Just Another Creepypasya Fanfiction

1. A New Beginning

'There it is,' I think to myself. 'That's the place.'
With a determined nod, I walk towards the house. From the outside, everything looks pretty normal. It's neither fancy nor run down. It's just a house. Really, unless you were looking for it specifically, your eyes wouldn't be drawn in. Even the vehicles in the driveway are ordinary. I wonder if this was intentional; if the goal was to blend into the street so well that nobody would suspect anything and want to go in. That's not really a bad plan when you think about it. It's just a little stupid when you decide to show the world what kind of monster you are. It defeats the whole purpose of trying to blend in as a normal person. When your true self is a monster, you can't be normal. They're proof of that.
I go around to the back of the house and approach a window. I lift it up as slowly as I can, not allowing it to make any noise. I don't need to worry about being seen in the shadows, but I do have to be wary of being heard. Sound raises awareness, and awareness interrupts my plans. Finally, after a moment of struggle, I'm able to get the window up without a sound. As I've practiced so many times before, I lift myself up and jump into the home. Just as carefully, I re-close and lock the window.
The first time I saw this room, I thought it was for storage. All of the furniture is old and worn down, some of it broken beyond repair. Clothes in a similar condition are scattered across the floor. Dirt and dust surround everything. There are unusual objects against the walls - a rake, a chainsaw, a street sign, a broken clock, a radio that's probably older than the house. There's even a bag of trash in here. Anyone would confuse it for a storage room unless they knew the truth. Or unless they questioned the night light.
There's a blue bunny made of yarn on the floor. I pick it up gently, aware that it's handmade and fragile. Whoever made it clearly did it quickly, possibly without caring about what it ended up looking like. The ears are drastically different sizes. One of the button eyes is right above the mouth line while the other is where it should be. It's sad to look at, truthfully. But I already know how special it is. I softly put it on the raggedy bed next to me, right in front of the little girl.
I start to make my way across the room when I step on a loose board. It lets out a low and loud groan. I sigh, then turn around. The girl is now awake and sitting up. I want to be surprised or annoyed, but I already know that she's a light sleeper. We stare at each other silently, barely moving, barely blinking. I don't know what to do. I could stay here until she falls asleep again, but that runs the risk of her parents finding me. I could continue for the door, but she might follow me. There is the window, but she might scream if I go toward her. All of the different options swirl around inside my head until I feel confused. The only other option left would be to kill her. But I've never killed an innocent person before. The idea hurts my conscience. I run through all of my thoughts again.
"You're back," She says, shattering the silence.
Unsure of what I'm supposed to say, or if I'm supposed to say anything at all, I respond with, "What?"
"You're back," She repeats, "I've seen you. You're here a lot."
That's a problem, "What do you mean?"
She goes on to tell me all the places she's seen me at. Outside her house, at the park, outside her school, at the store. I'm a little surprised that she's seen me, but only because it never seemed like she was looking. I've been stalking her and her family for a few weeks now, since I first saw them while I was out for a walk, so of course being noticed isn't a surprise. But she was always looking at and talking to her bunny, or focusing on the ground. It doesn't seem like she should be the one to catch sight of me.
"Have your parents seen me too?" I ask. That would pose a huge problem for me.
"No," I let go of a breath of relief that I didn't know I was holding, "I've told them about you. They call you my made-up friend."
That's good. That's great. They don't know or think that I'm real, so they aren't on edge about a stranger breaking in. My mission hasn't been ruined, "Okay. You should probably go back to sleep now," I tell her, "Growing kids need sleep."
She completely ignores me, "I'm Alisper. What's your name?"
"My name is Jeff. You know, you really should-"
"I'm seven-years-old. How old are you?"
"I'm twenty-seven. Alisper, please, go back to bed."
"Why?"
"Well, because sleep is important."
Even though her nightlight isn't very strong, I see her give me a skeptical look, "But I don't want to sleep. I want to play. Will you play with me?"
"I actually have some stuff I have to do right now, and you have some sleep to get."
"What are you doing?"
I sigh. The only way to end the interrogation is to take control, "Can I ask you a few questions instead?" I see her nod. "Are you happy?"
"Um..." I wait silently while she thinks about it, "I guess so."
"Do you like your parents?"
She doesn't say anything for a while, "Yeah."
"Alisper, why do you have spots all over your arms and legs?"
I already know the answer. I've been watching for a reason. The moment I heard the things they called her when their windows were open, I knew. I let a few moments go by silently before I ask again. I don't want to push it and I'm sure she's been told to stay quiet, but I need the confirmation.
"I'm not allowed to talk about it," She answers quietly.
"How come?"
"We'll get in trouble if I do."
"Who will get in trouble?"
"Mommy, Daddy, and me."
Not surprising that she got the usual guilt trip. I hear it a lot when I deal with abused children - that telling will get everyone in trouble and then Mommy and Daddy will never be seen again. The child will be sent to a worse set of parents, or be thrown out on the streets. Life will be somehow more horrible, so it's best to just shut up and deal with what you have. I hear it all the time.
"Alisper, I promise you won't get in any trouble," I say, "I want to help you. Please, tell me where the spots came from."
