~Creepypasta x Reader (One shots)~ Completed

Ticci Toby

Suddenly, the scream resounded again, piercing your eardrums to have you practically jump out of your skin as if a jolt of electricity struck you. Your eyes immediately snapped to the source, your breathing shallow as your feet remained rooted to the spot despite your body's desperate pleas for you to run.

A female dressed in a scanty white baby-doll dress stumbled across the sea of bodies, honey blonde hair streaming behind her. Tears stained her tanned cheeks, her petrified glass green eyes wild as she desperately ran from an unknown threat, her gown marred with bloody prints from running through the dead.

Her eyes found yours and recognition zapped through you like lightning.

She was the girl who had initiated you as the school target, who would leave you feeling so low you wished you could have disappeared into the woodwork, who would constantly belittle you for every move you made.

She was the cause of all those years of agony, she was the one who showed you no mercy even when you begged for it, who constantly concocted new ways to make your life more of a living hell than it already was.

And she was staring at you know with beseeching eyes, in dire need.

"Please help me!" she yelled, her voice shrill with fear as she reached out her hands distraughtly –only a dozen feet separating both of you. "He's right behind me, fuck. Please you've got to help me!"

Your expression remained blank as you absorbed her words, your mind oddly detached and cold as you observed her panicked form. A part of you wanted to condemn her to her death and leave her to fry, a vicious and callous voice that was fuelled by the thirst for retribution.

After all, karma is a bitch.

But you glanced at her face and you recognized that expression of fright, of unholy fear. The victim in you bled, composing a greater part of you than you preferred as it empathised with the vulnerability she so freely radiated.

Karma wouldn't make things right.

Determination set inside you and you started forwards, stretching out a hand for her to grab so you could pull her to the doors.

"Grab my hand and we'll get out of here," you ordered in a somehow even voice despite the turbulent emotions beating at you, sombre when you caught the hope spark in her eyes.

The hope to survive. To live.

Her hand shot forwards as she closed in, her fingertips barely brushing yours when –

*Squelch*

Time froze as the undeniable sound of metal impaling bone, resounded in the silence. You watched in horror, as the scene rolled on in slow motion: the light snuffed out behind her green eyes, blood spilling from her mouth like paint as she crumpled forwards with no heed to the bodies she collapsed in. She lay among the corpses, the gruesome sight of a hatchet lodged into her spine now visible as unadulterated terror swept through you in vicious cold.

*Tic, tic, tic.*

Slowly, your eyes drew up from your butchered classmate to the sound that cut through the grim hush, limbs trembling as your body numbed.

Oh shit.

Before you was a man. Even from the reasonable distance, he stood taller than you. His body leering over you with shattered grace, the ripple of muscle holding a lethal grace before it shuddered spasmodically and his neck cricked with an audible *tick*. He wore grey long-sleeved shirt, the sleeves striped in darker variations of the color over his lean torso. Dark pants cloaked his legs, a brown utility belt slung around his hips where one bloody hatchet hung, its sibling embedded in the dead female you had attempted to help. His hands were gloved, his mouth disguised in a smiling dark bandanna covering the lower half of his face. Orange goggles protected his eyes from sight, dotted with drops of blood. His hair was shaggy and unkempt in a dark brown the hue of mahogany.

But what truly disturbed you was the aura of unstable energy buzzing around him like a swarm of wasps.

You weren't going to get stung.

You whipped around, sprinting towards the open door with manic panic snapping at your heels. The heavy sounds of pursuit sounded behind you like sirens, far too close for your liking. He was hot on your tail.

You skidded into the hall, nearly crashing into the lockers in your haste before the echoing clang of metal against metal burst inches away from you. A hatchet was lodged in the lockers.

He's fucking insane!

Stunned but not beaten, you propelled yourself forwards. Your lungs burning with exertion, heart heaving with pounding blood, head dizzy with adrenaline as you caught the blissful sight of the entrance doors.

