The Girl in the Attic | Creepypasta x Reader

Chapter 6

"Feisty," Masky tilted his head at you, narrowing his eyes from behind his mask, "need putting in your place, dollface?"

Dollface? The word made your face heat up, your eyebrows furrowing as you glared up at him. Although, you weren't sure if it was completely out of disgust, but that wasn't something you were about to address.

"Aren't you like, 30? Why are you trying to fight an 18 year old? Get a grip." You looked him up and down with a scoff. Toby let out a roar of laughter, pointing mockingly at Masky.

"Damn, she called you old!" Toby cackled, clearly getting a way bigger kick out of it than was necessary.

"...I'm 25." Masky seethed through gritted teeth, glaring down at you darkly.

"Halfway there. How was the meteor hit? Hot?" You questioned innocently, jerking your head to the side at him, earning another loud howl from Toby.

"Cut it out." Hoodie swivelled, casting you and Toby into silence as you both blankly stared back at the hoodied proxy. He paused for a second, then beckoned you over with a jerk of his head, "go sit."

Somehow, even though Hoodie said less and was a whole lot less aggressive than Masky, you found yourself listening to him before you even processed what he had said. Walking over to a brown, artistically squiggly couch, you sat down and finally took in your surroundings.

It was a big room, more long than it was wide, a huge crystal chandelier hanging from the ceiling that cast a startling white shine. The beginning of the room had two couches at either side, all in strange shapes and colours that somehow worked. The rugs beneath your feet weren't any more normal, colours of brown, sage, cream and orange reminiscent of the 70s abstract movement. The wooden planks the mansion were made out of had been coated over in plaster, smoothed out and painted a creamy colour. Each surface, which looked more like art pieces than furniture, were riddled with clothes, fabric samples, magazines and sewing equipment. After the seating area, the walls were lined with racks and racks of clothing, only breaking for the occasional curtain changing room, before continuing to the very end of the room. You leant forward, looking past the rack of clothes to see a large desk at the end of the room, also riddled with magazines and fabric, as well as a huge sewing machine bang in the middle of it. On the wall behind the desk was a huge display of different rolls of string, lace, ribbon, thread and needles, as well as various print outs and photographs of paparazzi and catwalk photos.

To summarise, it was the most visually overwhelming room you had ever been in. Nothing compared to the attic you were born into, and certainly not to the dingy cabin you had raised yourself in.

The sound of the music lowering and a door closing further down the room broke you from your trance, and only a moment later a freakishly tall, lanky figure strode from the back of the room. Whoever this was looked almost exactly like Slenderman, from the freakish height and long limbs to the lack of face. Except somewhere along the way Slenderman found a tanning bed, a pair of rectangular glasses, maroon dress loafers, black suit pants, a maroon and orange 70s button up, a dark brown sweater vest and a cream tie.

"Well, I wasn't expecting visitors! How did you troublemakers get in?" Slenderman greeted joyfully.

He had apparently also found a personality.

"The door." Hoodie replied in his usual, flat tone, then craned his head to where you were sitting.

Taking that as your cue, you stood up quickly and walked over somewhat hesitantly, spooked out by Slenderman's sudden transformation. As you approached, the tall creature reached out and grabbed your wrist, yanking you closer and examining what you were wearing.