Creepypasta One-Shots

Bloody Painter

Requested by daz8_88

In the art studio of the Bloody Painter, canvases hang on the walls. They were the newest paintings of his victims. The paint used was their own blood, portraits of them. Every stroke was detailed with lighter or darker uses of blood. In front of him was another canvas, another use for his blood art. He lightly dipped his brush into the blood of his recent victim and began to paint.

Each stroke made a line on the canvas. The lines curved, darkened, brightened to create the picture and droplets weeped down the canvas. Behind his mask, he smiled, even if his mask had a smile with it.

The door to the art studio of the Bloody Painter opened. Y/n stood in the doorway. He turned to look at them before setting his brush down. "Y/n! Good to see you again. What brings you here?" He asked.

Y/n let out a 'hmph' before walking over to the Bloody Painter and taking his mask off. "You don't need this for painting. And your rent to live with me is due. So pay up," they simply said.

The Bloody Painter grabbed his mask back, now looking at Y/n with a pout. "Do I seriously have to help with rent?" He whined.

"Do you want to live here rent free? Or not?"
"Ugh... Fine, I'll pay rent."
"Good. Now get your ass downstairs and pay your rent."

The Bloody Painter grumbled before leaving his art studio. "Stupid rent thing..." grumble grumble "Dumb agreement..." grumble grumble "Y/n's so mean..." grumble grumble.

Y/n rolled their eyes at the Bloody Painter's grumbling. "Don't trip on the way down!"

"I'm not gonna tri- OH FUCK-" the Bloody Painter has fallen down the stairs and landed face first on the ground.

Y/n went over to see his misfortune. "They should call you the Bloody Oaf."

The Bloody Painter glared up at Y/n. "Oh? You think you're so funny? Fuck you."

"Fine, I'll just set fire to your lovely little art studio," Y/n said, making their way to the art studio with gasoline and a match.

Never have they seen the Bloody Painter get up so fast and be at the doorway of his art studio. He looked manic as his chest heaved rapidly.

"Don't you fucking dare," he hissed before letting out a large pant.

Y/n crossed their arms. "I have never seen you so upset before."

The Bloody Painter glared more at Y/n. His limbs were outstretched to block the entrance of the doorway. "Please for the love of everything that is holy and unholy, do not burn down my art studio."

Y/n materialized behind the Bloody Painter. "Too late," they said, walking more into the art studio with the gasoline and match in hand.

The Bloody Painter fell to his knees and threw his hands into the air. "NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO-"