Hi! So this chapter has been rewritten and edited. If you see any mistakes feel free to point them out. Also if you have any suggestions or constructive criticism (other than me updating because I know I need to) I'd love to hear it. So in this chapter the reader is still a baby, or, as I like to call them, a tiny child.
Trigger Warnings: Cursing, murder, and there's implied sexual stuff but nothing graphic.
Enjoy~
***
Slenderman:
A woman scoured the line of trees. She was searching for a supposed creature of legends. People in the small town neighboring the dark, sinister woods liked to talk. Beliefs of a tall, thin, child-devouring entity ran rampant throughout society. Adults were safe as long as they stayed far, far away from the woods. The children, on the other hand, were not safe.
The mother had been passing through town, looking for families to adopt her child. She wasn't having any luck thus far. When she heard of the legend, her heart skipped a few beats. She dragged her mentally sick self to the woods as quickly as she possibly could, leaving a trail of dust in her wake.
She stumbled through the scraggly brush until she found a clearing. The trees, branches thick with leaves, stepped away and let the moonlight beam down on the tall grass. Animals watched her from all around, sensing the betrayal from their perches. In the woman's arms laid a small, sniveling baby.
To your mother's surprise, you were not crying. Your weak form was barely breathing, so crying was out of the question. She looked at you once more before carefully placing you down in the thick green grass. You reached out for her without an ounce of strength backing your weak arms.
The (h/c) haired woman took one glance at you. She heaved a sigh and turned to leave, an apology slipping past her plump lips. Your mother swiped away fat tears as she walked back to the road.
Salty beads of liquid welled in your shimmery (e/c) eyes. They slipped down your ace and doused the scratchy blanket wrapped around you. The moon looked down on you with sympathetic eyes. The warm, calming gaze soothed your meek cries.
A dark figure emerged from the shadows and approached you. Despite being tall, the creature moved with elegance and barely made a sound. The person picked you up, holding you close to his chest. He looked down at you with a pale and featureless face. He was eerily calming.
"Hello, child," he said. "I'm going to take care of you now."
You forced your head up and stared into his face. A small smile graced your chapped lips. The tall man carried you through the woods. He made a mental note to order his proxies to look into your mother.
***
Jeff the Killer:
The pale man worked his way into your house. Your parents were out, so your older sister was supposed to be babysitting you. (S/n) only had two rules: no boys over without parental supervision and no staying out after nine on school nights, ten on weekends. But she had deliberately disobeyed the very first rule and invited over (B/n).
Jeff walked through the house and looked for people. He silently padded down the hall and carefully twisted every doorknob. All of the rooms he checked were empty. But there was one room left. The door was a pale shade of (f/c) covered in an array of (f/a) stickers.
The door was open just enough for Jeff to see inside. Two teenagers sat inside on the floor, practically gnawing each other's face off. A dark brown crib sat in the corner of the room. Babysitting was supposed to be happening, but instead, it was a make-out session.
(S/n) bit pulled away and bit her lip, giggling. Jeff scowled. There was only supposed to be one person here, not two. Slenderman had given him orders to kill (S/n), but now he would also have to get rid of (B/n). Jeff wasn't bothered by the extra work. If anything, he was excited about it.
"Can we please go to the other room?" your sister asked. "I don't want to do this in front of the baby."
"Okay, fine," (B/n) replied. He got up, dragging (S/n) with him. "The baby is okay, but I don't want to have to come in here and check on them every few minutes!"
"I guess you're right. We can continue here. Let's move up to the bed, though."
(B/n) smirked and pushed (S/n) onto the bed. She watched him intently, never moving her eyes away from him. Jeff stood in the doorway as they began undressing. His scowl deepened. Yes, he was a killer, but at least he had the decency not to fuck in front of a baby.
"I don't know," your sister said. She sat up and looked at your crib. "Something doesn't feel right."
You laid in your crib, not yet asleep, but pretending to be. Three pairs of eyes gazed at you, and you could sense a change in atmosphere. You groaned and flopped around. (B/n) rolled his eyes.
"Oh, forget about them!" (B/n) exclaimed. He pushed (S/n) back down onto the bed, a guttural growl leaving his throat. "There won't be a problem as long as you keep quiet."
