my creepypasta story

the mansion and the torture

As Y/N's consciousness faded, the figure hoisted their limp body over its shoulder. The fog seemed to part as the creature moved with eerie precision, navigating through the park and out onto a hidden path that led deep into the woods. The ancient trees loomed ominously as the figure carried Y/N towards an old, decrepit mansion that stood isolated from the rest of the world.

The mansion was a relic of a bygone era, its once grand facade now crumbling and overgrown with ivy. The windows were shattered, and the front door hung ajar, creaking eerily in the wind. The figure pushed through the door, the sound echoing through the empty halls as it carried Y/N inside.

The interior of the mansion was even more foreboding than the exterior. Dust and cobwebs covered every surface, and the air was thick with the scent of decay. The figure moved with purpose, heading straight for a hidden staircase that led down into the depths of the mansion.

In the basement, the walls were lined with old, rusty tools and implements of torture. The figure laid Y/N on a cold, metal table, securing their wrists and ankles with heavy iron shackles. As Y/N began to regain consciousness, the dim light revealed the true horror of their situation.

The figure stood over Y/N, its eyes gleaming with sadistic pleasure. It reached for a nearby blade, the sharp edge glinting menacingly in the faint light. Y/N's heart pounded in their chest as they struggled against the restraints, but it was no use. The figure leaned in close, its breath hot and foul against Y/N's skin.

"Welcome to my home," it whispered, its voice a chilling rasp. "You won't be leaving anytime soon."

With that, the figure began its gruesome work, the blade slicing through flesh with sickening precision. Y/N's screams echoed through the mansion, mixing with the laughter of the figure. The night stretched on, filled with pain and terror, as the old mansion claimed yet another victim.