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blinkie [F2U] by witchb0y These are the Rules. Please Read before Submitting! blinkie [F2U] by witchb0y

1. Please follow the Golden Rule; treat others the way you want to be treated. Regard the admins and other Pasta Eaters with respect.

2. Do not argue with the admins. If you have a complain about how your situation was handled, send a complaint in the form of a note to the group.

3. Please submit to the right folder. If you do not, your work will be declined without explanation. An explanation of the folders is available on the main page. (WIP. Since the folder explanations need to be rewritten, if you submit to the wrong folder you will be told where to submit to until this is fixed.)

4.a No (sexual) mature content is allowed in the group. This includes 'censored' art. Please remember that linking off site to sexually explicit work in your artist's descriptions is against dA policy. This rule also includes fetish art (inflation, muscle growth, vore, etc.)

4.b Mature content (gore, blood, strong language) is allowed. All mature content must have the correct filters on it and be within dA policy.

5.a Art of Laughing Jack/associated and Sexual Offenderman/associated are no longer allowed in the group.

5.b By request of the creator, we will no longer be accepting artwork of Ticci Toby if the artwork features his new design.

6. Theories on existing creepypastas belong in Fanart-Creepypasta, as well as any written work about existing creepypastas(creepy fanfiction- canon x OC, canon meets canon, etc). The only thing that goes into the pasta folders should be the pastas themselves.

7. Creepypasta only! FNAF is not creepypasta, Alice: Madness Returns is not creepypasta, Freddy and Jason are not creepypasta, etc.

8.aNo hate speech or hate art. No ableism, racism, sexism, or rape culture. If you can't make a story scary without falling back on demonizing or exploiting minorities, you need more practice. This includes pictures of Jeff/whoever killing 'fangirls' or 'Mary-Sues' or visa versa. This is not the place for your vendettas against fictional characters.

8.b No straightjackets. Straightjackets were once used as a tool in the rampant medical abuse of the neurodivergent. Pictures that romanticize straightjackets or other forms of medical abuse (ex. chains being used to restrain a patient) will not be allowed in the group.

9. No low-effort work such as bases, MMD, recolored game-sprites, etc. It doesn't matter how bad your digital/traditional art is, you'll get better with practice. If you draw it yourself, it will make it into the group so don't worry! This is a place for artists to get better, we don't have a quality standard. NO AI 'ART'.

There is a three strike system in regards to violations. For works submitted to the group, any rule violations in either the piece or the meta (descriptions and comments by the original poster) will issue a strike.

First strike and second strikes are warnings. Third strike is being kicked from the group.

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Founded 13 Years ago
May 14, 2011


