Tiny Human! (Creepypasta X female reader???)

Well. That just happened.

It was tiring to say the least.

Doing paperwork over more paperwork on top of completed paperwork does that to a normal human being.

All I had to do was sort out the papers, write my own reports to the higher ups, and discard the papers that weren't my business. That, or sending those papers to people who need it for evidence against the court. But a job is a job. And lately the requests for certain papers have been... Interesting. And it was the only thing that really kept me awake. Whether that be willingly or forcefully. These reports being demanded were morbid as the dark depths of the afterlife for sinners beyond saveable. Keeping me awake with dreams plagued with dark edges and deep red centres. And again, it was that or with thoughts overriding any chance for sleep. It was getting annoying and was affecting my work harshly. I almost slipped twice now with giving out the 'okay' for printing to the public with reports or files that's supposed to be only for the government. I'm really surprised I haven't been fired yet.

Speaking of the government, what the hell were they doing with these murder reports and random pictures?

Each report that was to be passed up had been something about a murder. To the point where there was obviously a pattern. There was this one gruesome picture of a body so... mutated that the body couldn't be identified by any of the police. Which was then snatched away by the government. Another one being a strange picture of... a dog? That one haunted me for months with that same dog telling me to 'spread the word' or something. I was more than glad to hand the photo up to the upper ups when they finally arrived to take it. Maybe then they would feel the sleepy tiredness us lower employees have to feel. Anyway, those weird dreams stopped. Oh, right. Thinking about that dog made reminds me of that one report of a body found with this creepy smile carved into their face. And don't get me started on that similar murder, the only difference being the words 'Go to sleep, my prince' written in blood. Pretty sure those murders were from the same person. And the freaky part is, is that the 'go to sleep, my prince' murder wasn't the only murder with the murderer using blood for messages. Like the many reports of this murderer called 'Bloody Painter'. I only know his name by the messages he writes in blood. And they're freaky as realizing that you heard baby laughter at night when you don't have a child. 'Don't be excited for tomorrow... for there is no tomorrow'. Like what in the actual name of- erm. But then again, I don't know if Bloody Painter is a girl or not...

I place down one of the reports into the send up pile, it was getting increasingly big, almost to the point where I had to extend to my full height to even reach the top. I gently rub an ache in my neck, sitting back in the cool leather chair, taking another, almost revolting, sip of bitter coffee. Enjoying the small piece of procrastination. Looking around the small and bare office that was given to me. A small green tree was growing in the right corner of the blinding white roomed walls, the edges of its leaves a crisp brown and drooping. The aircon was almost a huge white brick floating above the translucent double doors across the centre of the room, blasting cool air right above my head. There was a filing cabinet almost the size of one whole wall, being a nice contrasting grey against all the white, the only other color splashing against the overpowering white being the poor plant. But other than that, there was only the white leather chair, the white desk that had draws on the right side, and the uncomfortable white seats that stood in front of it. That and all those annoying papers that wanted to fly away. This is absolutely ridiculous. I think. no worker should have this much paperwork. I'm sure I'm going to slip up, sooner or later. And the smell of fresh coffee is starting to make me feel woozy... No wonder people leave this position so quickly. They could at least give us paper weights...

"Mr Jankai, I Presume?" An inhumanly deep voice interrupted.

Jumping up, I look at the person who had seemingly appeared out of thin air. By his stature and build, the person looked very much like a male. He had long, dark blue jeans, black combat boots and... a color that contrasted so strongly that I had to squint at first. Double backing with a speeding heart and churning stomach as I realized three very important details. A bright yellow hoodie? Freaky black mask? FREAKY RED FROWN!?!?!?