Made in Shadows (Creepypasta fanfic)

Chapter 1

Before we start this story I want to put a bit of a warning. This book contains sexual and physical abuse. Fighting, blood, some self-harm, drug and alcohol use, and ofc a little bit of sexual content (or lemon? Whatever it's called)

"No no no, not now!" I flick the lighter again and again rushed by the sirens. The neighbors must have seen me.

"Midnight joggers, neighbors, a survivor, an FBI pigeon, anything!" Grady drilled into my head with that godawful fatherly voice that made my back snap straight. He reminds me of our father too much. If it weren't for me, he'd actually be him.

My phone vibrates in the pocket of my black hoodie, making a terrible and irritating noise against the pocket knife in front of it, but I keep trying.

Flicking the black hair that fell out around the mask away from my eyes, I see the blue and red lights on the treetops. The voice in the back of my head tells me to run. "Fuck!" I grab the painted black can and run into the patch of trees across the street answering my phone.

"Yo! They're coming!" Grady shouts into the phone.
"No shit Sherlock, be home soon." I dive face first into a bush as the cop cars screech to a stop in front of the house, avoiding my fate narrowly. I hang up the phone cutting off Gradys yelling at me about how stupid I am, snapping up the mask that landed caught in the bushes and shoving it back on.

Normally we go on these "adventures" together, along with Adam. I clean up their mess with my gas can and trusty old lighter...which has failed me tonight. I told them I wanted to do this alone.

No one was in the house tonight but I should have thought of the neighbors like the whisper also drills into my head. I just wanted to scare him. The three of us always watch the house burn from across the street but I'm alone tonight and there's no fire.

~

I walk into the house pissed an hour later and throw off the black mask from party city. Adam and Grady sit on the brown couch to the left of me with a bag of Cheetos and a bong on the coffee table.

Criminal minds on mute ontop of a shelf with too much trash we'll need to clean tonight and the police scanner blaring next to the jar of green, partly illegal, substance. When you kill people, other crimes seem much easier.

I plop down between them grabbing a huge piece of bud out of our mason jar and smoke it. "What happened?" Grady asks once he knows I'm semi calm from smoking, his words a little slurred and I notice the Jack Daniels between his leg and the couch arm. A normal night when we do these things.

He's trying to calm himself from the panic attack he was having about me storming off alone. Screamed in the background of my phonecall with Adam on the way there out of frustration and the panic that I might be caught. They still treat me like a child.

"Old Betsy finally gave out," I say flicking the lighter a few more times, the rough metal no longer hurting my thumb after the years of playing with it. "Neighbors must have seen me." He grunts a little turning off the scanner, unmuting the TV, and flipping to the news.

We wait a few stories all sitting on the edge of the worn couch waiting for the "Urgent news" flashing across the screen.

"The man the people call Shadow on online forums, famous for silently sneaking into homes and killing with no warning was not so silent tonight. A man was asleep in his house when he heard noises in his backyard. He called 911 and when they arrived gas was found poured around and on his house. A stuffed doll was found on his front porch. With past evidence from crime scenes, we assume these are the same marks as the serial killer. You guys have any thoughts?" The mans voice blurs in my head as he asks his panel. I try to be as calm as I can.