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Original Creepypasta

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Nagghark (CREEPYPASTA English)I wake up with a slight start when I feel movement. I raise my sore head as I move it heavily from side to side, feeling the slight creak of the few moving vertebrae until they crack with satisfaction.Even with tired eyes I look out the bus window towards the horizon barely illuminated by the faint rays of the sun on this warm summer morning.Yawning, I take out my cell phone to check the time, waiting for the light from the screen to wake me up, but it only manages to blind me for a few seconds. I forgot to lower the brightness before boarding, now I have a low charge at 5 in the morning. Gorgeous…Somewhat resigned to the unequivocal fact that I won't be able to charge it until I reach my destination, I unlock it and check my gallery out of boredom since I also have no coverage on this road far from any civilization for hours away.If I'm not mistaken, the nearest town was 3 hours away, we only stopped there for fuel and so that the few passengers like me could use the toilet. A time so insignificant that it was not even worth trying to charge this device.Although I just ramble a little while being here in my thoughts.I scroll through the few photos I have in my gallery hoping to feel nostalgic, but I just feel a bit of apathy. These photos are just from my college classic literature projects. As the asocial that I am, I didn't make any significant friendships these months.I am returning to my hometown after my second year of studies. Although more than a city, there are times when it is more of a town than a city.Where if you don't know someone, if you know someone else who does or someone else who does. I'm just trying to keep myself distracted so I can stay awake until I get to my parents' house, just entertaining myself with my scattered thoughts to avoid killing my battery.But in the end I end up falling asleep again, I only realize when things get sub-real.I have always been a lucid dreamer to a certain extent, I realize when I am asleep, but I am not able to control anything that happens in my dream world. I am just a mere spectator, oblivious to the stories that my head creates, some without much sense, others boring, some give me ideas for small drafts of stories that I never specify due to my fear of not being able to develop them as a good writer would.But... there are rare occasions in which a dream repeats itself to a certain extent, being in an endless palace of infinite doors where a being in a robe and a bird mask, quite similar to those of the black plague, looks at me attentively next to a A kind of specter with a wooden face and a body that is nothing more than a loose, wobbly suit.When I dream that I don't do much, I just walk through the endless hallways where from time to time I bump into a random person.Once I came across a dark hallway, at the end was a large door full of chains. Out of mere curiosity I approached to see the engravings on the wood, which looked more… aggressive and sinister than in the rest of the building.All I was doing was watching when a deep, booming voice shook me from behind.“Get away from that which is well imprisoned, because behind those doors you will find the calamity of humanity.Go back the way you came, young man, because death will not always be merciful to the careless.”I knew I was dreaming, but the echo of his words resonated in my head and chest. That time I woke up in a cold sweat as if a nightmare were tormenting a child. Return to that dream just a few more times, but always avoid those doors like the plague…Now I open my eyes again, still tired, in my city. Watching the small buildings go by, barely recognizing the surroundings.I only skipped last summer to focus on my studies, it seemed like a good idea at the time, but I just ended up burning myself out mentally and physically. For many, 2 years are nothing when you are there, seeing how little by little everything changes and they quickly get used to it.While those of us who returned after considerable time noticed the changes immediately, the city has grown on top of everything else.Finally arrived at the station, when I get off I feel my body numb from the lack of movement for so long.I grab my backpack that seems heavier than normal while the sky seems as melancholic as I am tired.Wandering through the streets that now seem unknown trying to find my way home while the thick clouds drop their small tears on the earth.Moving my eyes from one establishment to another until I stop at an old building, this is the bookstore where my grandfather used to take me and spend hours among the paper and leather of the books he bought me.I abandon my path to enter that place full of memories that is like a mere dry shell. The old buildings are as old as the city itself, almost 100 years old, a building with the architectural traces of the time eroded by abandonment.I see the door ajar, which doesn't surprise me, probably because of teenagers looking to loot what little is left and scratch the walls.I enter with the squeak of the door gnawed by insects and humidity, it seems that the rotten wood will fall from the rusty hinges with minimal effort while the worn floor is not far behind. Sponged and splintered by water.My steps barely make a sound before the squeaking that my feet cause. The air is heavy with that intense aroma of mold, dust and rot. I can almost perceive a dead animal forgotten in some corner.Looking around it is impossible not to notice the dirt and cobwebs. Everything seems to be painted brownish gray, the color of the forgotten. Although it seems that the furniture is in better condition than I imagined apart from some shelves that finally gave way under the weight of the books that were incredibly untouched.I pick one up at random, cleaning the thick layer of grime that has formed on the covers. Inside, the pages are pitted by insects and yellowed along with those strange greenish-brown stains that I imagine are mold.So I leave it there a little disgusted, maybe I should explore faster for the sake of my health.I walk through the artificial corridors formed by the old shelves, I remembered everything bigger, but it must be the distortion of my childhood memories.I climb the stairs to the second floor, step after step the creaking of the wood is less pronounced until I reach the second floor, the former owner's residence.The space feels a little suffocating, the classic closed layout of old houses as described by the classic sites I have studied. I pass through the living room and dining room, but I stop in the kitchen.It is in very good condition, there is almost no dirt, I can see some boxes and cans of food on the shelves.Maybe some homeless man took this place as his refuge, but he ruled it out since this is not gasoline food, so...Maybe some guys who made this place their clubhouse? It seems most likely, although the lack of junk food makes me doubt it.I only know that someone has been living here, I get tense thinking that I'm not really alone here.I calm myself by remarking that I've already made enough noise, if someone is here, they would have already come out or woken up to confront me. My head says I should just get out, but my impulse to be idiotic is for some reason stronger right now.I continue down the small hallway that leads to the bedrooms and the bathroom.Only 2 medium-sized rooms that I imagine belonged to the owner's children during his fleeting childhood and later became secondary warehouses. The bathroom, I'm not interested, I don't want to see what rubbish is there since I imagine they turned off the water a long time agoOn the other hand, the main room is what attracts attention. Cleaner than the kitchen, an old double mattress thrown in the corner completely ignoring the rotted frame of the old bed.There are some sheets on the mattress, one medium thick to cover yourself and another rolled up as a makeshift pillow. Seeing him like this, he seems more like someone who ran away from home and stayed in the first abandoned place he saw.Maybe it's just someone who needs help.I see a tiny pile of clothes in the corner by the door, at first glance it's just oversized, moderately dirty clothes. Are these clothes for humans or bears? These t-shirts are absurdly large.Upon checking a little more I notice something that leaves me cold. I am motionless as I notice blood stains on the clothes under the first one I grab.Clearing them I realize that the simple splashes I initially saw are practically dyeing more than half of the fabrics.What the hell have I gotten myself into?It didn't occur to me that this could be the hideout of a criminal, a serial killer.I try to convince myself that maybe it's animal blood, but it's too much to come from a standard local butcher shop worker, let alone game, there are no prey or farmed animals in this area.Plus, now my DNA is here everywhere, I feel terrified and weak-legged.I lean against the wall trying to clear my head, I am overwhelmed by my fatalistic thoughts, I can only imagine a worse scenario than the previous one.That is until a sound on the ground floor leaves me blank, I notice a rotten hole in the floor where I can see. I crawl carefully to look out and see a man as huge as a mountain with silver hair enter through the back door.I don't see his face as he grabs a book from the old shelves when he seems to stop and look directly into my eyes.I panic, I don't even wait to see his face when I wake up sweating. All I can think of is to escape from here as soon as possible.I try to move quickly, but silently while I listen to the heavy footsteps of the giant that stalks me while my heart beats like crazy without knowing where to go.I get more and more anxious as I feel the rumbling of the wood getting closer and closer as a thought clicks in me.In the attic there are some old stairs that lead to the alley behind. Now I have a way out, but I still know not to let him hear where I am.I move as quickly as I can afford to the small flight of stairs hidden between the rooms I managed to see before, but a loud squeak under my feet gives me away.That subject's steps are no longer cautious, they are now fast and intense towards my direction. To hell with care, I have to get out of here now.I run up the narrow stairs as much as my legs can hold, I run into the door, but it is closed. I only have to tear it down, taking into account the wear and tear of humidity and moths, it shouldn't be that difficult, right?I throw my entire body against the old wood, hoping that my weight will be enough to make the hinges come off.It gets a little loose the first time, my adrenaline shoots to the sky as I hear footsteps just a few meters from the start of the stairs.I give a second push with everything, finally the door falls and I with it when I feel a slight whistle next to my ear.I recover almost instantly to rush out to that large window that overlooks the stairs.When I am just a few steps away I look over my shoulder, there is this huge, burly man. I can barely notice that he is wearing a strange mask when the ground gives way under my weight.I only know that I fall one floor and then another until everything turns black.. . . Ugh. . .Pain, that's all I feel and think. I writhe on the cold floor like a dying animal and with difficulty sit up, opening my eyes.It hurts to my bones, it's so dark, this ice cream here. Am I dead? I feel alive enough to be, although this feeling makes me want it to be so. God... I really think I broke something...I feel something on my cheek and ear, it's warm, I touch it and it feels a little thicker than water, I take out my cell phone and turn on the flashlight. What I see is blood, my blood, that guy... Surely that buzzing sound was a knife he threw at me, it's not that deep, but I'm sure he threw it to kill.For Christ's sake... if the door didn't break at that moment I would surely be dead by now... At least I already escaped from that colossus, but the question is... where am I now?I try to illuminate my surroundings, all there are are shelves that continue as far as the light reaches, both on the sides and above, completely filled with books of all sizes and colors, although they seem to have the same style of decoration on the covers.Having one between my fingers, I try to shine by resting the cell phone on the shelf, the book feels somewhat heavy for its size, a small Bible with the density of a large one. Quite strange…I can't see the title well either, it's as if it had a blur filter right above the inscription, but I can perfectly see the fine wavy frames and the texture of the old tanned leather.I don't understand what's wrong with my eyes, I feel a slight discomfort in them, but no more than in the rest of my body.I just have to open it, the first page is blank, with a slight blue tint perhaps. But when you turn to any page...The letters are illegible, they move cracklingly like a mirage of black fire, how can they be moving?Aghh!!!My eyes!I feel a horrible pressure on my corneas that makes me scream and drop the writing, as if ice picks were being inserted into my brain... damn...… Trakita… Trakitac …I can't pay attention to my tears when I hear that sound that breaks the silence beyond my complaints. I get tense like a scared opossum, I can't identify where that sound is coming from.Trakitac tac… Trakitac Trakitac…It sounds louder, closer, coming from my left. Trembling, I clumsily grab my cell phone, but it slips from my sweaty hands, shining light into my eyes for a moment, which makes me drop it.I feel the panic shoot through my head again as I feel that sound getting closer, I just have to recover it, like a hungry animal would do to a piece of meat.Trakitac…Trakitac tac… Trakitac Trakitac tac.Shining a light on whatever is lurking to my left, my face twists into a grimace of horror at the sight of a creature that I can only briefly describe as an alien monstrosity, huge and imposing like an elephant.The creature recoils with a guttural sound as the light hits its face with four large, abyss-black eyes and then lets out a loud roar, something between a screech and a howl that makes me want to be deaf, but I can't think about it right now. My legs finally react, I run away like a bastard screaming like a cowardly child, I just want to escape from that thing or it will probably eat me or something.As I cut through these endless hallways I come across more of these creatures hanging from the shelves. I try to run as fast as my nerd body will allow me while still trying to process what those…things look like.Huge beasts with reptilian features, tiny fur, teeth and claws like daggers and 7 fucking limbs apart from those 4 horrible eyes.He only lacks tentacles to be a damn Lovecraft invention or a weird Japanese fetishist!. . . . .How long have I been running?10 minutes? My legs hurt like shit.I want to turn around, but at the same time I'm terrified of doing so, I hear the clash of the claws of those creatures behind my steps. But it gets worse, 1% battery!?No no no, nono o! Don't go out for the love of heaven, no!0% the device dies completely. It pisses me off!!!I can only continue running relentlessly in complete darkness cursing the universe. In a short time I can only hear my heart beating in my ears and feel that my legs are creaking from fatigue, my lungs are going to burst.If I was bad before, now I'm in dog shit.Finally, my limbs give out, falling face-first to the ground, I barely manage to save my nose when I turn around. I think I'm losing consciousness due to exhaustion, I don't know, it's so dark I can't make out.I have no idea how much time has passed, it could be minutes or hours. I just know that cortisol is already wreaking havoc on my cubicles.Before I felt like I was hit by a truck, now I just want to die.Now my eyes have adapted to this darkness, I think I see those creatures in the distance, but now they just ignore me, they