All Fun And Lies - A Team Crafted Creepypasta

Okay, so basically my friend told me if I wrote a team crafted creepypasta that scared her she would pay me. So enjoy!...or not.

Much warning. Very death. So gore. Such violent. Many blood. Wow.

Mitch and Jerome walked down the gravel road, chatting and laughing about their latest hunger games. "...and the guy had no weapon, so I just kept slapping him with steak!" Mitch was saying. Jerome laughed. "Only you, buddy!"
"Well, see you tomorrow biggums," Mitch said as they stopped at his house. Jerome waved as Mitch walked up the gravel road and walked through the wooden door to his fairly sized minecraftian house.
Jerome turned and continued down the pathway farther, now alone. His house-his treehouse, because where else could a bacca live-was farther down the road. The smile he wore when with his friends quickly faded into a slight frown.
Everyone knew the happy, random, funny bacca Jerome. Nobody knew the real Jerome, the one he hid away in public, the one with dark thoughts who knew he was surrounded in lies.
Lies. Every day, he was well aware of the deception around him, although he pretended not to know, or to care.
As he walked, he gave a small smirk to himself, imagining how people would react if they knew what was really on his mind.
They would be concerned for him, they would ask him, 'what lies?' And 'what do you mean?' They would be confused and scared for him.
And he would just tell them of the lies they lived on. What Minecraft itself lived on. Hunger Games? Throwing innocent people into a large arena to shamelessly kill each other with no regrets. Cops N' Robbers? An innocent cop just doing his job terrorized by ruthless prisoners who considered it fun to tease him and mess with him while escaping. Splegg? Throwing raw eggs at people to knock them into a dark, infinite abyss to nowhere.
Minecraft was not fun. Minecraft was all lies in games. The idiots of the world believed these tortures to be 'fun'.
And yet, the people, if they ever knew of Jerome's thoughts, would ask, 'why do you still play the games you hate so much?'
And Jerome had a perfectly good answer.
If you did not play games, others would be suspicious. If you did not play games, others would ignore you and leave you to be a loner. If you did not play games, society would not give you a life.
Jerome arrived at his treehouse.
He climbed the ladder up the trunk into the small living area just below the canopy of the large tree, and flopped down onto his bed once he was inside, staring blankly at the ceiling.
The dark thoughts that had lay inside him for many years rose slowly, slowly, every day. For months he wished to show the world how he really felt, to show them how cruel the games could be, to show them that death was not a fun game.
Death was real, and death was not fun.
There was one simple way to show this cruel, sick, messed-up world the truth behind these games, the reality of demise.
Bring death upon them.
And Jerome had the greatest, most brilliant plan, that he thought about all night as he lay in bed, the square moon rising in the night sky.
The next day, Jerome woke up with a start, ready to begin the day. He quickly gnawed on a raw fish and grabbed his trusty diamond axe, Betty, off of an item frame on the wall.
Betty was for dire emergencies.
This was an emergency.
Leaving the house, he set off into the forest, towards the swamplands where he knew his first victim would be.
As he walked past the clustered trees, he smiled to himself imagining how he would finally release his dark feelings to the world.
Eventually, the trees thinned out and the grass became darker and taller, which meant he was in the swamps. After walking for a little bit through the marsh he finally saw something bright blue in a small pond.
Walking quietly, he saw it was Quentin, facing the other way so he wouldn't see Jerome.
Quentin was sitting in the water, his head and chest above the surface with his arms behind his head. He was laying against the wall of the pond, and his eyes were closed. The mudkip was peacefully resting in his natural habitat.
Jerome now stood directly behind Quentin, who was still oblivious to his presence.
Silently, Jerome raised the axe over his head, eyes locked on his target, and as quickly with as much power as he could, brought it down on the mudkip's head.
He was dead the moment it made contact. He probably didn't even have time to wake up.
Jerome stared at the body, crimson blood spewing from the large gash in his head, Betty still wedged tightly in it. The blood steadily rolled down his head, on his shoulders, into the pond, turning it a murky red at a steady pace.
