Jeff the Killer:
It was a beautiful night. A full moon and a clear sky full of stars. You stared out your bedroom window at the night sky, your mind wandering. Your room was darker then it was outside, you didn't feel like turning the lights on. You didn't feel like doing anything. Nothing interested or appealed to you. That is, until you glanced down at your car. An idea. Your car- it was right there, waiting for you. It was practically beckoning you forward. Come on in, here's your way out. Here's an escape from everything.
Doubts didn't even occur to you as you slid on a pair of shoes. Where he was, what he was doing, what he was thinking, how he'd feel, none of that crossed your mind.
So you certainly didn't even think of how he may have planned.
Adrenaline finally kicked in as you left your bedroom and speed walked through your home, grabbing a few key items as quickly as possible. Your keys jangled terribly loudly as you briskly walked towards your car, every shadow and every noise making your hairs stand on end. But you couldn't let things get to you like that, you had to be brave, you had to be strong. Even if it was hard. Even if it hurt.
There were a few things you didn't notice. First off, in the dark you failed to notice your slashed tires, you had hopped into the car as quickly as possible. You turned the key, turned on your headlights, looked up, and noticed the second thing. You hadn't seen Jeff standing there waiting for you.
"Fuck, fuck, shit." Your heart practically stopped at the sight of his familiar long legs and white hoodie. But you didn't stop moving, no, you put the car into reverse and stepped on it. Only for the vehicle to whine before slowly backing up. You could tell just from the feeling of the car that your tires were flat, horribly flat, you weren't going anywhere anytime soon.
And as Jeff slowly walked forward and approached your car door, you realized at the very last second your final mistake.
You had forgotten to lock the doors.
Ben Drowned:
Paranoia. It's a terrible fate to bestow upon someone. You were doubting your memory like it was a child's imagination, you had been high after all. It was probably a misunderstanding, or a joke. You were high, most likely didn't even happen. Besides, this is Ben we're talking about. Your Ben. He was a nerd, a cute silly nerd who wouldn't hurt a fly. Who do you think you are, being suspicious of him like this?
But you remembered, you remembered him saying it. You knew it for sure, he said he killed people. And who says he's incapable of it? You didn't even know what he was, he wasn't human that's for sure. He had no eyes, he cried blood, he crawled out of televisions, how the hell do you know what he does in his spare time? How the hell do you know?
You couldn't take it anymore. You reached for your cellphone and hesitated only for a moment before dialing 911. Pressing the phone to your ear as tears filled your eyes, you barely noted the odd amount of time it was taking for them to answer the phone before someone answered. "911, what is your emergency?" A kind, comforting woman answered.
"I-I don't know- someone I know, he said he-he kills people and- and-" Your voice hitched.
"Is this person with you right now?" She asked.
"I don't know!" You cried, eyes darting around your room. "I-I don't know . . . maybe? But I don't think so . . . I don't think so, no."
"Are you sure about that, Y/N?"
"I-I don't know, I don't know, I'm not sure, I'm-I'm . . . I'm . . ."
Wait.
What did she just say?
"How . . . how do you know my name?" You whispered.
The woman giggled. It shook you to your fucking core. Ice traveled down your spine as her laughter grew in volume but changed, became deeper and began to glitch, becoming horribly familiar. A scream left your lips when your phone shocked you, making you drop it. All went quiet once again, except for your heavy breathing and whimpers, and the familiar sound of the television turning on behind you.
Eyeless Jack:
It was time to wipe your tears. You sniffled and sat up, listening closely for a moment. The house was completely silent. You hated it. Even though you were scared, very scared, you couldn't sit here any longer. There was a monster downstairs, you had to do something. But thinking about that hurt you horribly, he wasn't a monster, he was your Jack . . . then why did he look like that? There was no questioning it, he was a monster. You just had to figure out if he was a dangerous one. But you preferred to do that from a distance.
You worked quietly as possible. Silently, you filled a small bag and grabbed a pair of shoes. You wouldn't put them on yet, he was still downstairs. If you were gonna sneak out you had to do so in your socks. If only your dumbass could figure out how to open your window, then you'd be done here. Instead, you had to walk out right under his nose.
You took a deep breath before gripping the doorknob. It took all your inner strength to open the door. Seeing the empty hallway and no sharp toothed monster waiting to eat you made you nearly breathe out in relief, but you couldn't quite yet. One step at a time, Y/N. You took a step forward. Then another. Then another. You reached the staircase, where you once again hesitated before peeking around the corner. From what little you could see of the lower level, the coast was clear.
One step at a time now. One step. Another. And another. But as your vision lowered to the dining room, you froze as your eyes finally landed on him. How could you miss him, his blue mask stood out in the room. And it was staring right at you. What the fuck were you thinking, what had you even been planning? Of course he'd still be here waiting for you. What, did you think he was just doing to leave? Or he was gonna fall asleep on the couch, la dee da?