are dispersing. Maybe... they were just irritated by the light? How stupid, of course that was.At least… now I can rest and think for a minute or two. Recapitulating…I returned to the city and took a detour to explore the old abandoned bookstore, it turned out to be the lair of a 2 meter muscular murderer, he saw me, I ran trying to escape through the attic, but the floor broke and I fell two stories, I lost my life. knowledge and I woke up here, some nightmare beasts chased me and I don't know how long it happened.Crazy day...A storm is brewing in my head, which probably has as many bruises as the rest of my body. How did I get here? Did that guy bring me?It's what repeats the most in my mind.I can only sigh, I will have no answer or even a way to return if I stay here like an old rag. Although I'm not in a position to rush either... I'll just rest until I can move like a human being and not like a roadkill.All there is is my breathing, the beating of my chest and the wandering of those monsters for quite a long time, I just watch them pass by. They climb the shelves carrying and arranging books and scrolls.An almost human act that makes me nervous while they act as if I didn't exist.The idiot in me makes me grab one of the hundreds of books around me in an attempt to keep myself entertained. But I have the same result, unreadable pages that only hurt my eyesight. These books must be cursed or something.I'm still a little sore, but I'm well enough to move, the zero notion of time here gives me the impression that days have passed, but strangely I don't feel hungry, just tired or sleepy.I walk for what seems like an eternity. I start to notice a slight blue light ahead, but it's too dim to be artificial.I advance until I reach the fountain, I find an immense room full of desks with people in tunics and masks writing, oblivious to the rest.There are a few with different masks going here and there, some drawing on the pages and others picking up what I think are the finished books to place on the spines of the limbed creatures.The dim light I perceive comes from beautiful vines with crystalline flowers that grow along the pillars of the room and the desks.Since the creatures are not aggressive at all, something tells me that neither are these people despite the fact that they seem to have a greeting from a cult.I carefully approach one of those people, even though I am in front of him I cannot distinguish if he is a man or a woman under that mask that covers half of his face, with a large open eye that seems to be fixed on the paper. On the other hand, those in charge of carrying the finished books have their eyes closed and their clothing lighter in a slight purple tone in the blue.I feel nervous, I try to speak kindly, but whoever is in front of me doesn't even flinch, he just continues writing. Frustration gets the better of me, and I suddenly take away the unfinished manuscript, with those same paragraphs that I am unable to read.The eye drawn on the mask moved, looking directly at me. Oh... now I'm worth it...What I thought was a person straightened up, showing that he has great height while dry sounds came out of his body, deforming what seemed to be a serious and peaceful face under a simple mask or an angry cyclops aberration.I fall backwards to the ground horrified, speechless before the beast that looms over me before its fellow men who continue their work apathetic to the rest.I feel like a scared fucking goat when that thing roars at me, a sound even scarier than the previous beasts.I close my eyes, resigned to my imminent death.However, a firm voice is present and I feel the book being snatched from my hand.“KF9.2002 goes back”I open my eyes, another hooded figure has placed the book on the table while the other recovers its previous appearance, resuming its work.When he turns around I am amazed by the shock and appearance of this new character. His figure is tall and slender, with light greenish clothing.Strands of long, silky hair fall from beneath his hood, framing a plain white mask with two eyes on the left, contrasting with the dark, shadowy skin that peeks out from under the tunic.“Lift your body from the cold ground, the creatures of this wasteland of knowledge are merciless when someone outside disturbs them”Finally he reacted and I stood up awkwardly, my legs still feeling like jelly from nerves. I try to ask who he is, what this place is and those creatures, but he raises his hand to silence me.“The great master of this foreign kingdom is the one who has called it to his dominions, only he has the power to answer your intrigues regarding his work.”“I would appreciate it if you would allow me to guide you to the great master.”It was enough for me to understand “answers” ​​for him to attend. That being began to move, I couldn't call it walking, since he seemed more like he was sliding since he didn't make any sound.I walked after that through corridors that seemed endless with shelves, the only thing that changed was the style of the bindings of the books on the shelves, one was even made of parchment.My poor sense of time is of no use here, so I am guided by the tiredness in my weary feet, although they hurt for not so long when we reach a clear area framed by bookstores.In the middle is an immense column of fabrics that emulate the beautiful night sky in the countryside that falls like a waterfall.Could it be that the man here is after those fabrics?I think about approaching when a sound stops me, the closest thing to the rumble of a large tree falling while being felled, the sound of the old wood creaking but that resonates even more before the figure eight in the room.This is stated in a peculiar way when a trunk as thick as a truck is planted next to the fabrics from above.When I look up I find what seems like 3 crescent moons of December shining from the darkness, just now I realized that this whole place is so vast that saying that I can't see the ceiling is as laughable as wanting to see the end of the sky.With a few soft claps from my guide the vines of the bookcases bloom bringing a faint but clear afterglow that allows me to see more clearly what I have in front of me.The presence of a being as coarse as the sea is clarified, with white skin under his night clothes, incredibly thin being in a posture as bent as an old man as long as a turtle and a face devoid of any feature beyond 3 luminous eyes. which I previously confused with moons.If I compared us it would be like putting a tiny ant next to a huge oak tree. However, that figure approaching, hunched over, clinging to that cane, makes it look like it would break when falling like any old man, but that doesn't make it any less imposing in my eyes.While I look at it almost with my mouth open, a sound that it emits takes me by surprise, laughter from that being.“Heh heh heh… I am grateful that even with this fragile appearance I am held in such high esteem in his eyes.”W…what?! Perhaps?“That's right, I am fully aware of everything that is going through your head and that of every being that is capable of thinking or feeling.”“But I recommend that you think carefully about your questions, the answers will be as clear as your questions.”Okay... I'm trying to put my thoughts in order. First of all, who or what are you?“He who is a matter of reflection, I am the one who always observes from a distance, the witness of everything that has happened and will happen without anyone knowing and on rare occasions will whisper it to mortals.While I, not even I know it, am something that precedes the time that anyone could calculate, I have seen the birth and death of countless realities whose lifespan for me is less than the blink of an eye.”In short, a vigilante older than all...What is this place and what is its purpose?“This is my library, my beloved creation and sole purpose, a reality as infinite as the knowledge dedicated to preserving every little thing that has happened and will happen. Some scholars of your branches have called my work the “Akashikos Records” although, I like to think that my work surpasses this concept."Something beyond the universe, a work more infinite than anything, without a doubt it is the greatest peak of the intellect.Well... my next question is... what are all those creatures that live in your world?“The beings you met when you arrived here are my archivists, they are in charge of organizing each smallest cell of the records in its corresponding place, despite their fearsome appearance for a common mortal, they are quite docile, although they do not like the light. How could you realize”“Those with human appearance like the one you bothered earlier are the scribes, those souls of the great authors who could not complete their works in life end up helping me transcribe the records here. Although they retain part of their human appearance, they are so absorbed in their task that distracting them from it is quite dangerous.”“Then there are the editors, they still retain part of their free will, they are in charge of adding illustrations, making aesthetic corrections and finishing the binding of each writing. They simply don't care what happens around them."I feel a chill, do all those who did not finish their works end up here?... it almost seems like a limbo for writers.Although there is something I overlook, what about my guide? And what is your name?“Oh right, how rude of me. Your escort is my appreciated assistant, my first creation that is responsible for giving me company, even a timeless and perpetual being like me knows what the emptiness of loneliness is. But... I never stopped to think of a name for his presence...Not even that talented young man who was here before you or my protégés… Given your interest, it seems plausible to me that you would give it to him.”Should I give you a name?I really didn't expect such a thing... but if I had to give him one... Maybe Dolika?“A beautiful name influenced by the androgynous features of my creation, meaning “doll” seems to me quite in line with its origin”“Now, returning to your question, I never saw the need to have a name until I brought in that talent, he called me Nagghark, a name greatly influenced by his future literary creations.It was a shame that his work was not recognized until after his death at 46... Quite young in my opinion, but also just as xenophobic."A peculiar name, but it sounds familiar at the same time. But I can't think about that anymore, I have other issues that eat away at me more right now.Since you know everything, could you tell me who that huge man was who chased me before I got here?“That burly man was one of my protégés, he calls himself Jambazi, a nickname from his ancient land.As you realized, you ran into one of his shelters. In the timelines that you ignored the bookstore of your childhood you lived longer, in some a little, in others a lot. The others like this one that you entered are as many as the stars in your galaxy with countless results.”An answer that guides me to the most important question I was saving for last…Why did he bring me and for what?“I have saved you from one of the many lines in which you die by falling down 2 floors or at the hands of Jambazi, since I have a proposal for you.I decide to step out of my capacity as an observer to influence this timeline to offer you the possibility of being the greatest writer of your era, giving you free access to my library. You will be able to read everything without restrictions and you will enjoy all the fortune in life unlike many great people in your world.”I am left speechless, I can barely size up such a proposal, but I am not gullible, since such a large offer has something equivalent or greater to have in return.“Indeed, there are conditions so that I can give you such permission.The conditions are the following, the first is that you must never tell anyone about our existence, as well as this place while you live, the second is that your descendants will become under my guardianship if you neglect their well-being.Failing any of the aesthetes will cause misfortune to follow your every step and your loved ones. A fair price for a life of luxury that can last for generations.Whether you accept or not, in both cases it is exclusively your decision.”2 guidelines that seem simple but with a great weight of being broken... Although the risk could be worth as much as my life.I have to think about it, great sir, it is not something I can decide lightly.“Perfectly reasonable, you don't need to return to my presence to know his answer, I always know what's going on in his head as you already know.Jambazi will return him to his world, I recommend staying calm, he doesn't like cowards very much."The mastodon from before?I get nervous just thinking about it.“With what mastodon, huh?”He paralyzed me when I heard that thick voice behind my back. I turn around hesitantly to find that imposing man like a large albino gorilla who could rip off my head at any moment.“You look like a baby goat facing a lion, just petrified with fear.”A perfect analogy for this situation.I can barely react when the masked guy grabs me by my clothes as if it were nothing. I'm even surprised that my clothes can support my weight like this.This man leads me hanging through the endless corridors while the smell of blood on his clothes makes me dizzy, the gloom of the place becomes increasingly dense as he advances.I open my eyes, I'm lying behind the old counter of the dusty store.I wake up quite disoriented, I want to believe that everything was a crazy nightmare. Heavy footsteps make me scream in fear, that guy is looking at me from the stairs, I can feel his death stare through the slanted eyes of his mask.I shiver as I grab my backpack from the counter, only to stumble away, trying not to turn my back on the guy.I'm outside, it's almost night. I see my reflection in one of the windows of the stores about to close.I got my blood in my eyes and face, when I tried to read the Akashiko records... this must be a fraction of the punishment for even seeing them.Now I just have to return home, I feel like my body will collapse at any moment.My parents will go crazy seeing me.Although... why did he choose me for such a proposal? And… who was that “talented young man” he mentioned?*A book sounds like it closes with a soft sigh like a soft autumn breeze*Dolika: The little ones are now resting their eyes. The story of how her father met the great lord always calms their minds.Nagghark: That is my dear creation. It's time for my children to rest, tomorrow I will tell you the rest of the story.*Dolika gently lifts twins from the soft folds of Nagghark's robes, a boy and a girl. Like silent specters withdraw from the great presence of the ancient being*Jambazi: Mr. Nagghark... not to question his misinformation, but... why did he want to have children?Even if that goat guy refused, I imagine he would insist with more people.Nagghark: It's curiosity what I notice in you, I don't dislike my young protégé.I have seen beings similar to me prowl humanity, most being hostile to them. But still some made the decision to take in infants or other tortured souls under their wings.Jambazi: Refers to the so-called “proxies” of thin beings. People were usually very… “fond” of them a few years ago.Even I could fall into that unusual category by serving you.Nagghark: That's correct, but in the case of my little ones I wanted to take the role of a father figure, like those rare cases of slenders who have done so.There is no greater reason than a mere whim.Jambazi: I think I understand... I accept your decision, master. If he allows me, I must leave now.Nagghark: Be careful, slender protégés are quite distrustful of others' proxies, even when you show that you are on their side.Jambazi: That's how it will be, teacher.*The man leaves the presence of the thin being, leaving him alone with his books*Nagghark: Having my actions revealed to mortals is a new experience.I hope this story entertained you, dear reader.

