The Creepypasta Hunter (Male reader vs CPverse) ☆500 FOLLOWERS SPECIAL☆

6-Sideshow Detour

My wrists hurt. The sensation of rope digging into my skin is what woke me up. I open my eyes and.... oh God, I wish I hadn't. Sitting around the dining room table in front of me, flopped into chairs with mutilated faces, are the still bodies of people I know. Dread quickly wells up in me the longer I look about. I try to scream, but something in my mouth is stopping me. I keep trying anyway.

A voice is heard. I barely understand it, but I know who it belongs to. Snapping my head towards the source, the feeling of dread soon turns to absolute terror. Standing just a ways away is a thin male figure in a bloodied white hoodie. Face as pale as bone with mop-like black hair hanging about. Wide unblinking eyes stare back at me with an unnerving gaze.

However, what immediately catches my attention is that unnatural smile literally stretching from ear-to-ear. It somehow grows wider as the figure continues to stares at me. I quickly go in a panic as this psychopath gets closer, trying all I can to free myself from my bonds. This just made my wrists hurt more.

He finally gets in front of me, looking me dead in the eyes with that hellish smile. His mouth starts moving, but I can't make out what he's saying. Jumbled up words strewn together in butchered sentences as he talks. Each word that passes still manages to terrify me to the core.

Not long after, he steps away to the side and reaches for something. He soon comes back with a can of gas and a bottle of what looks like bleach. The sight of the two causes me to struggle even more, my screams continuing to be muffled by the gag. Both liquids in his hands, he lifts them over me and starts pouring the contents all over my body. My constant struggles just splashing them all around.

After what felt like forever, the two containers are finally empty and tossed to the side. He then reaches behind him and pulls out a small lighter.

-

Lying in the back of your van, Jane fidgets in her sleep. The occasional whimper escape her lips. Not long after, her body shakes violently as she screams bloody murder. In one final spasm, she jolts up hyperventilating as she looks around.

Her breathing returns to normal as she soon remembers where she is. A rolled up chain to her left, and that goddamn mannequin to her right assuring her that she is semi safe.

(Y/n): Well good morning, sunshine.

Your deadpan voice catches Jane's attention, snapping her head towards the open back of the van. You don't make eye contact as you rummage around one of your lock boxes and pull out a couple shotgun shells. Storing them away in a pocket, you close the box and place it back with the rest. After grabbing a few more necessary items, you leave the door open for Jane as you make your way around the van.

Jane takes a minute to collect herself before exiting out of the vehicle. Doing a little stretch, she shakes away any remaining sleep in her as she checks her surroundings. Trees as far as the eye could see, rays of sunshine piercing the trees above, and nothing but the sounds of birds and bugs on the wind. Finished admiring the scenery, she walks around the van and soon spots you holding binoculars up to your eyes while standing off in the distance.

Jane: Where are we?

(Y/n): Alabama. Found something.

You hand over the binoculars as you continue to stare at the same direction. Jane grabs them in confusion as she uses them to see what you see. Off in the far distance, barely seen between the thick trees, is what looks like an old abandoned building. As the fem-pasta is about to question about it, she faintly spots a crude sign.

"GRANDE'S MAGIC SHOW"

This surprises Jane as she moves the binoculars away.

Jane: Papa Grande? I thought he was in West Virginia?