He was still in the relaxed position, slightly crumpled from the impact of the axe.
Jerome grabbed Betty with both hands and put one foot on the mudkip head, and pulled hard.
The axe jolted free after a couple moments, and even more blood poured out from the huge deep gash in the head.
Furtherly inspecting the would, Jerome saw that it had cracked the skull and had most likely hit the brain as well-he couldn't see with the blood steady flowing, but it was a guess.
Now, this was all about getting the message shown. So, Jerome had to make sure it would be easy to find the corpse.
Grabbing the limp body by the shoulders, Jerome gave it a push that sent it floating to the center of the pond. In the new position, the blood flow would go into the water, not down the shoulders, and therefore it would soon look like Quentin was peacefully floating in a pool of his own blood.
That would definitely do the trick.
Jerome dipped Betty into part of the lake that the blood hadn't spread to yet and shook it lightly, washing the blood off.
Taking it out, he held it over his shoulder as he set off on his next victim.
Now, this one would be a bit tricky.
Ian baked cakes at his bakery at around this time, which was in a town area, so there would be other people. However, people often didn't go to Ian's bakery, unless they were just friends to hang out with. His cakes were not the best, and at this time of day most people were busy doing their own thing. Playing those sickening games, perhaps.
Jerome made it to the plaza, which was fairly empty. The few people he saw who waved hi to him or greeted, he said hi to and waved right back at like a normal civilian. They weren't his targets. They didn't need to know what was happening until he wanted them to.
He strolled into Ian's bakery. As he suspected, it was empty. Ian wasn't at the counter, which meant he must be in the room behind the counter where he cooked.
Jerome hopped over the counter easily and pushed open the door to the cooking area. It was better that Ian was in here-there were no windows.
Ian was at a furnace, cooking something that smelled rather foul, but that could just be because Jerome highly disliked any cooked food of any sort.
"Huh? Oh, hey dood!" Ian greeted, hearing the door opening and turning around.
"Hey dood," Jerome said.
Ian opened his mouth and looked as if he were about to ask Jerome what he was doing back in the kitchen room, but he never got the chance.
With all his strength, Jerome threw the axe back then thrust it forward, a cyan blur, jabbing straight into Ian's torso.
Ian screamed in pain. "J-Jerome?!" he asked, voice strained with pain an bewilderment. Jerome said nothing as he pulled the axe out of its victim. Ian cried out again, then groaned and stumbled to the ground as blood poured from his chest, already forming a crimson pool on the wooden plank floor.
"W-why?" Ian sobbed.
"Why won't you die?" Jerome replied frustratedly, and put a foot on Ian's shoulder to keep him steady as he raised the axe and brought it down again on Ian's torso.
Ian made several choking/coughing sounds, then fell silent.
Jerome pulled Betty out of his dead friend.
He set the axe down, away from the pool of blood spreading rapidly across the wood, and grabbed the body off of the floor.
He dragged it out into the main bakery room, leaving a ragged red smear in its path, and hoisted it up and onto the counter with a flop.
Just for humor, Jerome took off Ian's glasses and walked back into the cooking room, where the floor was smeared with blood, and stuck them in the furnace with whatever meat was cooking in there-whatever it was, it was long-burnt by now.
Jerome looked at his bloody paws and realized he would have to leave through the back after washing up.
He walked over to a cauldron filled with water that Ian used to wash his hands after he cooked, and dunked his hands in.
The blood quickly ran off his fur into the water, cleaner and more quickly spreading than Quentin's blood in the swamp water.
Once they looked good enough, he went and grabbed Betty off the floor, and exited through the back door of the bakery.
Wait! Jerome halted. Today was an important day.
It was Jason's birthday.
How could he have forgotten?
Jerome smirked, getting a great idea.
He hurried back out to the counter where Ian lay. His blood was now flowing steadily down the wooden blocks in deep red streaks, coming together in a pool below on the floor.