Mature Content

Forest Punishment (CREEPYPASTA ENGLISH)The wind shook the grass, a cold autumn breeze that seemed to whisper distant cries as it brushed across the rough moor of the Irish countryside where some young people prowl under the sky tinted gray by the heavy clouds. In this group there are 2 girls and 4 boys, 6 in total between 8 and 11 years old. One of the girls with reddish brown hair and olive eyes looked at the sky that seemed increasingly darker. Alana: The sky seems moody, the black clouds are increasingly prominent and the wind is getting worse, a storm wants to hit us. Cyan: Calm your studious tongue Alana, the rains are still far enough away to reach us. I assure you and the others that we will find the Rianos mansion before the bad weather hits. Replied the boy with blue eyes and light brown hair. Due to his height and confidence, he proved to be the oldest among those infants. Finbar: Trust our cousin Cyan more. That's why they always put him in charge when the family gets together on these dates. Alana: That decision is solely because he is a year and a quarter older than us, as the eldest of our family generation it is normal that a simple responsibility like this is imposed on him.The twins exchanged looks of disgust while the rest just sighed as they kept the weight off. The second oldest boy stepped forward a little next to the leader of the walk, speaking in a low but audible voice to his friend. Oscar: Friend... Do your cousins ​​always take family quarrels so literally? Cian: That pair is always in debate to compete, one always wants to be against the other, the truth is I find it laughable most of the time, but in others... they are like dealing with a bunch of goats in spring. Oscar: I can imagine it. But going to another topic... why is there a baby with us? He pointed his eyes at the 8-year-old boy who only gave him a disgusted grimace as he puffed out his cheeks. Nora: Because his parents wouldn't let Finbar go out to play if Alana didn't accompany him. Since it is not appropriate for a young lady to go out late with 3 men, even though they are family, I came as her friend, and they would not allow me to come if my brother Darren did not accompany me.Darren: I'm your responsibility now! The little boy replied, shaking his fist in the air while with the other he was held by his older sister. On the other hand, Alana nudges her brother and steps forward. Finbar: Ugh! How rough… Alana: In any case, could you repeat where exactly you were planning to go? Oscar: Let's go to the Ryan mansion, we mentioned it a moment ago. Nora: A mansion in this area? This is a county of small farmers, there are no rich people around here.Alana: Not currently, but elders occasionally report that a couple of centuries ago there was a larger town in this area. But it ceased to exist shortly after the famine resulting from an intense frost that hit much of Europe. Finbar: Yes, I have heard about the old town, but I think it is absurd that an entire town disappears due to a bad winter. Cyan: Part of that is true, my studious cousin. But there is something more behind it. Nora: My great-grandparents told me that there was a witch at that time. But she sounds somewhat implausible, she must have been just a lady who received a grudge from someone else. Oscar: That is only a small part of the stories that surround the Rianos mansion. When we arrive Cyan and I will tell you everything we found about it. While the adults moved their feet, absorbed in their conversation, entering the forest, little Darren managed to begin to notice traces of a stone path peeking out between the grass and dry tree leaves. The sound of the foliage being shaken by the increasingly cold breeze seemed to whisper something incomprehensible. No one noticed when the infant broke away from his sister's weak grip to walk along the blurred path that went deeper into the trees.The sound of their small steps was barely audible with the rustling of leaves on the treetops and the occasional noise of some insignificant bird or animal simply passing by on the periphery. As he moved forward he began to find stacked stones from old walls mixed with broken ceramic tiles and wooden beams so thick that when touched they would crumble like dry sand. The squeak of the chains of an old hanging sign of what seemed to be a grocery store echoed sporadically, surely the chain was so rusted that the links could barely move. The dead silence only made the child more and more anxious, as if every tiny noise anticipated something that would come out to attack from some corner. When he tries to back away out of nerves he ends up colliding with something or someone, he has no time to react when he is grabbed firmly, all he can do is scream as he tries to get away. Darren: AAH!!! Nora: Calm down! It's me, you fool, your sister. Oscar: Dude, that really was a lady's scream, it was heard all over the acre. Alana: Don't laugh, at his age you would react just as shamelessly.Finbar: That's why it's good that he starts to face fear, so he will be someone strong and brave like our cousin Cyan. Cyan: The people… The little boy calmed down when he found himself reunited with the others, the initial spirit quickly faded when everyone paid attention to the ruins. It was as if the place swallowed everything that was not silence. The children moved through the decaying remains of the town, seeing up close some things that caught their attention, the empty shells that once housed life so long ago. From discarded furniture, abandoned crockery, even old toys, all broken by the emotions of the years, rotted and swallowed by nature. A whole place whose presence made the words become a lump in the throat, the sensation of being stalked and eliminated when committing something reckless. Cyan: It's... It's better to move forward... If what we're investigating is correct, the mansion shouldn't be far away, you just have to follow the main road...The boy's words faltered, as if he could barely muster the courage to even say them. The rest did nothing but follow him in silence, not because of the will or curiosity to continue forward, but because of the anxiety of returning alone through that wasteland. They continued because the other did, although inside, each of them just wanted to escape and return home. As he continued along that stone path blurred by dirt and undergrowth, the wind behind him became increasingly icy like the growing darkness of the forest into which he was entering. The trees were much thicker and more imposing, the faint sunlight filtering through the black clouds barely touching them. The grinding of bark and rustling of leaves kept them alert to the distant sounds of native fauna watching over them in the distance. A rumble in the sky brought with it their tears, the storm that was waiting finally broke out over their heads. The density of the foliage did not help protect them from the water; on the contrary, the already heavy drops mixed among the waves, making them even larger. Darren: Rain! Alana: Oh damn, I told you the storm would catch up with us! Now we will get hopelessly sick.Nora: We have to return quickly. Oscar: Hey! I think she managed to see the mansion from here. Cyan: come on! It is better to take refuge there than to return with hypothermia. The 3 older boys rushed to the building, however, Finbar was stopped short by the collar of his shirt. Alana: Where do you think you're going pumpkin head? This is where the adventure ends. Finbar: They will still scold us if we return soaked, it is better to continue and return with the experience than sick and punished.Alana: Don't be absurd, Nora, Darren and I will return, then you will be the only one punished. Come on Nora. Nora: I'm afraid I have to prioritize my brother's well-being, I'm sorry Alana. Leaving the girl behind, the others rush to meet the rest. Alana is stunned for a moment, but a bolt of lightning near her scares her away. Realizing her loneliness, she has no choice but to join the group. With her hasty step she slips through the mud in front of the building, the imposing structure has undoubtedly seen better days, the elegant charm that it once carried has become ominous and gloomy. Although there wasn't much time to appreciate the architecture, she entered as quickly as she could to escape the water and meet the rest of her group. Once inside, the atmosphere was heavy and cold, as if death permeated every corner of the place, but at least everything was in better condition than outside, although the age was noticeable in every little thing. Cyan: … good. We're all here, let's explore a little. Of course, don't separate yourself too much, always stay within sight of someone else, if you want to investigate something in particular, go at least two by one. Alana: Finally you say something responsible... god...Their voices echoed through the hallways, the echo could almost be felt on your skin. Her uncomfortable feeling barely allowed Alana to reply as usual, her heart screamed to flee from there while her reason forced them to stay due to the bad weather. With no other option, they investigated through the large hallways, the squelching sound of her shoes overriding everything by leaving footprints on the relatively clean floor, although no one paid any attention. Prowling in a group through the dark corridors, the elders took out a pair of flashlights from their discreet backpacks, beyond the light dust, without cobwebs or signs of deterioration, the place seemed stranded in time, as static and cold as a dead person. Finbar: I thought this place would be even more finished than the town, but not even nature dared to touch it. Nora: …it's as if… this place is frozen by sadness… Oscar: You're not wrong in part. Cyan hurried a little until he got to the front and shone the light on an old painting, in which a trio of people were portrayed, a family of evidently upper class or very wealthy.Their voices echoed through the hallways, the echo could almost be felt on your skin. Her uncomfortable feeling barely allowed Alana to reply as usual, her heart screamed to flee from there while her reason forced them to stay due to the bad weather. With no other option, they investigated through the large hallways, the squelching sound of her shoes overriding everything by leaving footprints on the relatively clean floor, although no one paid any attention. Prowling in a group through the dark corridors, the elders took out a pair of flashlights from their discreet backpacks, beyond the light dust, without cobwebs or signs of deterioration, the place seemed stranded in time, as static and cold as a dead person. Finbar: I thought this place would be even more finished than the town, but not even nature dared to touch it. Nora: …it's as if… this place is frozen by sadness… Oscar: You're not wrong in part. Cyan hurried a little until he got to the front and shone the light on an old painting, in which a trio of people were portrayed, a family of evidently upper class or very wealthy.Alana: Is that the Rián family? Darren: The man doesn't seem very happy... Cyan: A part so to speak. He is the lord of the Ryan manor, his first wife and his first son. Alana: First wife? How much research did you do about it? Oscar: There wasn't much in the newspaper archive about it, only general records from that time and poorly preserved letters. It is not very unusual given that they date back just over two hundred years. Cian: But it was still interesting to reconstruct the events with the word-of-mouth stories that still circulate in the community. Nora: So, it's almost a legend at this point right? But given that it does have historical bases, it is so far from reality. Finbar: Tell the story now.Cian: According to what we find, Mr. Ryan was a skilled grain merchant in the 18th century, perhaps born in the early 1700s to 1710 or perhaps earlier. His first marriage was of exclusive convenience when he married the only daughter of a family with extensive farmland. Oscar: the most likely thing is that the marriage took place between 1720 and 1725, since from what I can see in this painting it dates from 1733... Which is a year before the woman's death. Alana: If she looks like she's at most 9 years old, it means she was born in 1724, therefore the wedding ceremony could have been at least a year before that. Finbar: Don't interrupt. Alana: You shut up, bootlicker! Finbar: