「𝐒𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐭 𝐅𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐦𝐨𝐧𝐭」> [Creepypasta X Reader]
002
"Delusional"
10/30/20xx
Tim was someone you could have tea with. He was a pleasant fellow with an even more pleasant physique and face. A blessed one, [Name] could say.
She gazed at the somehow unfogged window in the kitchen, Timothy cleaning up all the snow that accumulated in the small garden her father used to pester young her in helping.
From what he told her, he helped her father everywhere. So basically a nanny. Now that he wanted to pay respects to her father, he works for her now. It's out of the blue, but convenient for the fairly lazy girl.
She coughed under the scarf that she still wore whilst she walked to her almost empty bag. There, a few thingamajigs laid, but one edible item stood awaiting. A strawberry chiffon cheesecake she got from one of her peers whom started a bakery already. She remembered the strawberry aesthetic of it all and was about to start her own cafe with the money her father kept sending her and her sideline chef job, but that clearly didn't come true for she's now here in Fleamont.
She doesn't like most desserts, just cravings, and she's sure she didn't want the cheesecake right now. Her stomach wanted something savory... And she wanted to at least give him a token of her gratitude for putting up with her little meltdown an hour back. Her father always said never to be an inconvenience.
She left the cheesecake on the table and got back to bringing the last of her things upstairs to her room. A familiar closed mahogany door suddenly stopped her in her tracks from bringing a few notebooks she compiled to her room.
It was the master bedroom of the quaint historical house.
It was strange seeing it closed. She certainly remembered her father always leaving it open for his fear that he would be locked in the room always made him stay awake. She used to wake up at night and see the orange light of his candle lamp illuminating the room and peaking through the two-inch opening.
Shaking her head, [Name] walked to the smaller doored room. Her room. A pretty green aesthetic casually hit her in the face. Her mother really liked green. It was probably one of the reasons she loved him. After she died, he tried implementing green to her younger self every chance he could get.
She learned to embrace the colour as to her father's liking. She really liked yellow though, her father didn't approve of it. Causing him to have a tantrum and banning yellow items in the house.
She complied. Her father was always right after all. She would be grateful he even took in and loved a murderer like her.
She finally walked down the stairs. On cue, Tim got inside from the attached door of the kitchen. "Oh! You're finally inside! I got you some cheesecake for my gratitude." With a tender smile, she washed her hands on the sink out of habit.
"Oh! Thank you." She saw the way his eyes lit up like a boy who got his first dog. She decided that she's going to ask a question she already knows. Or at least she assumes she knows. Father always said it was bad to assume. "Do you like cheesecake?" He pulled the dark chair whilst he used his other hand to comb his messy, cold hair back. "Yeah. I really do." So nostalgia gets him to talk. How cute. He always seems so on guard but just a talk from the past makes him slip up. It really was unexpected for a man like him.
'Collage days?' She guessed randomly as she leaned in on the counter, watching the stranger whom wore the grey turtleneck and the dark red trousers that surprisingly complemented each other. "Why, if you don't mind me asking."
"Uhm. I used to be a broke college student, I could only eat small meals, but on special occasions, I ate cheesecake." He said so unguardedly with a smile after he ate his third piece. It made her heart jump.
"Really? Then I should start giving you cheesecake as payment. Not too much though. You might hate the taste." She said, eyes closed with a catty grin. Tim gasped in faux offense. "I would never!"
They clicked together like a puzzle, but in reality, they clashed like two puzzles from different boxes.
"Well, it's getting a bit late..." 6 o'clock actually... But it gets dark in Fleamont earlier. "May I ask, where do you live?" She took the now-finished plate to the sink, not before rolling up her sleeves. The cold nipped her arms that it made her flinch for a second.
"Oh! Let me help you, sweets— Ashford, originally. But I started living here during non-holidays sometimes." He stood up without grace, but [Name] is not in the right to judge.
The surprisingly not-rusted copper sink was spacious, so Tim decided to help the oh-so-gracious host by cleaning up the lone fork he ate with.
"Oh! Thank you. But you didn't have to do that." She giggled with a smile that doesn't so suit her face.
Tim wanted to ignore the aching, familiar feeling that the damn girl right in front of him watched his every move. Masky on the other hand, wanted to eradicate her. He hates that feeling. Hate. Hate. Hate.
The It reminded him of the time the boss kept looking at him. During filming and after. He hated the boss. No. No. No. Not his fault. Not his fault!
The girl was just too familiar. Did they meet before? No. No, impossible! Can't be, no no.
"Are you feeling well?" Her small smile seemed to be stretched out in Tim's point of view. The skin from each side morbidly creased from the inhuman smile. Her gums could be seen and the spaces on the end of her teeth, reddish black.
"Yeah! I, uh— have to go—" [Name], in confusion, tilted her head, scanning his new jittery form. She quickly got rid of the shooting thoughts when he started to walk to the hall. So she quickly bid the rushing man the too early farewell.
"You left your bag!" She saw an orange reflection of light.
.
.
.
"What an unstable fucker." She didn't know what he saw, but it clearly looked like it was from a horror scene in one of those new movies.
She wiped her wet hands on a nearby rag.
"Should I eat something? Visit a few shitty places?" She glared at nothing, swearing like a sailor. If father heard this, he would faint.
Eating is unnecessary. Father would disprove, but he's not here anymore. She'd walk to the park for now. The park was always surrounded by old protected trees. Best place to find and talk to that insect fuck.
She wore her outdoor shoes, checking her peripherals if something moved.
Nothing.
Better safe than sorry. She coughed into her pink-tinted hand. This was dangerous. Acting so relaxed in the dark watching forest surrounded Fleamont.
〈Fun Fact〉
This is the suckiest chapter ever
Author hasn't finished Marble Hornets. I got really frustrated watching the hotel scene thing. Where the pov guy meets the girl.
Author really likes how E.J.'s story Is a bit inconsistent. Even his last name isn't really decided upon. Makes it interesting from my perspective.
Jeff is a rat in my eyes. No explanation.
He acts like one too/j
I used to have a Liu fixation. Now, not so much.
Author really likes how newer fics portrays Toby. How he's so much a victim in all his years alive. Even when working for Slender.
I find it funny how younger Creepypasta fans collectively agreed Slender was a father figure when my guy literally eats children. Horrifying little thing.
Author likes to think about what Slender's possible backstory was like. I like to include the Slender brothers.
Speaking of Slender brothers, whom do you guys dislike the most?
For me, even as I was young, I couldn't find an appeal to Offendermann 💀 I don't waste my energy disliking him because he's fictional, but I can confidently say that I like Jeff more than him.
Author is sick af.
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