Jerome raised Betty and brought it down hard on Ian's throat, cleanly severing the head from the body. Jerome grabbed a stale cake from under the counter and placed it on the far end of the counter, away from most of the blood. He grabbed the head of Ian and placed it on the cake. The blood turned some of the icing from pearly white to bloody crimson.
"The perfect gift," Jerome said, and took the cake and Betty out the back door, off to Jason's house.
Jerome hurried through the forest biome; he knew a shortcut to Jason's house here. He carried Betty in one hand, underneath the cake he was holding with both hands.
Finally, he made out Jason's house in the distance; a small two-story wooden structure, but with the wide forest backyard with a wooden fence to keep mobs out at night.
For Jason's birthday, all of Team Crafted was coming to hang out at his house. Only Adam, Ty or Mitch were probably there...
Jerome walked up to the door and set the cake down quickly, an knocked.
"Come in!" Jason's voice called. Jerome left the cake and Betty outside for now and pushed the door open. Inside, Adam, Ty and Jason were lounging in the living room. Mitch wasn't here yet. Oh well; he would be soon.
"Hey Jerome!" Jason greeted.
"What, no gift?" Adam asked with a fake frown.
"Hey guys! Oh, no-I have a gift, it's just outside," Jerome replied.
"Is it big? You need help getting it inside?" Ty asked.
"Nah, I'll get it now," Jerome said and went back outside, picking up the cake with Betty in one hand.
When he walked back inside with the cake and set it on a table, Adam screamed.
"OH MY GOD!"
"Oh god! That's so creepy, dude. This better be some kind of prank," Ty said with an amused glint in his eye. Ha, he thought it was a joke.
"Haha, no. Happy birthday, Jason!" Jerome exclaimed, and thrust Betty forward, directly into Jason's heart.
Jason let out a surprised scream and soon fell face-down to the ground. He didn't get back up.
"HOLY S---!" Adam screamed as a pool of blood quickly formed around Jason.
"J-Jerome?!" Ty asked with pure fear in his wide eyes.
Jerome slowly walked towards Adam and Ty, but Adam suddenly ran and grabbed a butter sword that hung on the wall for decoration, and held it up defensively.
Jerome tried not to laugh. If Adam wanted to fight back, so be it.
Without taking his eyes off Adam, he quickly slapped Ty's head with the flat side of Betty, knocking him unconscious. He crumpled to the ground with a moan.
Adam stared at Ty, his hands slightly shaking on the handle of the sword, then looked to Jerome with fear and anger.
He raised the sword and charged at Jerome, who stood perfectly still.
Adam swung his sword down on Jerome's head, but Jerome quickly thrust Betty up to block it, and there was a harsh clang of the collision of diamond and butter.
Adam quickly drew back and jabbed his sword forward at Jerome's chest, but once again he thrust Betty in front to block.
"You done yet?" Jerome said with mock boredom, and kicked Adam hard in the shin. His friend gasped in pain and stumbled back. He raised his sword as to attack again, but Jerome swung Betty in a wide arc, colliding with the sword and knocking it out of Adam's grasp.
Adam stared at the sword on the ground in terror, and Jerome punched him hard in the chest while he was distracted. Adam cried out in pain, and Jerome easily kicked him to the ground while he was recovering.
Jerome held Betty with one hand, holding it so the handle pointed down at Adam and the blade pointed to the ceiling, and jabbed it down hard repeatedly on Adam's face.
Adam screamed in pain, his sunglasses cracked with blood and tears streaming down his face. Jerome kept stabbing with the axe handle until Adam stopped screaming.
Then, he stood up and grabbed the butter sword. He then grabbed Adam's limp body by the shoulder and held it up against the wall.
Taking the butter sword, he impaled it through Adam's chest, and stepped back.
The sword went through the body into the wall, hanging it as blood streamed down the wall.
Jerome heard the slightest creaking sound and whipped around.
Ty had regained consciousness, and was rubbing his head while stumbling quietly towards the door tears streaming down his face.
"Where are you going?" Jerome asked, picking up Betty again. He threw it as hard as he could across the room, and it neatly impaled itself in the side of Ty's head, knocking him against the wall with a thump. His eyes glazed and he slowly slid down.