Yes? Well you are- In dangerously close thunder he suddenly falls, shaking their hearts with fright, cutting off the brothers' absurd quarrel by forcing them to seek refuge in each other's arms. Without leaving the rest equally restless and trembling. Darren: t- that didn't sound good...Nora: At least we're relatively safe in here... But I get the impression that the storm will continue throughout the night. Darren: Mom will get angry and hit us with the spoon... Oscar: calm down, Cian and I will take responsibility for this. For now let's go back to history and find a place to rest. Alana: That's right... come on. The children, guided by the elders, continued walking through the hallways, various rooms of all kinds until they reached a large room with a fireplace, judging by the decoration and another portrait, it was the master bedroom. Making themselves comfortable with old pillows and blankets protected from dust, they lit the fireplace with old logs stored nearby. Finbar: It's really like the people here have just suddenly vanished, leaving everything behind. Alana: It's true, it's chilling. Oscar: let's continue with the story...Cyan: Well... It was rumored that the marriage was going badly. The woman was quite narcissistic and the man was too absorbed in her work, which is why they tended to leave the child somewhat forgotten. Oscar: He grew up believing that he would have his inheritance assured since, with his mother's fertile lands and his father's businesses, they quickly became richer and richer. With the little attention they gave him, it was to be expected that money and status made his head inflame. Although things changed quickly after that painting. Ción: In 1734 the first wife died, the official report stated that it was a cart accident, although the letters from the gossips of the time speculate that it could have been the work of Mr. Rína to keep the land since he remarried shortly. after. At the end of that same year when the incident was mid. Oscar: Maybe he was a man very much in love or he already had that woman as a lover before, only he and heaven knew that. But just because of that and a couple of other things, he made people give her the reputation of being a witch. From this second marriage a second child emerged a few months later, hence the rumor that they had been lovers for some time. Cian: While the witch was alive, the lands were even more productive, so they were able to sell grain to much of Europe, so her wealth rose to heaven. Oscar: That lady rarely left the Rián mansion, but she was said to be supernaturally beautiful, men compared her to an angel or a fairy. So it is not surprising that those who are jealous of her will accuse her of being a witch out of envy. Although on the other hand the second child... was a peculiar case, it was said that she began to talk and walk much earlier than other babies, and with that she also learned to read and write earlier. Cian: That's why he was marked as a prodigy. But that brought a problem, rumors began to circulate that the youngest son would become a more suitable heir than his older brother. Alana: Let me guess... The oldest decided to eliminate the child...Cian: Yes it seems that way. When Mr. Rián was away on business, the witch and her son suddenly fell seriously ill. Her mother died in December 1739, just when the great frost of that century began, which was nicknamed “the little ice age.” With that the rumor of the witch was consolidated. It was believed that before she died she cursed all of Europe. Oscar: With the wealth they accumulated they were able to afford decent food when Mr. Rián returned, but that brought the envy of the villagers, they stole and assaulted the shipments, but the man did not care much. The most skeptical believed that his loss devastated him deeply, while the superstitious claimed that the deceased's spell melted his brain. After that there is not much information left until her death shortly before the frost ended. Finbar: What happened to the children? Cian: Letters from the servants mention that the man alone locked himself away for a long time, but that the unbearable behavior of the first son worsened while the youngest donated the food he could to the rest of the town, which is why he began to have a good reputation and be appreciated. for the community. Oscar: As you already imagined... Alana: If the poison didn't work, all that's left to do is use metal... Nora: How horrible… But wasn't it obvious that he would be caught for committing such a crime? Cian: Yes, that's right, but here's the detail. While we were investigating we found out by chance that many people developed psychotic breaks out of nowhere after eating grain infected with Prometheus fungi from Spain. When compared to the shipment records we found that they revived a small shipment of that same infected lot near the end of those dates.Oscar: Therefore, we believe that the fungi present in the cereals caused a brain infection in the boy, which drove him crazy. Alana: Dementia has no consequences, so I just execute the minor in a psychotic break? Oscar: Yes. The mansion's employees witnessed when the eldest lost his mind, practically slit his father's throat, attacked some of the employees before going after his younger brother and mutilating him to the point of exhaustion. Thus they arrested him, but not before leaving the little boy almost unrecognizable. Ción: Given the testimonies, the resentment of the people and that in the end he was charged with at least 3 victims without counting the witch, he was sentenced to death in September 1741. Oscar: Just the date when the little ice age ended. But this is where things get… weird. Nora: Weird in what way? Cian: well... the best preserved letters and records are from the day of the execution. Somewhat paraphrasing, but everything happened more or less like this. That morning the animals began to act strange, but many tried to pay more attention to the man and the execution that would occur at noon. The sentence, guillotine. Oscar: As soon as they took the evil bastard out of the cell and dragged him to the center of town, the animals simply attacked the people, they didn't kill anyone, they just separated the guy from everyone, leaving a path in the middle of the main street.Cyan: It was said that a wolf cub with intense turquoise eyes came out of the grove that overlooked the mansion and walked down the street, as if the other animals were escorting him. When he stopped the condemned man he became the little dead man, but now he had animal ears. Oscar: “Blood for blood, the expenditure of the earth must not cease until that heart guilty of its rage stops beating” is what he is reported to have said before the forest animals set out to devour the subject alive. Cyan: People could only watch in terror while some simply fled in terror. Then the boy turned into a crow and perched on the guillotine and addressing the crowd he exclaimed. “From now on this is no longer the land of man, they must resign themselves and march south, because from now on this is the land of the great mother and the fairies, since the blood of their benefactor Púca now stains their palms that cry with greed." Alama: It sounds forceful… but implausible. A child reduced to a piece of meat returns from the dead as a polymorph?... The girl showed a face of disbelief as she rested her chin on her hand after settling down between the blankets and pillows next to her brother. Finbar: Don't cut the story. Although… if there is a point, there must be a reason behind it that explains it. Oscar: It could well have been a collective hallucination due to more infected grain, perhaps just hysteria or that the mother was a witch. At this point only God and the devil know. Anyway... we have to sleep. Everyone settled down after putting some large beds in that fireplace, sure that they would keep burning all night or until the storm stopped, sure that everything would be fine. A few hours passed, if it weren't for the dense and heavy clouds, a beautiful full moon could be dazzled high in the sky. But at least, the water lowers its intensity.While May, Cyan slept somewhat uncomfortably, an ominous shadow hovered over him, as well as a small hand that approached his face. Purely on instinct, the young man woke up with a start when he grabbed the hand. It was little Darren, who seemed even more scared by the sudden movement. The boy released the little one to look tiredly at his eyes and compose himself, he addressed him in a low voice so as not to disturb the rest between yawns. Cian: Darren... what are you doing awake?... Darren: I-I... I want to pee... Cian: e… well… maybe you can't go alone. Come on. After a sigh they leave the nest they made to sleep, being careful not to wake the rest, they went out the door after a small squeak, which, apparently, did not bother anyone. They turned on one of the flashlights after leaving the fireplace lighting behind, Cyan initially thought of looking for a quick bath after seeing the fearful little boy clinging to his clothes. Or at least until a doubt lit up his head, “did they even have toilets in the 18th century?” That they didn't just bathe once a week even?” Trying not to think about disgusting things, I look for a back exit, the ones that the servants used to use to get in and out quickly to do their jobs. And sure enough, they found one as they passed through the large, empty kitchen. Although the door was moldy and worn, there didn't seem to be much of a problem when they opened it. It was almost as dark outside, but the cold was even more intense. They walked a little along the porch, the wooden roof was quite rotten and with several parts already eaten away, allowing water to pass through at the same time that climbing plants hung from the holes. Although Darren did not fully understand why they had not gone to the bathroom yet, he only had to urinate standing on one of the floors since the terror he felt did not allow him to protest or ask. With a gesture he indicated to his eldest not to look, something he easily accepted, so he limited himself to shining the light on the trees, seeing the shadows cast. After finishing, a sound among the bushes and grass puts them on alert, before they can react a small, hairy creature comes out of the darkness, a baby hare that approached with curiosity. The animal seemed docile and let little Darren carry it, but as soon as Cyan tried to even touch it, it bit him and ran away. For some reason the little boy went after the animal in the rain that was no longer more than a light drizzle.Darren: Hey, come back! Cyan: Not Darren! There are worse animals here! Inside the mansion Cyan shakes the sleeping boys to wake them up. A couple of shocks from the sudden rough contact along with an alarmed voice. Cyan: Wake up, come on! Darren's not here! Nora: WHAT?!! WHERE DID HE GO? Finbar: We have to look for it! What if one of the ghosts of the Rián family took it?! A sharp blow to the back of Finbar's head leaves him stunned for a moment. Alana: Don't be ridiculous brother! The real concern is that an animal will eat it! Nora: STOP YOUR STUPID FIGHTS AT ONCE! I MUST FIND DARREN NOW!!! Oscar: We'll do it right now, but you and I will stay here while you calm down, you can't go out hysterical or something worse could happen, and he'll still probably come back on his own. Cyan: The twins and I will search the forest. If we go like birds, maintaining visual contact, we will cover more ground. Alana: It's a good plan. Don't worry, we'll all go home. Nora: …okay… okay…The girl squeezed her friend's hands in an attempt to comfort her and calm her panic. After releasing her, the groups also separated, leaving the pair behind next to the still-lit fireplace. Cyan and the brothers left through the main entrance, each with a flashlight in their hands, and advanced through the thick forest, dark and humid due to the still persistent rain. Further and further apart until they could barely see each other with the flashlights, nervous with the noises around them. Alana was the most alert, the small sounds kept her eyes looking for the missing child, but a dry sound almost gave her a heart attack. Lighting up with my heart in my mouth and a shaky grip, I can't help but breathe a sigh of relief upon realizing that she was nothing more than a young deer grazing. But when she turned around, she couldn't find