As he stood up tall and approached you, a sudden wave of love for him from the familiarity of his height combined with your self doubts and hatred made your eyes fill with tears. Perhaps you deserved whatever was about to happen to you.
Masky:
You can't do this. You can't do this. You can't do this. Hearing his heavy footsteps walking around the kitchen was driving you insane. You were scared, unbelievably scared. Fear made your stomach ache, it felt like it was eating away at your insides. You couldn't take it anymore, fuck it. If this ended up being a joke, then so what? It was a joke, and it was his fault for upsetting you. But if not . . . you had to leave. Now.
But it wasn't that simple. He was right in the other room, he'd definitely hear you get up and open and close the door. Perhaps you could outrun him? You didn't have a car, and running away to either call the police or at least have some space to figure out what the hell was going on was your best bet. But the instant you stood up, you had to be quick. Here we go . . .
You stood up, and instantly made your way over to the door. Gripping the knob weakly, you flung open the door and heard Tim call your name just before slamming it behind you. Good, now run. You took off down the driveway and then the street, too scared to turn around. You definitely weren't an athlete, pretty soon you were running out of breath and your chest had a knot in it. But you kept going, even when you slowed to a jog, and then a walk, you kept going. Finally, finally, after what seemed like forever you paused to catch your breath.
You were a good distance away from your house by now, it was starting to get dark but you weren't too concerned. You had your phone, and it's not like Tim had followed you. Which was actually surprising considering-
Wait.
You hear footsteps. No, someone's running. You whip around just as a heavy force tackles you onto the ground, making you fall unconscious once your head hits the pavement.
Hoodie:
Deep breath in. Deep breath out. Everything is fine. Just breathe.
But everything isn't fine! Your boyfriend just said he's a murderer, and he was mean to you and snapped at you. Brian was never mean to you, so what did you do wrong? This one question bounced around your mind and almost made you dizzy. He said he'd be back soon, and you wanted to see him but . . . at the same time you didn't. You missed him, but you were scared. You wanted answers, but didn't.
You needed to breathe, you needed some fresh air. A walk should help, just a quick walk to calm you down. With a sigh, you walked over to the front door and pulled on your coat before opening it.
And then you stopped in your tracks.
Brian was leaning against the wall outside. He turned to you silently, just one look and you were shaking. Because you knew you shouldn't have opened that door.
Homicidal Liu/Sully:
A shiver went up your spine as your breath appeared before you in the cold. Not the best weather, but it would have to do. You felt like taking a walk outside to stretch your legs, plus it was a pretty snow day. You definitely didn't mind seeing the blanket of ice covering your neighborhood. Liu was sleeping on the couch, you felt kind of bad leaving him but you had covered him in a thick blanket so hopefully he wouldn't be too mad. Chuckling, you shook your head at this thought. Liu was never mad with you.
Ironically, this was the last thought you had before everything descended to chaos.
"Y/N!" You gasped and turned around. Was that Liu calling you? Yes it was, you could see him up ahead. You quickly approached, worried something had happened. But the closer you got, the more you saw his enraged expression. He walked towards you faster as you slowed down. Why was he so angry? And why was it scaring the hell out of you?
The Bloody Painter:
Helen got up and went to the restroom, leaving you with your thoughts. Alone. You could only think of one thing, and that was how much you wanted to get the hell out of there. So you did. Without hesitation, you got up out of your seat and left your own apartment, slowly walking down the halls and dragging your feet.
You were exhausted and definitely not in the mood for this. You didn't even know what to think, how to feel, what to say. Just . . . you were just tired. So tired. So when you heard footsteps stomping from behind you at a fast pace, you didn't run even though you knew who it was. You didn't glare back when he glowered down at you angrily. And you didn't struggle as he grabbed your arm and dragged you back to your apartment.
Hobo Heart:
Why was life so hard? Why did life have to be so fucking confusing? You growled and gripped the steering wheel tighter, getting yourself worked up. No, you weren't running away out of fear. You were just going for a drive to clear your head and calm yourself. Well, it didn't end up working, so now you were just speeding along a dark road next to a gloomy forest, wondering why the hell you were even here.
BANG.
You screamed and slammed on the brakes, making yourself jerk forward. What the fuck was that? Did you hit a deer? Oh my god, you better not have hit anything. You swung open your car door and got out to look below your vehicle, but something in the corner of your eye made you glance upwards. And gape.
What.
The fuck.
Hobo Heart was standing on top of your car, staring down at you with murder written across his face. The loud noise, had that been him? But how- how the fuck did he get up there? He jumped down and you watched his wings, staring at them. There was no way, no way . . . humans don't have wings, so then . . . what the hell was he?