"Get off of me," (S/n) screeched. She dug her nails into (B/n), desperately trying to get him off. "Get off!"
"Calm down," (B/n) said with a smirk. "You'll enjoy this."
Jeff growled and looked at you. From the positioning of your crib, he was able to see your tear-stained face. You meek (e/c) eyes glimmered with hot tears.
Jeff unsheathed his knife and took charge. He darted out from behind the door and towards the teens. (B/n) would be his first target, then (S/n) was next. The teens were nothing more than bloody, lifeless husks once Jeff had finished. He pulled out a crimson-stained cloth and wiped the blade clean.
"How could someone treat a child like that," he grumbled. "And how did she land herself with such a shitty boyfriend?"
You sniffled and looked at Jeff. The killer stared down at you. You hadn't made a single noise at the gore-filled scene before you. Your (e/c) eyes hungrily drank in the beautiful carmine spilled everywhere. Jeff thought for a moment: what if he took you? Slenderman might skin him alive. But the longing look in your eyes was enough to convince him in a heartbeat.
Jeff trodded around and snatched anything baby-related he could find. He stuffed it all in a sleek black bag. The man took you in his arms, swaddling you in a (f/c) blanket. The night was cold, so he held you very close on the trek back to the mansion.
***
Eyeless Jack:
Jack studied the scene laid out before him. An angry man was holding a crying baby. A feral growl ripped from the man's throat as he looked down at you, contempt shining in his dull eyes. He raised your frail body above his alcohol-driven head. It looked like he planned on hurling you at the ground, an action that would surely kill you.
Jack saw this action and leaped from the shadows. His scalpel was out and hungry for blood. Jack snuck behind the man and held the blade to his throat. Beads of blood licked at the edges of a shallow mark. The man grunted in surprise and struggled to get out of Jack's grip, surprisingly not breaking free despite the massive size difference.
"Put the child down," Jack commanded. He waited for the man to comply, but the action never took place. Jack snarled and forced the scalpel harder. "I said, set the child down."
Your father winced and carefully lowered you. Jack hissed and took you into his arms. He held you tightly, trying to silence your feverish whimpering. Jack turned his attention from you to the quivering male. The man, although big and bulky, was shaking in his boots.
"If you want me to let you live," Jack said with malice, "then I'd suggest you start running."
Your father nodded and took off. Mangled roots and blood-hungry proxies riddled his escape route. There would be great stories to hear later on that night, all detailing the gruesome demise of the vile man.
Jack slid his mask up a bit to reveal his sharp-toothed mouth. You looked at him with fear prominent in your delicate (e/c) eyes. Your body stung with cuts; some big and some tiny. He brushed his finger over your face gently, running over a few light scrapes. Blood crusted the cuts, lightly dusting your entire body.
"I'll have to fix you up back at home," he said softly. "I don't have my kit with me, or else I'd do it here. Just hold on a little bit longer."
Your eyes had long since closed, his raspy, gentle voice lulling you to sleep. Jack started walking back to the mansion. He carefully inspected his path to keep from waking you. The last thing he needed was a crying baby in the middle of killer-filled woods.
Your father was going to pay for what he had done to you. Jack had a feeling you had endured much worse than what happened that night. He was going to make sure that it never happened again.
***
BEN Drowned:
Ben was notably confused. That's all that needed to be said. You sat alone in a corner, being ignored by every person at the gathering. The adults gathered in the main room, drinking away their sorrows. Children ran around, yelling and screaming. They were too wrapped up in their drama to want to play with or take care of a baby. The two teens were joined at the hip, playing games and texting.
"What's going on here? Shi-," he muttered, barely catching himself. "No cursing . . . no cursing. But this is seriously messed up."
At a glance, you looked happy. But upon further inspection, tear streaks were evident. The blond man stepped closer to you, managing to not draw any attention to himself. All of the adults were too drunk to pass judgment, anyway. No one could prove he wasn't just another long-lost family member there for the party.
You looked up at the boy and fussed. A gaunt (s/c) arm stretched out towards him and latched onto the bottom of his shirt. The simple act made Ben feel compelled to take you.