the light of Cyan's or Finbar's flashlights again. KRAAAK~ The lightning and thunder return along with the storm that returns relentlessly, and with the light of that incandescent lightning, Alana managed to see all the animals in the forest that were staring at her in a threatening manner. Tlap tlap tlap, wet footsteps echo through the hallways of the mansion. They laugh, Cyan carries little Darren on his wet back, tired and disgusted. Cyan: Oh god... you seriously had to go out after the rabbit in the middle of the rain, and to make matters worse the storm returned when we were far away... Darren: sorry... I wanted the others to see the blue-eyed rabbit... Cyan: Blue eyes?... you must have seen wrong, rabbits don't have blue eyes. Black, brown, red, gray maybe, but not blue. Darren: I know what I saw, they were blue. Cyan: whatever you say...Sighing, fed up with the situation and tiredness, he walks at a heavy pace looking for his way back. When he finally catches sight of the light from the fireplace he takes the little one off his back. When he started the door ajar expecting to find the rest huddled in the nest, he only found a grotesque scene when he found his friend Oscar and Nora dead, both seemed to have been victims of a wild animal full of bites and deep cuts in the skin as well as some parts missing, possibly devoured. Cyan: Oh blessed Jesus Christ… Darren: AAH!!! The boy grabbed the little boy who clung to him in horror at such a massacre. But they didn't have time to even process what their eyes were showing them, because a wet sound approached them. Turning around still in shock, they came across a large bear standing, the light of lightning filtered through the dirty windows revealing the blood that stained its brown fur. Cyan immediately covered Darren's mouth, who still did not notice the beast. Trembling but firm, he backed slowly down the hallway, trying to whisper to the little boy to follow him. The bear stood on its hind legs and let out a loud roar. In a burst, Cyan grabbed the boy by the hand and ran into one of the other rooms. In the short time that the bear lunged at them, the boy closed his leg to block it with all the old furniture that he was able to move with that hysterical force that only adrenaline gives. Track track! The bear was banging on the door, making the furniture move back. Without wasting any time, the children carefully climbed out of the window and ran blindly in the middle of the raging rain in the direction of the old town. It no longer mattered if the twins were alive or dead, they only thought about surviving. AAAAH! A heartbreaking scream was heard ahead, even though they were lost, they had only to follow it, they quickly came across a light, it was a flashlight held with difficulty by Finbar who was also trying to carry his very badly injured sister. Cyan: Finbar! What happened to Alana?! Finbar: A bear! A bear attacked them while we were sleeping! ...she killed Nora and Oscar... I was only able to get my sister out! ...she is alive but unconscious, she lost a lot of blood! Cyan: We must go back now, I'll carry Alana, you keep Darren with you. This will be easier. Finbar: …y-yes…While Finbar seemed to try to hold back his tears as he placed the girl's body on Cyan's back, Darren could barely begin to sob as he grabbed the apparent Finbar's bloody hand. It wasn't until several minutes later when that boy noticed that his cousin's body was too cold, he wasn't even bleeding or feeling her pulse. He stopped to tell his cousin the bad news, but before turning around he didn't even hear Darren scream. Turning instinctively, he barely reacted when a wolf jumped in his face, destroying his windpipe with a single bite. Now there was only that little boy who looked terrified as the life of his eldest was taken away by that creature, who after releasing Cyan's bleeding neck, returned to his real form. That of a boy a little bigger than him with blue-green eyes, orange hair and animal ears, who only returned an irritated look. ?: Hear well little offspring of man... I allow you to spend your last days with your people, but you must spread my warning... Anyone who has the audacity to disturb my mother's lands will only find the lady dead... With those words, a squirrel jumped out of the bushes and bit the little boy's leg, who could only run screaming in panic. He no longer thought, he didn't know where to go, he just wanted to get out of that forest plagued with death. By the time the sun rose, he found the little boy lying in the streets almost frozen and taken to a hospital where he tried to be treated for pneumonia, unaware that rabies was beginning to infect his body. It didn't take long for the authorities to find his parents, who immediately cried with the only one of their children who had at least returned. Despite the doctors' attempts, the boy only survived a couple of weeks and all he could say was always the same sentences. "Away from the northern forests… away from Rianos Manor… The people of man do not deserve the lands of the fairies.”
Lunging from the GraveIn the early morning darkness of West Virginia, a man was flattening sod onto a freshly-made burial mound. He had been at it since parking his rental truck hours earlier, yet he could see a sliver of the sun's light over the horizon, signaling that time was running out. As he stood back up, Jay stretched his worn-out muscles, wiped the thick paste of sweat off his face, and surveyed his work.Oh, thank God, I put the sod on right," Jay sighed with relief. Stepping away from his work, he started to walk back to the truck, ready to head home. Part of him wanted to collapse in the front seat and sleep for several hours, maybe even the entire day. However, he knew that the moment he relaxed, he would accumulate new problems. A patrolling police officer could catch him loitering, or some mythical do-gooder could show up thinking he was in distress, or worse, the mound could collapse, making him have to rework the entire thing. He groaned at the thought of having to fix and reshape it again. He reached into his pockets only to find nothing. "I just want to go back and sleep. I swear, if it's in the mound, I'm just walking back to the house. The rental company can deal with it!" Jay sighed, rubbing his face as he returned to the mound. As he walked around, a faint sound caught his attention. He moved closer, wondering if the mound's support beams were collapsing under its weight. As he got closer, he froze. It was barely audible, but he could hear the faint sound of something digging. Startled, he began backing away when a faint glint caught his eye. Looking closer, he saw the teeth end of the truck's keys. Taking several deep breaths, he reached for them. He tries to yank the keys away, only to find them stuck. Annoyed, he pulls harder, jiggling and twisting the keys, hoping they'll come loose or the keychain would break. "Please, I just want to leave!" he yells, no longer concerned if someone heard him. With one last forceful pull, he frees the keys. His relief was short-lived as he noticed a gloved hand emerge from the new sod. Seeing the hand, Jay knew that he didn't want to see the rest of them surface from the ground. He raced for the truck, nearly tripping over unseen rocks. Slamming the door shut, Jay looks out the side window to see the figure of the fencer rise from the ground and slowly turn toward him. He had already seen the body, having wrapped it with some cheap tarp before sliding it into the back of the truck. But he had been too focused on his work, not fully comprehending what The Fencer looked like until now. Dressed in a bloodstained but standard fencing outfit, he could pass as a regular fencer on his way to a match as long as no one saw his face. The protective part of the headgear had been destroyed, with only some twisted remnants of the wire mesh framing The Fencer's ghoulish face. It looked like someone had cut away his skin, revealing the wet, irritated muscle beneath. His unseeing eyes bulged from his skull, and Jay could see its picket fence-like teeth. Jay shivered and turned away to start the car, not watching as the undead fencer lunged at him with a drawn sword. Even though it was a fencing epee, The Fencer managed to stab through the truck's door and slice into Jay's leg. Startled, Jay slammed on the gas pedal, driving straight ahead. The epee didn't snap as it scraped the truck's side with a loud metallic screech. Jay winced and swerved onto the road, finally dislodging the embedded sword. He chuckled nervously, feeling both terrified and relieved.The entire trip back was filled with fatigue, anxiety, and dread. Occasionally, Jay would see something darting behind the car, only to find nothing there. After a while, he stopped looking, too exhausted to jump at what was probably a passing deer. The sight of the town's more rundown section was a welcoming sight, helping Jay calm down. "Almost th-"Jay began to mutter but was interrupted by a loud thump in the truck's bed. He turned just in time to see a fencing boot shoot out of sight. Before he could react, the blade of The Fencer's epee pierced the car's roof, nearly blinding him. In a panic, he pressed the accelerator, too blinded by fear to notice the large tree ahead of him. As he crashed into the old oak, he heard a loud snap followed by a dull thud as something dropped to the ground. However, he didn't see any of it, his face buried into the steering wheel. "What the hell do you think you're doing?" Someone screamed. Lifting his head, Jay realized his vision was blurred by blood. Wiping it away, he can see his landlord standing in front of him, a paper bag and a shattered bottle of whiskey lying at his feet. Further behind him was the body of the fencer, slowly starting to get back up. Startled, Jay coughed, spraying blood onto the dashboard. "Frazer?! That's it, I'm evicting your scrawny as-," Cromwell shouted just as the fencer rose to his feet. Jay tried to say something, but the words refused to come out. Cromwell's rant continued, only ending when the saber pierced his chest. Jay watched as Cromwell's enraged eyes jumped to confusion, dissolved into stunned terror, and finally erupted into anger again. “You little shit!” Campbell screamed, spinning around as he tried to hit The Fencer with the half-broken bottle. The undead fencer dodged the wild swing and expertly moved closer to Campbell, driving the sword again into the man’s chest. From the angry, pained grunts and the continuous wild swings, Jay could tell that Campbell was still enraged. However, Campbell soon started to slow down from his wounds and was repeatedly stabbed.Unable to watch any longer, Jay turned his attention to his phone and texted 911, hoping they would take his message seriously and send help. Looking back up, he saw Campbell collapse onto the sidewalk, The Fencer towering over the middle-aged man. Jay could faintly hear Campbell gargle out obscenities through the mouthful of blood. In the meantime, The Fencer just watched, seemingly waiting for something to happen.Jay let out a shaky breath, drawing The Fencer's unnerving gaze. Thinking quickly, Jay set an alarm on his phone and chucked it out the passenger side’s broken window. It didn’t go far, but The Fencer instantly turned to face where it landed just as the timer went off. The Fencer immediately lunged towards it and stabbed at it, destroying it. Once Jay’s phone became nothing but a small pile of metal and plastic, The Fencer surveyed the area for anyone else. It was only a few minutes, but it felt like hours to Jay as he kept dipping in and out of consciousness. Finally, The Fencer began to walk away, towards destinations unknown.Jay silently watched as the fencer stalked off into the receding night, disappearing behind some rundown buildings. The silence was deafening as if the slightest sound would resummon the undead fencer. Slowly, Jay opened the driver's door, wincing as it let out a faint squeak. Once the door was fully opened, he hesitated and checked for any signs of The Fencer. Thankfully, he could find none. Campbell groaned, causing Jay to glare at the man. He understood the older man couldn't help it, but the noise could easily attract unwanted attention. After frantically searching and finding no signs of the slasher returning, Jay left the safety of the truck and crouched next to Mr. Campbell. He pulled off his dirt and sweat-encrusted hoodie, pressing its interior against the older man's stab wounds."I know it's hard, but focus on your breathing. The ambulance will be here soon." Jay calmly said, his voice cracking as he tried to hold back his fear. Mr. Campbell looked up at him in shock. Whether it was from the multiple stab wounds or that the man he wanted to evict was helping him, Jay wasn't sure. He kept looking around, half-expecting that it was a trap and the slasher would strike again. His tension only eased when he managed to spot the distant lights of the approaching ambulance. As he surveyed the area once more, he noticed The Fencer's face peeking from a dimly lit alley across the street. The two locked eyes, each waiting for the other to act. It wasn't until the ambulance arrived, bathing the scene in its flashing blue and red lights, that The Fencer finally moved. He gave Jay one of the most chilling smiles he had ever seen before slipping back into the shadows, leaving with them....
