You Won't Wake Up: A CreepyPasta FanFiction (Watty's 2014)

The Rage Elixir: Sally's POV

"Liquid Hate?" Ben asks, scratching his head as he looks down at the note. I had found him in a tree in the graveyard, looking down at a grave below him. I didn't need to look at it to know it was mine.
"Yeah."
"How in hell am I going to look this up?" He mumbles to himself. I shrug, not knowing myself.
"I guess I could just- no that wouldn't work." He continues, trailing off in thought. He looks down at the paper, as I look at him optimistically, praying that he can come up with something. I know myself that I can't, but I hope that he can.
"I could, I could, uh, Sally? We're going to go someplace where I can get in easily, and you can too, but you need to know right now where we're going."
"Where?"
"My old house."
________________________________________

He had weaved us through suburban houses, until we stumbled across one with the woods melting into its backyard. He motions me forward, as I noticed the weeds springing up everywhere in the yard. The spring door is falling off of its hinges, as Ben creaks it open. I notice the disarray of the entire house.
"I think its abandoned. I think my parents moved away once I died. I'm sure some bums have been lounging around here though. We just got to get to my old room. I know my parents locked it up and wouldn't let anyone in it." He explains, as he cautiously steps on each stair, as I follow him.
Finally he stops before a door, as he hesitantly tries to turn it, trying to open it.
"Just as I thought."
"You mean you didn't know that it was locked? That you just guessed?"
"Yeah." He says sheepishly, turning to me with a weak smile fixed on his face.
"Nice job there, Ben."
"I do my best."
He peers into the keyhole, and turns to me.
"Now, either I could spend a good hour trying to get into this door by teleporting, or we could both try to break it down."
I sigh. An hour, or a good odd ten minutes of us both kicking this door.
"Let's just try and break it down."
And that's exactly what we did. Soon enough, the door popped open, as Ben pants.
"Great."
He picks his way through the room, as I notice the distant look in his eyes as he looks at the objects littering the ground. Old clothing, books, video games, toys, anything and everything that a child would have was in his room. He looks at the unmade bed in the center of the room, as I realize that they never disturbed this room since the day he died.
Did my parents do the same? Last time I checked, my parents sold the house, and got divorced. So no, my room wouldn't be in the same condition as Ben's, with dust covering each inch of any spare surface, with my bed sheets still rumpled.
He crawls over the bed, going to reach the desk a few feet away from the bed. A habit I'm sure he did all the time, rather than walk around his bed. He slides off of his bed, as I stand uncertainly in the doorway. He looks back at me, and gestures me over.
"I don't care if you sit on this old thing. I've learned that it hurts more when you don't talk about it, or when you don't allow it to go. It's kinda obvious, now that I think about it." I walk over to his bed, making sure I don't step on any of the objects on the floor. I sit next to Ben, as he reaches across to the old computer. He reaches for the monitor, and opens it up. He pulls out a circuit, and then closes his eyes. His brow furrows in concentration, as I notice a faint light coming from the circuit.
He carefully places it back into the computer, making sure each wire connects to the circuit. He sets up the computer, and then gives me a look, as he presses the power button. The screen lights up, as he sighs in relief.
"I thought it wouldn't work for a moment there."
"What did you do?" I ask, curious.
"Oh, you know, since I teleport using technology, I get the ability to fix electronics myself, without tools. So I'm able to use computers, like this, for a limited time without electricity. Don't ask me how it works, I have no idea."
"Cool." I say, slightly fascinated.
The computer warms up to a classic background of a field, as he clicks onto Firefox. His fingers race over the keyboard, as he types into the search engine.
Liquid Hate.
Pages of results pop up. Ben clicks on one, but it's no help. It's only on some new energy drink. I doubt Jane's big secret is an energy drink. Then, after minutes of idle searching, Ben finds it.
The Superhero Trials.
"Superhero Trials?"
I shrug, as he opens the link. It's an article on an experiment performed on about twenty five people, using a drug called Liquid Hate.
"Holy shit." He mutters, pointing at a bullet pointed list. I skim through it, as I see what he's noticed.
Jane Richardson, age twenty.
The experiment was performed four years ago.
Jane was twenty four when she died.
"Keep reading." I insist, as he keeps reading through it, scrolling quicker than I thought possibly. I catch some odd phrases, but that's it.
"A drug unlike any other. It was given in a dose that would be administered by drinking it to each patient, with hopes that the newfound drug could give the subject increased strength, stamina, agility, and speed. The drug was seen to increase mental ability, but with altering effects."
"Altering effects?" I ask, as he reads aloud.
"The drug was shown to change the subject's physical composition drastically. The sole survivor, a Miss Jane Richardson-"
"Jane."
"Originally had blonde hair, pale blue eyes, and fair skin, but after swallowing with a small dose of the drug, her entire eye turned pitch-black, her skin turned to a grayish white pallor, and her hair slowly faded to the color black. The drug was created in hopes that the subject who took it would become a superhero of sorts, and help in the fight against the rising crime rates of serial killers. It was created at first to take down the main suspect, Jeffrey Woods, or Jeff the Killer, who currently had been unstoppable. Unfortunately, it altered her not only physically, but mentally." Ben rattles off, his eyes growing wider as we both realize what it's saying.
"Wait, slow down." I say, looking at the screen, "So Jane was a lab experiment?"
"Yeah, I guess." Ben shrugs, glancing at me.
"Go on." I motion, as he continues to read aloud.
"The subject became very volatile a few minutes after taking the first dosage, and in her attempt to escape, she killed ten men, all larger than her. The drug requires several dosages in order to work correctly, and eventually, they were able to subdue her, and administer another dosage. Over time, each dosage got larger, until they were prepared to give her the last one, the one that would ensue that she wouldn't feel any negative effects from the drug. Unfortunately, as they attempted to administer it, she reacted violently, screaming and kicking, and managed to escape the facilities. It had been noted that the drug would give the subject homicidal tendencies. With Jane Richardson free from the laboratories, she was allowed to act however she pleased. And with that, she went on a rampage, killing anyone as she felt. It had been noted that the laboratories had made her think that she needed to kill the serial killers, and she had been hunting them down."
"Jane was trying to kill us?" I ask, incredulous, as he nods.
"Then-"
"What?"
"Jane said Jeff had killed her entire family, and then burned her alive. And that she was trying to get revenge on him. Why would she feel the need to hide it?" Ben asks, scratching his head. Why would she feel the need to hide it? Was she so ashamed of the fact that she had been experimented on that she would prefer to hide it?
"This is all just very confusing. She said in the note that her organs were crumpling within each other. Is it because she didn't take the final dosage?" I point out, as Ben nods, slowly.
"And then it was a drug that you administered. Remember how Jane would always be drinking something, and she wouldn't tell us what it is?"
"Oh my god." I mumble absentmindedly.
"Wait, wait, look at this-" he points at a paragraph on the page, as he continues to read, "the drug was odorless, and colorless. In fact, it could have been mistaken for water."
"That's what Jane was drinking?" I ask, as his eyes widen, our beliefs confirmed.
"The drug had made the subjects react violently, and she was gone for about three weeks, remember? Do you think she might have been breaking into the lab in hopes of getting a drug that could possibly save her life?" He notes slowly, his voice turning more and more awe-struck.
"And then your gaming system was broken. She might've destroyed it because she was worried she would take out the tendencies on us." I point out, as he nods quickly, his eyes distant.
"And she committed suicide because she figured it would be better than trying to live with a damaged body. I'm assuming that if you take the drug dose later than intended, it won't work." Ben points out, as I nod.
"So Jane had it all planned from the start? Get arrested, escape, and then go out with a bang?"
"I guess."
Then it happens. Rage fills my every pore, and I can't help it. I need to. I need to go now.
"See you later, Ben."
"What? Where are you going-"
"Bye." I mutter, and disappear.
I need to kill someone.
Before I kill myself.
______________________________________

