that I’m sure to keep. I grin, showing teeth sharper than normal.

“This is gonna be fun.”

I hear someone in the kitchen. My dad, getting ready for the day. It’s Saturday, so he doesn’t have work. We don’t have a foster kid at the moment, so mom will be sleeping in. And my sister is still asleep in her bedroom. Perfect.

I raise a hand, seeing the black claws that now extend from the ends of my gloves. I’d been wondering how I’d get to a knife, but I guess now I won’t need one. I tighten the straps of my backpack and step out of my bedroom.

“Heh. Time to raise hell.”

~

Six days later. Thirteen days since this all started.

It took me for-fucking-ever to find the mansion. Even longer to get there with the burden I’m dragging along. But here I am. It looms over me, giving off the same creepy vibe I got from my stalker. I know he’s there, and he knows I’m here. Someone will answer the door soon, I don’t even have to knock.

The smell of blood isn’t as bad as I thought. I’m glad I made my clothes stain-proof, I’d hate to have to throw away my gloves. As I’m waiting, I tap my foot idly and inspect my fingers. I have a nasty habit of biting the skin around my fingernails, which shows even with my claws. Oh, there’s blood on my claws. Not quite dry, so I just lick it off. Huh, doesn’t taste that bad either.

Someone’s moving inside. I straighten up slightly, hand dropping to my side. I nudge one of the bodies next to me with a foot, then take a half-step away when an arm flops to the ground. I look back to the door, arms crossed (carefully, to avoid cutting myself) as I wait. The door finally creaks open, revealing someone I don’t recognize. I assume it’s one of the proxies, but it’s not one that I’ve read anything about. Only one way to find out.

“You’re one of his proxies, I assume?” Even my voice is different, with the mask. I like it.

The proxy laughs. “Fuck yeah, I’m the number one proxy bitch. But you can call me Irre.” She pronounced it like ‘eerie’, which I thought was fitting.

I snort with amusement and take a moment to look the proxy up and down. She has pale blue skin, long hair that faded from black into red, and silver eyes. She’s about my height, maybe an inch shorter, with a healthier-looking build than the almost-too-skinny twig stature I see every time I look in the mirror. She even looks to be about my age too, give or take a year. She gives off a chaotic sort of presence, but in a way that’s almost difficult to perceive. I’m reminded of my school days, blending into the background. After a few people told me my stare was creepy, even though I’d just been looking at them, I didn’t meet anyone’s gaze. Apparently I had an intensity others found unsettling, but only if they noticed me. I’m reminded of that with this proxy, only with chaotic energy instead. I smile slightly. We might just get along.

“Well, nice to meet you, number one proxy bitch,” I respond with a chuckle. “Speaking of proxies. Where do I sign up? I brought a peace offering.” An idle hand gesture draws her attention to the bodies sprawled next to me. Two bodies, carved up with precise markings, and very much dead. What remains of my parents. My claws had marked them, turned their corpses into a work of art. I’d saved the blood, bagged it and put it in my backpack. I might need it later.

Irre looks the bodies over and grins. “I think you’ll fit in just fine here. Course, that’s not my decision.” She glances back at the house. “The others will get curious soon. Last chance to turn back.”

“I’m not going back. Besides, he sought me out first,” I admit. “Took me awhile to figure it out. But I’m here now.”

She nod in understanding. “In that case… what’s your name?”

I grin, showing sharp teeth. “I am Genesis Caveat.”