~Creepypasta x Reader (One shots)~ Completed

Ticci Toby

A/n: Okay so this one shot was also requested by Coffee, hope you like it. The one shots requested will be posted in the following order to avoid confusion: Bloody Painter, Puppeteer and Homicidal Liu. Updates may be every 5 days from now on, unless inspiration hits me. So, enjoy!

THE FOLLOWING WILL CONTAIN EXTREME VIOLENCE AND TRIGGERS.


You blink lethargically, the lingering draughts of sleep escaping as you break the cold waking world. Your body feels stiff and achy, every movement sending dull pain singing up your spine. Your head felt as if it were filled with cotton, leaving you woozy and disoriented. Perplexed, you frown and attempt to shake the cobwebs from your memory as you gingerly sit up to absorb your surroundings...

A sea of polished tile swept before you, cold seeping into your bones to make them creak. Rows and rows of crimson lockers flanked the expansive hallway you were sprawled in, luminescent in the misty blue glow of moonlight spilling in through white-paned windows. High above, mounted on the peach wall was a rusty bell.

In the blink of an eye the scene dissolved around you, the moonlight exchanged for blaring daylight, the vacant hall primed and packed with students.

Thirteen-year old (Y/N) marched through the halls with her head ducked down, attempting to be as inconspicuous as possible among the sea of students. Your clothes were torn and worn, simple jeans, sneakers and a sweater that was two sizes too big for you but that was all you could afford. Besides, they were just material items and it never really bothered you, but it gifted others with ammunition to wield against you.

So you kept to the shadows, praying you wouldn't attract attention. Praying that they would find some other target and leave you alone for just once in their shallow, vapid lives.

But, of course, they never did.

Morphing faces, constantly changing, surrounded you in a ring like a pack of rabid wolves, cutting off any escape route that you could utilize to your advantage. Your books smacked to the ground as papers flew and scattered the floor like ants, trodden on by passerbys who ignored the commotion or added fuel to the fire. Your body shrunk in itself, attempting to shield you from harm as you slammed back into the lockers, pain singing up your spine.

"Bitch."
"Slut."
"Whore."
"Wimp."
"Loser."
"Fugly."
"Kill yourself already."

The words sank into your flesh like blades, skewering flesh from bone in a festering wound that almost hurt more than the physical blows that followed.

Almost.

Numerous days, you were chased home with forming bruises and bleeding cuts. So many days, you yearned for your mother to notice, to hold you, to ask you what was wrong, to be there. You just wanted some form of stability, for somebody to show you they cared enough. You wanted the person who was supposed to love and cherish you to help you through this torment.

But she never did.

You shook your head, dispelling the unnerving thoughts and wondered what in the world were you doing back in the former hell you had called high school. This was the place you vowed to avoid from the moment you graduated, the memories too harsh and horrid to relive. So for you to end up here of all places seemed a bit of a stretch at best.
Then the fluttering banner in the distance caught your eye, its cheerful font so eye-achingly bright you wondered how you could have possibly overlooked it.

'HAPPY TWO YEAR REUNION, CLASS OF 2013!'

It clicked; this was the night of the reunion you had point blankly refused to attend. An event created for those who wished to revel in the warm recollections of their younger years and see just where they had come from there. In all honesty, it was point blank idiotic to you and there was no need for you to show up and watch your former bullies bask in the glow of their high school glory days. It repulsed you. Not even (F/N) could convince you otherwise.

Then again, she was never targeted like you were.

Tired of sitting around, you rose to your feet tentatively –still perplexed at the ache in your body –and began to make your way down the passage towards the gymnasium where the reunion would be held. Your bones felt creaky and tender, your muscles like jelly as you stumbled your way through the halls hoping for some sort of explanation.
Was this all a prank?

If it was, then there would be hell to pay. You weren't the weak pushover you used to be, allowing yourself to be humiliated continuously at the hands at a bunch of insecure brats that had nothing better to do but take out their frustration on others. You had a mouth like a gun and bullets ready to be shot towards anyone who attempted to snipe at you.

However, strangely enough, there was nobody around to bother you yet. Glittery signs and streamers in school colours became apparent as you passed, merry yet oddly solemn. The passages remained silent, your footsteps reverberating through the atmosphere as you continued your search.

Shouldn't you be hearing music by now? The chatter of conversation? Babbles of laughter?

Yes, it sounded cliché but this was a reunion so naturally it was considered a party of sorts and that goes hand in hand with certain types of sounds depicting socialisation. You recalled from your school dance that the swell of music could be heard from the library on the other end of the school, where you had hidden amongst the books to stay away from your horrid bullies. So, it logical enough to assume that you would have heard something by now.

But no, only the pad of your footsteps and the heavy thud of your heart echoed in the smothering silence that was too still to be true –the calm before the storm. Dread coiled in your stomach like a reptile, slinking through your insides as you approached the gym doors where the party would be held before you hesitated.

Something was wrong.

Maybe it was your paranoia getting the better of you but every instinct was screaming at you to get the hell out of here asap. Your instincts never let you down before so why would they fail you now?

You paused, half in the action of turning back the way you came before a bloodcurdling scream cleaved through the silence like a butcher knife to meat. You body reacted without your consent, surging forwards to fling open the doors with a bang in a rush of adrenaline and basic human compassion.

Until blood froze in your veins, your heart stopping dead in your chest.

Jesus Christ.

Bodies, bloody and chopped like vegetables littered the formerly pristine floor of the gymnasium –dismembered legs, stumps of arms, hacked carcasses of torsos all strewn before you in some display of demented artwork. Blood poured from gaping gashes and stumps of limbs, staining the floor crimson beneath them in pools of liquid that shimmered beneath the glow of lights. Eyes stared out glassily, unseeing, expressions of the purest horror imprinted on their features in an accurate capture of their final moments.

Your eyes skittered over them, catching the familiar resemblance of your various torturers, teachers and other classmates. Colourful decorations splattered with scarlet from the blood spray added a grim touch to the morbid sight, glass shattered and gleaming like jewels under the stringed lights hung from the rafters.
It was a massacre.

Your stomach clenched, heaving as the nauseating stench of acrid metal filled your nostrils. Your body quaked with perpetual shock, a hand clamping over your mouth to prevent you from gagging.

No. This is a dream. It's not real, it's not...

But your core, the deepest chord of you knew that it wasn't. Someone had slain these people like lambs at slaughter. Some monster had butchered these people for unknown reasons in the ultimate overkill as you absorbed the horrifying display.