I had found the man walking the streets, alone, in mid afternoon. I disposed of him fairly quickly, but it wasn't enough. I needed more.
So I continued to walk, knowing that no one would question me if I kept my head down and this hoodie I took on. fAnd so I broke into a house within seconds, and before I knew it, another man laid dead by my hands. I drop the knife, as it clatters on the hardwood.
No sirens.
Odd, but I'll deal.
Then the door clicks open. I turn, darting for the knife. I roll, somersaulting. Finally, a little more, excitement. After these two days of hell, of not doing anything but kidnapping and summoning Slender, I am able to let it all out. At least, until the girl standing in the doorway calls out, her voice cracking.
"D-dad?" She asks, and rushes forward to the body, as I remain out of sight, out of mind.
"But, they arrested all of them! I thought-" She breaks out in a sob, as she looks around, unhitching something from her belt.
A gun.
"Get the hell out here! Right now! I'm not afraid of you!" She screams, her blonde hair hanging over her eyes. I limp out, my knees buckling together, as I fix my smile towards her.
"Hello."
"You're fucking kidding me right now. First-" She raises the gun toward me, as I cock my head to the side.
"You should know that that won't hurt me." I snicker, as she stands defiant.
"Well, do you want to find out how your dear friends are doing?"
That's enough to halt me in my tracks, as I notice something. Her arms are covered in odd, black bruises, almost as if someone tightened ropes around her. Her neck bears the same strange markings, as I realize slowly that she's had an encounter with Slender.
"Tell me, have you been getting headaches recently?" I ask, suddenly sure of what has happened.
"What?"
"Have you been getting headaches recently?" I demand, lowering my knife, and allowing it to drop to the ground. She looks at me bewildered, still kneeling by her father's corpse, gun still raised by both of her hands.
"Yes, I have, okay? Now, do you want to know about your friends or not-"
"What's your name?"
"Ju-Juliana Kingsbury."
"Have you been in a situation with Masky, Hoodie, or Ticci Toby?" I ask, my voice urgent. She nods slowly, as she in turn lowers her weapon.
"How did you know?"
"Oh my god." I mutter, looking at her.
"Did anything happen while you were questioning him?" I ask, as she looks at me, baffled and apprehensive.
"Yes- how did you-"
"Oh my god. You're gonna die! You're gonna die!" I shriek in delight, as the same bewildered expression stays on her face.
"What?"
"My god! This is great! You're gonna die! Take that! Finally, finally we've won something!" I snicker, my grin growing wider as I realize how doomed she is.
I wipe away tears as I continue, "I won't kill you. Because he is. Oh, this is great!"
"What do you mean I'm going to die?" She asks, outraged. I giggle, shrugging my shoulders.
"You just are. Have fun!"
"Wait! Don't you want to know what's happening?"
"Not particularly. Not like you would tell the truth anyway." I finish, and my arm snaps. She recoils back from the punch, as I bend down, grabbing the knife. I take one last look before I jump out of the window.
"Thank you, Juliana Kingsbury."