A hollow screech disturbed the careless chatter. Ben looked around, being drawn by even more yelling. Fights broke out. Glass shards and wine flew everywhere. Ben scooped you up and retreated towards a shattered phone. He slipped inside the device without a second thought and popped into his room.
"You'd be better off with us anyways," he said to you.
He sat you down in his chair and stepped back, studying you. A few weak strands of (h/c) hair coated your head. He had to admit that you were adorable. But something about you looked weird. It was hard to pinpoint what it was.
Your limbs were wiry, your face slim and gaunt, and your ribs poked out from beneath your shirt. In short, it looked like you hadn't been fed in forever. Ben's eyes widened in shock. He turned to his computer and instantly started researching how to take care of you. Taking care of a baby was something he never thought he'd do. He moved you and sat down in the chair, gently holding you close.
"They won't get away with this," he mumbled. His crimson eyes flashed with anger. "I won't let them."
***
Masky:
The proxy had just gotten finished with his latest mission. He walked down the sidewalk on the main road, passing by many darkened buildings. Tim dug in the pockets of his light brown jacket. He huffed and stopped, searching for his pack of cigarettes.
"Where are they?" he grumbled. "I know I just had them!"
The brown-haired male frowned and kept walking, giving up. He cursed himself under his breath. Why did they have to be missing at this exact moment?
Tim shoved his hands in his pockets and stared at the ground as he walked. From the corner of his eye, he saw a woman. She reached out to him with a grimy arm. He stopped walking and looked at her. His gaze was enough to intimidate an angry bear.
"Can I help you?" he spat.
The woman came close to him and whispered something in his ear. He strained to listen, but her scratchy voice was too quiet. He frowned and looked down at her.
"What?"
"Take them," she said, her voice nothing above a whisper. "Please. I can't take care of them anymore."
Tim narrowed his hard brown eyes and gazed down at the tattered blanket she held. Wrapped up inside was a small baby. The child had a charming, charismatic aura that tempted him to say yes. Even so, Tim frowned and thought about this. He couldn't make this decision on a whim. He had to be sure.
"Fine. I'll take the child," he said with a sigh.
"Really?" she gasped.
Tim nodded and shot her a skeptic look. The woman wasted no time and hastily shoved the sniffling bundle into his arms. She hurried off in between two dark buildings.
He sighed and wiped his free hand on his pants. Your gentle (e/c) eyes had filled with terror. He smiled and shook his head, trying to match your charismatic aura. He continued back to the mansion, now taking a shortcut through the back roads.
"What have I gotten myself into?" he mumbled, the itch of his smoking addiction starting to erode his sense. "No. I have a child now."
He pondered in his mind about what to do. Smoking could seriously hurt the baby. But he couldn't just stop; it isn't that easy. The others in the mansion wouldn't allow this nasty habit to continue. The mere thought caused his blood to run cold. How far would they be willing to go to get him to stop?
"Let's just get you home," he breathed.
***
Hoodie:
The quiet proxy stalked back through the woods. His target had gotten away. Slenderman was most certainly going to have his hide for it.
"I had one job," he mumbled shakily. His hands trembled, and he tried his best to steady them. "And I fucked it up. I swear I can't do anything right!"
A battered man had escaped Slenderman's forest. A woman trespassing had gotten him busy. Where was Masky? His mission shouldn't have taken that long. He should've been back.
Hoodie took a deep breath in and stopped, trying to calm himself. A twig snapped beneath his feet. He lost it. On the inside, at least. On the outside, he appeared calm. No one would be able to see his quivering lip, hidden by his mask.
He leaned against a tree and slid down until he was seated. Silence gripped him with a firm hand, warning him of what would happen if he didn't come back. Slenderman might come looking, and that would make his anger grow tenfold.
He whimpered and took his mask off. Off to the side, a whimper echoed his own. This one was smaller and more high-pitched; it sounded like a small child.
Hoodie looked around but didn't see anyone. You lied a few feet away from him, concealed by browned leaves and grass. A weak wail came from your chapped lips, starling the male. He wasn't qualified to deal with this. Certainly not with the thoughts that ran through his mind.
Hoodie got up and scanned his surroundings. He took a deep breath, clearing his racing mind. Your form was hard to detect; it was all thanks to your greenish-brown blanket. Once he spotted you, he walked over and knelt.