Fanart - Pokepasta
Creepypasta BRVR Pokemon Dead Channel (Pikachu) by StasyTheKiller
Pokemon Lost silver - Celebi used Perish Song by NitrusBrio68
With Every Move, I Die by tonyboyy
Fanart - Creepypasta
Boo by RuzaBlood
[ creepypasta: what a lovely smile! ] by m5w
[ creepypasta: oh this one? he's mine ] by m5w
DWOAH: Ghostface vs Ticci TobyDeadliest warriors of all historyGhostface vs Ticci TobyWhat’s your favourite scary story? Ghostface info: Height: 6 footWeight: 177lbsWeapons: Buck 120 Knife, Glock 17 PistolArmour: Bulletproof Vest Strengths: Is one of the most iconic Slashers in all of horror movie history, Peak human strength (Is able to manhandle and overpower most of his victims, Can punch hard enough to send people flying, Can stab through thick wooden doors, Can punch through double paned glass), Peak human durability (Smashed his own head through double paned glass, Took a full shock of a defibrillator to the head and remained conscious, Powered through being shot multiple times without his Bulletproof Vest, Survived being stabbed multiple times), Peak human speed/hypersonic reactions (Is able to effortlessly evade capture, Managed to dodge a near point blank Shotgun blast), Is a master of stealth, Is a master of manipulation.Weaknesses: Has a tendency to monologue and leave himself open, Fights as a wild Slasher so someone with genuine fighting skills can overcome him, One good headshot can take him down.Ticci Toby info:Height: 5 foot 8Weight: 139lbsWeapons: Hatchets, Kitchen KnifeStrengths: Is one of the most famous Creepypasta characters along with one of the most famous of Slenderman’s Proxies, Peak human strength (Is able to carve through bone with his Hatchets, Beat down Laughing Jack and it took Jeff the Killer, Hoodie, Masky and Eyeless Jack to fully restrain him, Aided in restraining Zalgo), Peak human durability (Was born with the inability to feel pain allowing him to tank any wound that doesn’t outright kill or cripple him, Survived the car crash that killed his sister), Peak human speed (Can effortlessly evade capture, Is stated to be faster than Jeff the Killer), Is a master of stealth.Weaknesses: Slenderman deciding if Toby lives or dies counts as outside assistance and will be removed for this battle, Along with Jeff the Killer Toby can be considered one of the weakest Creepypasta characters, Works better as part of a team than by himself, His inability to feel pain does not mean he is immune to damage and it can actually work against him as he be completely unaware that he has suffered a life threatening wound until its too late.Battle begin!Once again the streets of Woodsboro ran red with blood but this time a different Killer was painting the town with shades of arterial crimson, a masked teenager standing over the corpses of two freshly killed young men with their blood dripping from his Hatchets, two drunken frat boys who had made the fatal mistake of bumping into Toby and at first mocking his mask and then when he bit back, mocking his stutter.“W-w-w-who’s laughing n-now?!” the Proxy snapped before turning his head to the sound of a phone ringing, looking down the street to see a payphone booth where the ringing was coming from.Glancing around to find he was completely alone in the street Toby then shrugged and made his way over to the payphone, picking up the receiver and bringing it to his ear “h-hello?”.“What’s your favourite scary movie?”.“W-w-who is t-this?” the Proxy stuttered back, his blood pressure rising as he only heard a dark chuckle in response immediately believing it was mocking his tick.“Turn around” the voice instructed to which Toby complied, turning around to look at the house across from the payphone booth and in its living room window he caught sight of a man in what looked like jet black robes with a stark white mask, the figure holding the houses phone to his ear showing that he was in fact the one calling whilst mockingly waving at the Proxy with his Knife “let’s play”.Ripping the phone from its cord to hang up Toby growled in annoyance before drawing both of his Hatchets and marching towards the house, kicking the door wide open and swiping his Hatchets at the air in case Ghostface was hiding behind it.As his Hatchets whiffed through the air Toby stumbled from the momentum of his whiffed attack, quickly righting himself only to recoil hard as a gunshot tore through the air, a bullet slamming into his shoulder making him stumble back against the wall behind him as Ghostface revealed himself holding the smoking Pistol.Looking at his now wounded shoulder the Proxy only growled in annoyance, his inability to feel pain allowing him to power through what should have been a crippling shot to run at Ghostface with his Hatchets raised and ready, making Ghostface curse onto his breath as he ducked out of the way of Toby’s charge, causing him to slam his Hatchet’s into the living room wall whilst the robed Killer holstered his Pistol and drew his Knife.As Toby struggled to pull his Hatchet’s out of the wall Ghostface readied his Knife and swung it hard in a backwards stabbing swing, Toby just managing to pull away in time to duck under the Knife swing causing the robed Killer to jam his Weapon into the wall instead, making him curse again as he ripped the Knife out with great ease than Toby did his own Weapons and began wildly swinging at the younger Murderer.Bobbing and weaving around every slash and stab from Ghostface Toby ducked under another slash to drive his right Hatchet into Ghostface’s chest but instead of feeling the familiar tearing of flesh and breaking of bone behind the Blade of his Hatchet he only met resistance and a dull ‘thunk’ of tough material showing that he was wearing protection under his robes.“Nice try fucker” Ghostface growled as he took the chance to plunge his Knife into Toby’s stomach before harshly kicking him away, sending him staggering back before he fell and rolled backwards through the doorway between the living room and the kitchen as Ghostface marched after him.With blood pouring down from his abdomen Toby scrambled up to his feet before hurling his right Hatchet across the room at Ghostface, the robed Slasher simply turning to watch the Hatchet fly through the air to stick in the living room wall again as Toby continued scrambling back, his now free hand clambering around on the kitchen counter until he grabbed hold of a Kitchen Knife to dual wield it with his remaining Hatchet.“Y-y-you b-bastard! I’ll t-tear off your f-f-fucking head!” the Proxy screamed, losing his temper as he then launched himself at Ghostface, managing to cut across the taller Killer’s arm as he tried to backstep away drawing blood before swinging wildly with his remaining Hatchet, hitting Ghostface across the chest again only to hear the infuriating ‘thunk!’ again.“W-w-will you now?!” Ghostface mocked back as he grabbed Tony by the hood of his hoodie, using it to whirl him around with the Proxy wildly thrashing in his grasp, Ghostface spinning him around in an almost jaunty manner until Toby managed to reach his leg with his Knife stabbing him deep in the thigh “ah! Little shit!” the robed Killer exclaimed, throwing Toby across the room in anger before leaning down to check on his leg.Finding the bleeding to be both manageable and negligible, Ghostface turned his attention to where he had thrown Toby only to find him gone “so it’s hide and seek is it?” he commented as he redrew his Pistol, holding it in his left hand as he then began to prowl through the house hunting for the Proxy “come out, come out”.Lurking through the house checking through every doorway of the first floor with his Pistol the robed Killer then made his way upstairs, his Knife and Pistol ready as he reached the top step only for Toby to jump out from around the corner and slash Ghostface across the head with his Hatchet, his mask taking most of the damage from the blow before Toby then drove his Kitchen Knife into his chest as he was recoiling from the blow to the head, the Knife managing to pierce through the protective Vest underneath his robes to narrowly stab into the taller Killers chest whilst the Vest stopped most of the Knife.Ripping the Knife out Toby then kicked Ghostface back down the stairs, sending him tumbling back down to the first floor where he landed in a heap, groaning from his head slamming against the floor when he hit the final step.As Ghostface heaved himself up Toby thundered down the stairs, his Knife and Hatchet ready to carve and slash into the robed Killer when Ghostface suddenly raised his Pistol and fired, planting a bullet in Toby’s ankle and whilst he couldn’t feel the pain it still caused him to lose his footing and fall down the stairs himself, sending him slamming to the floor as Ghostface rose to his feet and staggered away.Upon forcing himself up onto his shaking feet and ruined ankle Toby found that Ghostface was now out of sight, as if mocking him again by using his own tactics against him making his blood boil again, the Proxy beginning to stagger forward to search for his opponent when the house phone began to ring.At first Toby ignored the annoying ringing as he searched through the house for Ghostface but with each passing moment it was as if each ring got progressively louder than the last, pressing on his last frayed nerve more and more until it snapped, the Proxy grabbing the phone and ripping it off its receiver to bring it to his ear “FUCKING W-W-WHAT?!”.“Turn around”.Whirling around preparing to swing his Hatchet all Toby saw in response was a flash of metal and a flurry of black before he felt something slam against the right side of his head where the phone was, his vision momentarily going blurry before to his shock the vision on his right side slowly faded to black rendering him half blind.Confused and further angered Toby moved to drop the phone only to realise that he couldn’t move his right hand at all, Ghostface having stabbed his Knife straight through the Proxy’s hand, through the phone and straight into his skull to pierce the right side of his brain, the effects quickly taking effect as Toby felt his body rapidly weakening and his balance beginning to waver as Ghostface simply raised his Pistol to aim at his face.“Nice try kid” the robed Killer uttered before pulling the trigger, planting a bullet right between the Proxy’s eyes to paint the wall behind him with his brains, Toby standing there for a couple of seconds before his body ‘caught up’ causing it to fall back to land lifelessly on the floor.Winner: GhostfaceWelp, it looks like for Halloween this year the CreepyPasta losing streak continues.But why does Ghostface beat Ticci Toby?Well comparing both of them both are incredibly equal in most ways if not Toby taking the slight edge in strength and his inability to feel pain arguably adding to his durability but what gave Ghostface the edge was the fact that in a fight Toby works far better as a team player than on his own whilst, yes there is always another Killer when it comes to Ghostface, on his own the Woodsboro Slasher exceeds Toby abilities to fight and kill granting him the close victory for this years Halloween special.
OC Art and References
Future (Art-Trade) by XSugarPlumWitchX
No... by RuzaBlood
Hush! by XSugarPlumWitchX
Metamorphe, technical sheet by FateDimoni
Visual Pokepasta
The Soulless Pokemon by Inkin-Oddity
Gold's Corruption by Inkin-Oddity
Wobbuffet by SoupAndButter