She's hesitant, but she tells me everything. The screaming, beatings, starvation punishments, complete isolation, anything they can do to have control and make her feel like she's not a person. It's disgusting. I have to practice a lot of deep breathing exercises in order to keep myself moderately calm. If I get too angry, I might act impulsively. Impulse is not something I need to struggle with right now. Passion is good, but it can also make things messy. I can't afford to move again. So I breathe deeply and carefully, listening to everything she says and hoping I don't lose my cool. I feel like I'm going to puke when she's finally done.
"When was the last time you saw one of your other family members? Like, an aunt or your grandparents?" I ask.
"I don't have any."
I frown. I assumed that the reason no one came around was for the sake of isolation. I didn't expect it to be that they don't have anyone else. That does make all of this a lot harder. How am I supposed to free her from this nightmare when there is no place else for her to go? It's not a stretch to say that life could get worse for her in that case. Although, that doesn't mean all options are out the window...
I smile at her, "Alisper," I start, "How would you like to come live with me?"
Her eyes seem to brighten at the suggestion. Her demeaner quickly changes though and she looks at me suspiciously, "Really?"
"Yeah! It won't be a problem. You can pack up all your stuff and I can take you to my house. I'll even go talk to your parents about it that way they don't get worried about you," A bitter thought crosses my mind about her not actually having any belongings, and her parents probably not realising she's gone for a few days. If not weeks.
"Um... But I have school."
"I can still get you to school, no problem," I say even though I know she's not in the school system. She learns from home. Then I realise that I'm being pushy, so I decide to make it clear it's her choice, "Of course, you don't have to. If you'd rather stay here with your parents, that's okay. I'm just offering to adopt you. It's your choice whether you accept that offer."
She doesn't say anything and I come to the conclusion that she's thinking about it. I put my hands in the pockets of my hoodie and cross my fingers. If she says no, I'll leave and won't come back. If she says yes, well, of course, she'll leave with me. And of course, her parents won't fight me on the matter. We go back to the mansion and I'll introduce her to Sally and everything will be great.
Sally.
"If you're worried about being lonely," I start, "You don't need to worry. I live in a big house with a lot of people, including a little girl who's about your age. I'm sure she'd love to meet you."
"Really?"
"Really."
She gives it another second of thought, then nods, "Okay. I guess you can adopt me."
I smile, "Okay, not a problem. Go ahead and get your stuff gathered and I'll go see your parents. Stay in here. I'll come get you when it's time to go."
She agrees and picks up her backpack. I slip out of her bedroom and start creeping down the hallway. None of them know it, but I've been here a few times. I know exactly where their room is. I also know where the key to their gun cabinet is, that their door hinges were conveniently oiled yesterday, and that their bedroom window has been nailed shut. No matter how this goes, I will have the upper hand. That's an indisputable fact.
I sneak silently into the room and go to the bed. Much to my surprise, Alisper's mother is rather beautiful. Every time I see her, I'm taken aback by the fact. In my mind, she looks like a Hollywood depiction of a witch - complete with a long, pointy nose and a bunch of wrinkles that make her look like a pissed-off dog. Instead, she looks exactly like the beautiful female lead who all the male cast swoons over. Her appearance is the exact opposite of her personality.
Alisper's father isn't ugly either. If he were a character in the movie, he'd be the popular guy that the nerd main character obsesses over and does a full personality switch for. And just like in one of those movies, it's actually him who needs that personality switch. I guess it goes to show that opposites don't always attract. They're both highly attractive, hard-working people with god-awful attitudes. How they managed to create Alisper, who has a heart of gold, I don't know. The black hair seems to be the only similarity.
I push the woman lightly, hopeful that it's enough to wake her. She shifts but doesn't wake. I try again and face the same result. I decide to switch up my method by flicking her in the head, right between her eyes. The discomfort is enough that her eyes start to slowly open. Once she sees me, they burst open. I quickly cover her mouth to prevent her from screaming and softly shush her. I reach my other hand into my pocket and pull out my knife. I make sure that she gets a good look at it before I lightly touch her with it. I can see her panicking and I smile. They're much easier to deal with when they're afraid.
"I take it that you're Mrs. Jones?" I ask very quietly so as to not wake her husband. She nods frantically, "Good. Listen, I just met your daughter Alisper. Uh, she is your daughter, correct?" She nods again, "How unfortunate for you. We just had quite the conversation during which she told me about some of the things that have happened to her under your care. Now, before you get angry, she didn't just talk about it. I noticed the bruises and asked her about them. She just told me the truth. Isn't that good of her? Anyway, I heard all about everything that you and your husband have done, so I'm going to ask you a few questions and you're going to answer them, then I'm going to go on my way. Understand?" She nods again, "Wonderful. If I were to guess that there are more marks on her, ones that I can't see, would I be correct?" Her only response is a slight look away from me, "You better answer me or I swear I am going to take this knife of mine and cut out every single one of your organs. Do I make myself clear?" Terrified, she nods again. I'm disappointed by this information, but certainly not surprised. I brace myself for the next question, "What about sexual assault? Has she been sexually assaulted?" I admit that I'm expecting a yes, so I'm caught very off guard when she shakes her head to indicate 'no'. I'm immediately relieved. Still, you can never be too sure, "Really? She hasn't been hurt like that?" She responds with the same movement. I choose to believe her, but I make sure to give her a warning that I'll be taking Alisper to a doctor and that I'll come back if they say otherwise. I have to stifle a laugh when I say it. If she thinks I'm joking, she won't be scared anymore. If she knows she's dying tonight no matter what, she won't do what I say. That secret is for me only, for now. I ask her a few more questions, then get to my final one, "If I assumed that you won't mind me taking daughter as my own, would that be another correct guess?"