Your eyes appeared to be tightly shut, and your mouth twisted into a fear-stricken grimace. Another wail echoed from your lips. Your pitiful appearance pulled at Hoodie's heartstrings. The man picked you up and held you close, trying desperately to ease your wails. If another Creepypasta found you, there would be trouble.
Your lip quivered, and in turn, he tightened his grip, but not so much that it hurt. He studied your features and began the trip home. It was going to be difficult for him to hide you from the rest of the group. But he would have to so he could avoid being in more trouble than he already would be.
"I'll take you home. You look like you need it just as much as me," Hoodie said. His voice was gentle and lulled your exhausted frame to sleep. "I just hope Slender goes easy on me . . ."
***
Bloody Painter:
Helen sighed and wiped his brow, smearing blood into his skin. He'd been working all day. He brought buckets of blood to a small shack behind his house. The carmine liquid then went into a machine to keep it fresh and ready-to-use.
"Finally," he said, setting down two red-stained buckets.
A small puff of air escaped his lips. The warm moonlight created a sparkling sea in his unmasked eyes. He closed the door to the shed and leaned against the creaky wood. A hooded figure passed by his house, and in their thin arms, they held a small bundle.
He lashed out and grabbed his mask. Who was this, and what were they doing? Helen stealthily crept up to his house. A woman with shaking hands set a heavily-bundled baby down on the back porch.
"I'm sorry," she murmured, trailing off at the end. "I wish I didn't have to do this."
The woman turned and walked off. Helen narrowed his eyes and thought about his situation. He didn't want a child; they were messy, loud, and it was troublesome to take care of them. He came out of the shadows and walked over to the infant.
"What am I going to do with you?" he asked quietly. "I don't want a child. You're just going to cost me."
You looked up at him with grave (e/c) eyes. A cold and threatening aura surrounded you; it intrigued him. Maybe he could bring you into his line of work. An apprentice would be delightful to have around.
"Well," he paused to think, "maybe you could provide to be useful."
Helen bent over and picked you up, awkwardly holding you close. You didn't whine, cry, kick, or spit. All of those things are what he would expect from a baby. Instead, you sat there, unamused and staring straight into his soul.
Helen took you inside and into his room, hesitantly settling you on his bed. He carefully got you situated. Everything started to overwhelm his senses. What had he just done? He sat down in a chair to wait for you to fall asleep. Within a few agonizing minutes, you were out cold.
"I need to take a minute," he mumbled under his breath. "I'll be back . . ."
Helen got up and walked out of the room, ignoring the creaky floorboards. He went into his studio and began working on another art piece. His inspiration was his immense emotion, resulting in a whirl of shapes and shades of red. The painting was intense and dangerous. He decided that this was going to be an unusual experience.
***
Laughing Jack:
Jack smirked and held his hand out. His target was a small, (h/c) haired child. In their arms was a baby curled up in a fuzzy (f/c) blanket. Who wouldn't jump at this chance? It was two victims for the mere work of one.
The naive child followed the tall, monochrome clown without a second thought. Your older sibling bit their lip and then took his hand. Jack noted the slight hesitation in the back of his mind. Once out of sight, he dropped his animated smile and turned it into a scowl. He led you both into the woods until no one could see you guys from the festival grounds.
Jack stopped walking and bent down to (S/n)'s level. He offered a sweet pink candy. The candy would numb the child's pain, but only a little bit.
"Take it," Jack said. He grinned a maniacal grin. "Give me the baby. I'll take care of them."
"This is (Y/n). She/he is my baby sister/brother. You won't hurt them, will you?" (S/n) asked, looking down at you.
The young child appeared to see right through Jack. They gave him a long, depressed look. Jack took you from their arms and set you down on a small, fluffy patch of grass. Your sibling took the unwrapped candy and popped it into their mouth.
"Take care of her/him," the child whimpered. "That's all I ask. Okay?"
"Why do you say such things?" Jack asked with a look of pure curiosity.
"Because this isn't the first time something like this has happened," they choked, crumpling to the ground.