Then a heavy force slammed into you and brought you crashing to the ground. Your head thwacked against the hard tiles, your vision spitting in two as your body sprawled in a useless heap of limbs beneath your attacker. You could feel his heartbeat race in his chest, a curiously gentle hand cupping your face.

"Why are you running from me?" he asked, his voice oddly meek and soft to your buzzing ears as pain flooded through your body.

This guy weighs a ton.

You blinked to clear the pain-induced tears from your eyes, feeling the strangely tender sensation of someone stroking your hair. He was hovering above you, body pressing against yours in an awkwardly intimate way that placed pressure on your aching muscles. Every now and again his body spasmed and ticked, the sudden movements sending darts of pain through your aching muscles.

"You shouldn't run from me," he whispered quietly, staring at you as if you were some sort of priceless artifact in a disturbing manner that severely creeped you out.

Oh yeah sure, I'm not gonna run from the psychopathic twitching maniac that just turned the gym into the butchery. That would be stupid.

But you remained mute despite your sarcastic thoughts as your lungs filled with oxygen, your vision becoming clearer with each passing moment. You attempted to gather up strength, just enough to somehow shove him off you so you could make a break for the door. There was no way in hell you were staying near him, not when his strange behavior had ominous shivers slide down your spine.

"I-I t-took *tic* care off t-them *tic* all. Even y-your m-mom *tic* FUCK I HATE MY TOURETTES!" he roared so violently, your ears popped. His sudden swing from soft and hyper to uncontrolled rage so swift, it had you practically jumping out of your skin, your body freezing in realization that you had indirectly caused all those meaningless deaths. Guilt swarmed you like insects, stinging your skin as your insides grew jagged.

Then his words clicked, he mentioned your mother.

"What did you do to her?" you voiced throatily, heart already speeding as if it knew the answer. Even as your mind balked at the thought, vehemently denying any such notion as you glared at him expectantly for his response.

He only stared at you, before removing his goggles and the bandanna from his face and you cringed. His cheek was severely burned, skin charred, blackened and mottled where it showed glimpses of his teeth. The rest of his skin was pale, taut over handsomely carved features that were alluring bar the gruesome scar. But all you could see was the sick mix of glee and lust searing in his hazel irises, black demons writhing beneath the surface.

He leaned forwards, his lips ghosting over your cheek to make you shiver.

"I-I k-killed her," he answered cheerily, so plainly so casually it floored you as your mind, heart and soul shrieked in grief, the fight in you dying a swift death as the electricity struck you like lightning, benumbing you completely as your mind battled to process the information.

"I-it *tic* w-was fun *tic She t-tried *tic* t-to run b-but *tic I c-caught her," he elaborated as if it were some pleasant memory, words warm against your cold skin as his lips moved to brush over your cheeks, nose, forehead, and jaw, tasting samples of your flesh as you shivered unwillingly in revulsion and begrudging pleasure.

He paused over your mouth, offering you a sincere smile if only you didn't see the malice, the possessiveness beneath it.

"N-now *tic* you c-can stay *tic* with m-me! Won't that be *tic* great (Y-Y/N)?" he chirped happily, ignorant of your mute response as you cocooned yourself in your own grief, your own sorrow. You were burying yourself beneath layers of your own pain and disbelief, freezing your senses as you drifted further and further away from this horrible scene, from this terrifying truth.

His gaze blackened, the demon in him showing its true colors as he grabbed a handful of your hair to tilt your face up to his. He did find your silence rather annoying. He had been annoyed and shunned most of his life, even at Slender mansion where that jerk Masky continually belittled him. He did not enjoy the idea of you ignoring him too, though his mind drifted to other thoughts as his hands drifted over the curve of your hips, gaining a shudder he took as a good sign.

"You'll never *tic* leave me, will you?"

He never wait for an answer but crushed his mouth to yours, exploiting your state of shock to explore the taste of you, a sharp strident flavour that drove his mad with its intoxicating nature. His hands shaped you, skimming beneath your shirt to bruise your skin but you were numb to it all, far beyond his reach.

Knowing there was no escape.

Almost mockingly, above the hall, the school bell rang for the last time on the chilling scene.