She looks at me confused. I take it that she's either too tired to make sense of the question, or she's too dumb. Either way, I decide to uncover her mouth after making it clear that she'll die if she gets loud, "No, no," She insists in a hushed tone, "You're more than welcome to take her if that's what you want to do."
"You have no idea how happy I am to hear you say that," I say gleefully, "Now, I want you to carefully get up and get her birth certificate and all that other shit I'll need for her future. I hope you understand how important it is to me that your husband doesn't wake up. I get the feeling that he won't be so cooperative, and then I'll have to kill you. So if you'll just get up and gather those, quietly please, I'll quickly be on my way."
She's fast to comply. Instantly, she gets off the bed and starts to inch her way toward the closet. While I hate everything about her, I appreciate that she's taking my threat seriously. The floor doesn't make a single sound as she goes across it. I almost feel like I should be taking notes. Of course, I never needed a flashlight to help me get around. So, minus a point for that.
Finally, she makes it to the closet door. She opens it carefully and starts to rummage around. As I already knew, their closet is very messy. I would have found Alisper's papers prior to this visit if the closet had been better organised. But of course, she's not new here. She flicks through a box full of paper, another one, then a third one at shocking speed. She doesn't examine all the boxes as carefully, but it doesn't seem she needs to. When she can't find them in one of the floor boxes, she reaches up to pull down a shelf box. It makes a loud 'thump' when she places it on the floor, but it thankfully didn't affect her husband any. Still, I throw her a very annoyed look. She mouths a 'sorry' at me before getting back to work. Impatience starts to boil up in me after ten minutes. I feel like I'm about to explode fifteen minutes after that when she starts to put the containers away. There, in her hand, is a folder. All caution goes to the wind when she goes to hand it to me.
If it weren't for the mess, everything would have remained fine. But there is a mess, a big one. As she moves toward me, she trips over one of the boxes on the floor. She falls to the ground hard. The noise is so loud that it instantly jolts her husband awake. Acting quickly, I stab her in the neck before she can do anything else, then I jump onto the bed. His panicked shuffling makes it obvious to me that he's trying to find his pistol. As he continues to not find it, I grab him and throw him back down. I'm fast to stab him in the abdomen before he can throw me off. I get in a second hit before getting up. He loudly chokes for a moment, then everything falls silent. His wife is already dead now too. But, I do check their pulses to be safe.
I pick the folder up off the floor on my way to the door. I decide to shut it behind me when I leave the room. I'm not entirely sure why I make this decision, but it makes the most sense to me. On my way back to Alisper's room, I stop in the bathroom. Murder is a bloody task, and I'm sure it would be some type of traumatising for a child to see me like this. It's easy to get everything off my skin and knife, but the hoodie poses a problem. I really should get a red hoodie for my missions. It would be easier to manage, and take less time. After forty minutes of scrubbing, I'm only able to get it to a pink colour. It's not great, but it's good enough for now.
When I enter Alisper's room, I find her asleep with a small pile of clothes next to her. I frown. It looks like there's just enough for only one outfit switch. That's not enough for anybody, let alone a child. She probably worries so much about getting her clothes dirty that she can't actually enjoy playing. I search her room for anything else - more clothes, some shoes that have attached soles, a coat, or literally anything that any child should have available to them. The only thing that I'm able to find is an old drawstring bag. I shake it to try to remove as much of the dust as I can, then start putting her stuff in it. I start with the clothes, followed by the folder, and then her bunny on top. It does well for the weight distribution.
The only things I didn't put into the bag are her socks. With how many holes are in her shoes, I didn't see a point in putting them on her. They aren't going to protect from anything. I slip the socks on over her feet, then gently wake her up. I have to repeat myself a few times, but she finally sits up so I can put the bag on her shoulders. Once I'm sure it won't fall off, I instruct her to get on my back. Before I'm even to the front door, she's sound asleep again. I'm careful to stay kind of hunched over to keep her from falling off. I'm also careful to re-lock and close the door behind me. I want to see how long it takes people to realise they haven't left home.
I sigh when I see the snow. October is pretty early for this kind of weather, but I suppose that nothing is surprising anymore. I never thought that I'd be so careless as to cover myself in acid. I never thought that I'd have a mental breakdown so bad that I'd carve a smile into my face. I never thought that I'd become a serial killer. But all of those happened. They've even led to me adopting a child through technical abduction. What's a little snow in October? Compared to everything else, it's a treat.
I smile as I step through the opening in the trees. It's time to go home. I hope she likes it.