I'm back! Sorry I went and disappeared (I doubt many, if any, cared...).
As for that other xReader fanfic... yeah. I'm most likely not going to continue with it. I just... don't know where I want to go with it. And I'm not as familiar with all the Creepypastas as I'd like to be so that I can write the best scenarios possible. Sorry.
Anyway, here's a fanfic that I WILL complete, because I already know how I want it to end! I'm also crazy familiar with Slenderman, anyway.
Lastly, this is just a pilot chapter, which is why it's pretty short. I plan to make the rest of the chapters decently long. At least 1500 words each.
Enjoy! And please review!
Despite the summer's warm breaths of air, freezing rain chilled your skin, soaking your bones, as it trampled hard onto your body. You had hoped to take shelter under a large oak tree, expecting its full branches and leaves to block the rain. There was no where for you to go – not for a better hiding place, anyway. As your body shivered uncontrollably, you regrettably began to reminisce the reasons why you were in this predicament in the first place.
You had killed them.
All of them.
The bullies, your parents; they were all dead by your hands.
It was a well thought out plan for someone your age. A young teen in high school, making about average grades only so you could get out of school and get away from everyone. That didn't happen, though. You couldn't stand it anymore. Instead, you had snapped. You plotted out taking care of the bullies first.
There wasn't much that you could remember – not in great detail – of how you killed those wretched girls that tortured you every school day. All you did know was that their throats had been slit over the bathroom sinks and toilets. Something about making a clean kill was to your liking. Right after slicing the final throat with a scalpel you had stolen from biology class, you darted out of the back door, racing home before anyone could notice yours and the girls' disappearance.
As for your family, they were a little complicated to kill; however, you had watched their living patterns for several weeks, taking note of every detail. On that particular day, your lifegivers both had the day off of work. It was still ten in the morning, and they were sleeping in. All you could remember was the musically sweet gurgling of your mother and father drowning in their own blood. There was, however, a flash of some rage that you had. Perhaps something set you off – the memories of their abuse and ridicule? Before the bubbles of blood finished boiling, you had begun to repeatedly stab your parents in the chest with that same scalpel from school. Only after the strong scent of iron filled your lungs did you manage to stop yourself from continuing. Your parents had been long dead by then.
You made your final escape into your back yard. A thick forest awaited you, branches outstretched as though welcoming your sinful self.
It was too late to question morals. You had gotten your revenge. Now you had to live with it.
Unfortunately, your planning of this particular day ended at the murder of your parents. You didn't think things through on where you would hide or how you would survive on your own. There was no doubt that the police would be searching for you within mere hours. The only thing you could do, for now, was make as much distance between you past and present as your legs could carry you.
That's when the clouded sky broke out into a downpour of cold rain. You quickly found an enormous oak tree with thick cover, taking shelter underneath. Despite this, you were already soaked, and the tree wasn't much help.
So, there you lay, curled against the base of the wooded giant and shivering like a madman. The dim sky reminded you that it was just barely noon. Night wouldn't fall for quite some time, and already you felt as though you were going to die. At least the rain was washing away the blood you had become stained with.
A deep voice faintly kissed your ears. At least, it sounded like a voice. Maybe you were hallucinating and it was just thunder in the distance?
"She lacks the purity I crave," the deep, honey-lemon voice was clear now. It seemed as though the owner were talking to himself.
A pair of pristine black dress shoes calmly stepped into your view. From what little you could see, there seemed to be equally as black slacks perfectly hanging above the footwear. Your vision blurred, then darkness overwhelmed you.