Mature Content

Psychotic by VegetarianJackal
Visual Creepypasta
Penpal by Avargus
For fandom the whole truth about Stasy The Killer Nowadays, in the Russian fandom creepypasta, everyone is actively discussing the girl who has nickname StasyTheKiller and her character named as well. Everyone is just fixated on 2016, when she fought for Nina, everyone is just fixated on 2017-2018, when she spread incredible facts about Jeff the kiler and everyone is angry at her for allegedly creating a fan-girl-oc for him in 2019, but is it really so? Guys, Stasy has been a fan-girl of Jeff for many, many years! You are obsessed with the years when StasyTheKiller was noticed by most of you (her popularity started to grow in 2016), but do you think that her character is new?It was worth starting with the fact that I personally communicated with the creator of Stasy for some time! I'm her classmate, we studied together from the first grade, but later (I don't remember, maybe in the 7th or 8th grade) I changed schools and we continued to communicate in VK. In 2014, I left the fandom, but recently I accidentally asked her ”do you still love creepypasta?". And StasyTheKiller told me everything that happened to her from 2015 to this day. My jaw dropped in shock!!! You all know that she translated a lot, wrote a lot, made friends with many people and quarreled, so let's skip this topic. I want to tell you about what happened when we were still in the same class with her (namely, her fascination with horror in the period from 2011 to 2014)So. From the first to the fourth grade, she was a simple girl, loved all sorts of girly cartoons (I remember in 2007-2010 were very popular “Winx club” Xd). But when StasyTheKiller came to the fifth grade, she talked more and more about cartoons like “Monster High”, “Corpse Bride”, and all sorts of emo and goth. I didn't see a pretty girl anymore. She was very modest, didn't talk to many people in class, everyone was used to the fact that this kind and naive child loves cartoons about fairies and other nonsense, so no one except me and a couple of people in the class didn’t know that StasyTheKiller was really into horror. Why am I writing this? Yes, because just in the fall of 2011, the popular story of Jeff the killer was written. Already in November, we noticed that StasyTheKiller started making some strange jokes about death and all sorts of nonsense. There was another boy in our class named Matvey. He became obsessed with Slenderman so much that by the spring of the following year he had reached hallucinations, he was taken to a psychologist, and fortunately he was cured. Creepypasta was at the peak of popularity at the time, and many guys throughout the school were really obsessed. Back to StasyTheKiller. She felt sorry for Matvey and I warned her that it would be better if she got involved with something other than Jeff, otherwise it might end badly. But that was the beginning, my friends.And now an important point: in DECEMBER 2011, STK CREATED STASY THE KILLER!1 ) We were kids and didn't know much English (we were 10-11 years old, we only learned the English alphabet a couple of years ago), so this explains the error in the character's name. But later she liked this writing and she began to specifically register in all social networks just like that (but this is already 2016)2 ) unlike Nina's creator, the author of Stasy didn’t register for any foreign sites (DeviantArt, Facebook, Twitter, etc.) at that time, and in Russia, she also didn’t talk to anyone in the comments, groups, so no one knew about her character. 3 ) art with Stasy Was first published in mid-December 2011. StasyTheKiller published it on her real page (the real page is the one where her real name and surname is, she communicates there with classmates, not with people from the fandom).In fact, Nina and Stasy were created almost simultaneously, but the only difference is that Alegotica12 immediately ran to publish Nina's story, created an account on DeviantArt in 2012 and instantly became famous while StasyTheKiller sat quietly and told only a few people from the class about Stasy. But the fact remains - the character is NOT NEW, and if you didn't know about her, it's not my problem. Stasy the killer was a fan of Jeff Woods for just a couple of weeks. In late 2011 or early 2012, StasyTheKiller found out about Jeff's canon and started watching the sesseur’s profile (which was created not so long ago at the time - July 25, 2011). At first, she couldn’t understand much, but then she learned that the story of Woods was written in 2011 (and at that time he didn’t even have a surname), and as a character, Jeff the killer has existed since 2008. Then she decided to fix something in her character. In the end of 2011, StasyTheKiller said that she was tired of the Jeff that burned, and she was interested in the Jeff that was doused with acid. None of the Jeffs had a surname at the time. "Jeff 2011" got the surname "Woods" in 2012 thanks to the story of Homicidal Liu, "Jeff 2008" also got the surname "Hodek" sometime in 2011 or 2012. StasyTheKiller continued just to read other people's stories and sometimes drew Stasy the killer. And for many years, her character also didn’t have a last name (the surname "Blackwood" appeared only in the spring of 2019, until this point it was just Stasy the killer) In the spring of 2015, StasyTheKiller wanted to compose a fan fiction. She knew Jeff's canon, Stasy was a Hodek fan, but in those days, her creator liked Woods more. StasyTheKiller wrote her first pretty cute fan fiction. I found the very first publication of that fan fiction (but there she calls her heroine Nastya, not Stasy, although there is no difference, because the full name sounds like Anastasia in both cases). now you are probably waiting for a link with the first publication of art with Stasy the killer. But I will disappoint you.1 )As I said, she was a Woods’ fan-girl for only a couple of weeks (mid-to-late December 2011) and was portrayed as a girl in a white hoodie and black jeans. When she became a Hodek’s fan-girl (December 2011 or January 2012), StasyTheKiller portrayed her as a girl in a gray skirt, black and pink socks, and a red HOODIE! Also Stasy was an emo girl with black hair and a pink line in her hair! But StasyTheKiller got involved with Woods again in 2015 and wrote those fan fictions. And then, in 2017, already almost an adult 16-year-old StasyTheKiller, decided not just to study the canon of Jeff, but also to distribute it in the Russian fandom. She abandoned her character for almost a year and spent all of 2018 fighting for Jeff's canon. And now, in 2019, she rewrote the story of Stasy the killer, !changed the red hoodie to a shirt!, and also !made Stasy a blonde, because Jeff Hodek became a blonde in 2016, she also added a blue strand of hair, because blue is Hodek's favorite color!, and this was also mentioned in the story of Stasy the killer. Also, StasyTheKiller mentioned in her Ref that this character is from 2015 and there she meant the fan fiction written in the spring of 2015!, the character was created in 2011. Also in that Ref there is a certain Stasy with brown hair and a scar on her face, but this is a separate story about how in March 2019 StasyTheKiller reconciled with the haters and they tried to help her update her emo girl... but they betrayed her. StasyTheKiller removed that remake and returned to the old version, changing the hair color and replacing the red hoodie with a shirt. 2 ) Family conflict - the reason why all the evidence and the first publications of Stasy the killer were deleted. Mother of StasyTheKiller didn't know that creepypasta is a fandom of killers. She perceived this fandom as another cartoons/dolls that StasyTheKiller was fond of as a child in 2005-2013 (Bratz, Winx, Totally Spies, Monster High etc), but when she saw that her daughter writes fan fiction about how her character kills people, she was scared and banned her creepypasta (August 2015). StasyTheKiller said that there was a scandal and her mother made her DELETE EVERYTHING related to this fandom. So all of her art from 2011 to 2015 has been removed and I can't prove to you that Stasy the killer is a long-standing character. I understand that you are all surprised, even not many Russians knew everything from beginning to end. So don't write "you're lying" or "where's the evidence?!" There is no evidence. As I said, her mother made her delete everything in 2015. StasyTheKiller started showing activity here in 2018. And if you didn't know about it before, it doesn't mean that she is new. Just stop hating. I know that these people are so nasty that they are able to calculate personal data and throw correspondence under the door. StasyTheKiller also told me that in the summer of 2019, these people even hacked her real page (not StasyTheKiller, but the one where she communicates with classmates) and found her aunt and even wrote to her! How do I know everything? Hey, I've been communicating with StasyTheKiller since first class (since 2007)! I know this girl. She is quite nice and nice to talk to. Yes, since 2011, she's become obsessed with Jeff, but that hasn't stopped our friendship in any way. I just want people to know the truth, and not discuss this 2018, which was the peak of the heyday of the Jeff’s canon in Russia. Now you know the whole truth, but please don’t arrange a barrage of criticism/hatred in the comments....
Emilly (Youtube Video) by KupcakeKitty
Hime-San by Rosellia00
Comics and Memes
Antologa escarlata 1.6  by FateDimoni


You know when I joked about the new layout not informing me of submissions? Hahahaha
turns out, it's not a joke! I have to go into the admin area and manually approve things now. In lieu of this, please don't spam submissions. That page is hard enough to navigate.
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IGNIS-THE-KILLER Featured By Owner Nov 27, 2022
Hello CP Fans,
I wanted to ask if you have an Instagram CP OC account. I would also like to create one as I have found a few and I like the concept of making an OC account (cosplays, drawings etc). Do you guys have any tips? If need be write me on Insta as it takes me longer to reply here.
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Eclipse-The-Awesome Featured By Owner Sep 27, 2020  Hobbyist General Artist
What do you mean by STK??
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Eclipse-The-Awesome Featured By Owner Sep 27, 2020  Hobbyist General Artist
Ah. That's just someone's OC they're very enthusiastic about. They draw her a lot and commission/request other people to draw her? As long as they aren't stealing art or double posting to the group, I don't really care if they have double accounts. I'm happy they're having fun.
Oliverthedragonlord Featured By Owner Dec 3, 2019
Why is my art keep getting declined?
Eclipse-The-Awesome Featured By Owner Dec 3, 2019  Hobbyist General Artist
Base work isn't allowed in this group. 
Oliverthedragonlord Featured By Owner Dec 4, 2019
Oh ok
Extra0rdinaryCPasta Featured By Owner Oct 25, 2018  Hobbyist Traditional Artist
The boy’s parents are both abusive to him, so his mom deserved to get called that
Extra0rdinaryCPasta Featured By Owner Oct 25, 2018  Hobbyist Traditional Artist
I’m nervous just asking it ok if I submit my comic about my monster oc rescuing a Hispanic boy? He’s bilingual but the only “offensive” thing I can think of is his dad calling his wife a “puta”, they’re both Hispanic too though. I submitted pages but quickly withdrew them because I didn’t want to offend again
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