Creepypasta Oneshots (On hold)

New Years one shot

I lick the blood off my fingers as I let the limp figure fall, watching it crumple into the snow. She was really starting to irritate me. I can't see how they do it; Jeff, Jack, Toby, and the Other Jack. From what I can see, they love their new found relationships. Admitting it's way better than hunting, our safe word for murdering people. 

I smirk as I look at the delicate face of my fling. She ended up being like the rest, a lust filled fan that discovered my identity. Why can't there be someone that likes me and is sane? Not someone who will wake me up in the middle of the night so I can show her how to kill people. Or someone that will drag some elderly lady into my house asking me to kill her while she watches.

All of the girls who I would like to have a relationship with only end up wanting some sexually revolting kind of thing with me. I would prefer to be single. Enough with the endless girls who have disappointed me in more ways than one.

So here I am walking down the streets, watching as everything speaks of the New Year. Oh how great and wonderful it is. I bitterly pass by an electronic store. The tv's all turn on, zeroing in on the New Year's Eve party. Couples embrace as a popular band sings an upbeat love song. I stare longingly at the screen as it zeroes in on one couple, smiling happily at each other; a look of pure bliss on each others face. I've given up on romance as you can see, it's not my...thing.

I sigh as I continue down the street, making my way towards the woods. Not even caring about the blood that is seeping into my jeans, I make my way up the hill; walking into the forest. The same one where Toby allegedly met his girlfriend. As if it was that easy. I pull the beanie firmly onto my head, my black wavy hair getting manipulated by the wind slapping against my face.

With a sigh I trudge over towards the mansion that is home and to the people I call my family, the various killers and murderers everyone hears about in the legends. We all live together in one house. Slenderman, being the oldest and wisest, is the one in charge. He is like a father to us. My feet sink down in the snow as I reach the big heavy wooden doors, opening them. Warm air immediately surrounds me. My eyes meet with Helen as he walks down the stairs, his sketchbook tucked under his arm and a pencil behind his ear.

I gently close the door, nodding towards him and peeling off the heavy sweater before placing it on the coat rack. I feel mentally exhausted; built up stress and anguish filling my mind and tears threatening to spill. I sprint up the stairs, my heavy footsteps echoing as I run up the staircase. My eyes dart around to the multiple doors leading to the rooms. I find my old room, right next to Ben's. Yanking open the door, I feel my face already flushing a bright pink. I go inside and close the door to the dark room.

I take one step before gripping the sides of my head, shaking from the deep emotions that have grown for a long while. Slips of gold appear around me illuminating my childhood room. Trying hard not to break down at home, I flip on the lights and run to my bed; throwing myself into the hammock and letting my body swing side to side. I slam my hand on the radio, pressing a button and letting my favorite Screamo songs drown out my yells and screams. I bury my face deep into the covers and think of how happy all my friends are, while I am here, lonelier than ever. I let out more screams, frustrated with not being able to be as happy as they are. Ever since Catalina, it has been this never ending cycle of insane women. She was so sweet. U-Until one day...

I shook my head, not wanting to think about it. I angrily wipe away the tears and snot that roll down my cheeks, ignoring the empty feeling left in my chest. I shut off the music once again and instead focus on the soft covers surrounding me in a cocoon. The door burst open so suddenly that I jumped up from the hammock, twisting around and falling onto the hardwood floor.

"BEN! Pupp's here," Sally screams in delight, a smile on her young face as she moves her brown wavy hair out of her green eyes. That's what she used to call me, Catalina, especially when she was teasing me. Shaking my head, I try to focus now on untangling my legs from the hammock and covers and I let out a breath, my own thoughts of her becoming unbearably loud.