Jack set you down in the grass beside him. He positioned his talons around the (h/c) haired child's stomach, plunging his hand into the tender flesh. Blood began spilling from the wound. Jack ripped his hand back, and gore and organs spilled out. He decided to be merciful on the child and ended them as soon as he could.
The child hadn't screamed out but instead whimpered and cried. Somehow, their meek whimpers were even more enthralling than the regular screeching. Jack looked down at you. Your eyes gazed upon the limp body of your sibling. The (e/c) pools were dull and unmoved.
Jack cleaned the mess up and properly disposed of your sibling. He frowned. That child deserved so much better. They put you before themself, even on their deathbed. He thought for a moment. What harm would it cause to honor the request?
He walked over to you and cradled you in his cold arms. Your (e/c) eyes stared into his knowingly. This task was going to be a difficult one, indeed.
"I won't let anything happen to you," Jack cooed. "And you're never going to leave me, okay? I won't let you."
***
Homicidal Liu:
Sully nagged at Liu, always lingering in the back of his mind. Sometimes Sully would get bold and burst to the front, taking control and scaring everyone around. Liu had a difficult time remembering what happened when Sully fronted. Liu huffed and shoved his hands into his pockets, silently telling Sully to shut up.
It had just rained. The pavement was damp, and steam rose from the ground. The dark path narrowed until it broke into a dirt one that led through the forest. The dense smell of trees wafted through the air, mixing with the crisp scent of rain. Liu stepped onto the muddy path with a sigh.
Before he could go any farther, he was stopped by a sharp tug on his sweater. Liu teetered backward and came face-to-face with hard black eyes. Sully cursed and almost burst out then and there.
"What do you want?" he asked weakly.
"Take them," the man demanded, shoving a baby into Liu's arms. "We can't take care of her/him anymore. I can't protect her/him for much longer."
Liu looked down at the bundle in his arms and sighed. He turned around and kept walking, ignoring Sully's irritated thoughts. But one of Sully's observations caught Liu's attention.
"Say that again," Liu demanded.
"Say what again?" Sully asked.
"I don't know! Whatever it was that you just told me."
"Do you not see the marks on them?"
Liu looked down at you once more, fully observing you. Dark purple bruises covered your arms and legs. Liu frowned and loosened his grip, afraid of accidentally hurting you. He sighed and picked up his pace. The sooner he could get you back to the mansion, the better.
"I'm going to take you somewhere safe," Liu said. "We won't let anyone do this to you ever again."
***
Jason the Toymaker:
Jason was walking around the dimly lit town when he encountered you. Warm, salty tears rolled down your (s/c) face. A deep frown donned Jason's face as he bent down to look at you. Your lip quivered as a strangled whine left your throat.
"Now, now," he said, wagging a finger in the air, "don't cry!"
He reached into a pocket and pulled out a miniature stuffed (f/a). Your demeanor almost instantly changed. You went from a sad, hurt puppy to a giggly bundle of joy. A devious smirk edged its way onto Jason's face.
"You, my friend," he said, picking you up, "could help me."
Jason held you, treating you like the most delicate glass rose in existence. He began towards his house. Every-so-often his gold eyes would make contact with your tired (e/c) ones. His eyes drew you in. They were the same as the eyes on your stuffed animal.
Jason thought about what this would mean. Raising a child would be extremely difficult. But a child would let him have all of the attention he wanted.
His smile dropped. They would provide all the attention he'd need, that is until they had to go to school. He glared down at your now-peaceful body. You would leave him just like all of the others unless he could work out a way to keep you home with him.
"I should just turn you into one of my little dollies right now," he muttered sadistically. "That way, you'll never even get to think of leaving me!"
But as Jason looked down into your eyes once more, he realized that he couldn't. You weren't like the rest. You wouldn't leave him. And even if you did, he would make sure you regretted it.
"I'm sorry, dearie," he said. "I shouldn't entertain those thoughts. You won't leave me, right?"
Even though you didn't understand his words, you nodded. You cocked your head to the side and stared up at him. His eyes got lost in yours for the slightest moment, but it was long enough for him to gain confidence in you.
"It'll be okay," he mumbled. "It'll all be okay."
***
Well I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter. Thank you for reading. I hope y'all are having a good day/night/whenever you see this.
Ttfn~