Jerome stretched and walked over to retrieve the axe, carefully stepping over Jason and his pool of blood.
He stood up and looked around the blood-splattered room, just as the door flew open. Jerome whipped and saw Mitch standing in the doorway. He was panting heavily, as if he had ran here, and was holding a brand new bow with a red ribbon around it with a quiver slung over his back, obviously a present for Jason. His face was contorted with fear.
"Guys! Ian and Quentin were found dead-" he screamed, then stopped when he saw the bloody mass around him.
Ian's severed head upon a cake sitting on a table in the living room.
Jason lying facedown in a pool of blood.
Adam pinned to the wall with a butter sword, blood streaming down into a puddle still forming below.
Ty slumped against the wall with a huge gash in the side of his head, flowing steadily all over his clean white shirt and the floor.
Jerome, standing over him, holding a blood-splattered diamond axe, calmly staring at Mitch.
"......What...?" Mitch said in total shock, his mouth hanging open and his eyes stretched wide with fear.
He looked to Jerome. "Y-You....did you...?" he asked, shaking.
Jerome gave a terrible smile, and took a step towards Mitch, who quickly pulled an arrow out of the quiver and nocked it, aiming threateningly at Jerome's head.
"Why would you do this?" Mitch choked, tears beginning to stream down his face.
"Don't you see, Mitch? Everything in Minecraft is a lie. These are not games, these are horrible tortures," Jerome replied calmly.
"Y-you..." Mitch began, but was speechless.
Jerome raised Betty and charged at Mitch. Mitch gasped and quickly dodged it by an inch. Jerome quickly regained his balance and whipped around to see Mitch running up the stairs in the back. Jerome took off after him.
Once Mitch was at the top of the stairs he whipped around and drew the bow. Jerome quickly reached the stairs after him and began climbing up, but Mitch fired the first arrow at him. Jerome ducked and barely avoided getting shot in the head, but before he could look up again pain seared his shoulder as Mitch fired a second arrow that planted itself firmly in it.
Jerome roared with anger and pain and ran up the stairs. Mitch quickly ran down the hallway of the second floor, searching desperately for any kind of weapon he could use. He could hear Jerome right behind him, and ran faster, running into Jason's room in hope that he would gave a sword or something in there...
He made for the chest right besides Jason's bed and was relieved to find an iron sword. He dropped the bow and swung the sword around just as Jerome brought his ace down on Mitch's head.
Once again, a clang rang out from the iron on diamond. Jerome growled and stepped back, knowing Mitch would be a harder opponent than Adam.
Mitch held the sword up defensively, tears streaming down his cheeks, and Jerome charged at him, raising Betty as he ran.
Mitch once again dodged and slashed the sword out. making contact with Jerome's cheek. Jerome screamed angrily in pain as a neat red line on his face began to flow through his fur with blood. Filled with rage, he swung Betty, so quick it was a cyan blur, at Mitch's head, and whacked him hard with the side of the blade like he had with Ty. Mitch cried out and fell to the floor, the iron sword released from his grip and falling with a clank beside him. Jerome grabbed the bow Mitch had gotten Jason as a present and pulled off the red ribbon. Rushing over to Mitch, who was groaning and struggling to push himself up, he threw the ribbon around Mitch's neck and pulled as hard as he could.
Mitch gasped and he grabbed Jerome's arms, shaking them in attempt to free himself, but Jerome had a firm grip. Mitch's attempts grew weaker and weaker until his hands loosened their grip from Jerome's arms and he stopped choking. Jerome released the red ribbon from Mitch's throat, and Mitch's body fell back on the floor with a thud. Jerome grabbed the body and slammed it with all his might against the window in Jason's room. The glass shattered, and he released his grip, watching Mitch fall with the shards of glass until he landed on a fencepost that was part of the fence that surrounded Jason's house.
The fencepost impaled him through his stomach, and he lay down there, dead.
Jerome stared at it for a long time. They were finally dead.
He took a step back from the window, then fell to his knees and cried.