~Creepypasta x Reader (One shots)~ Completed

Introduction

A/N: disclaimer ~ I do not own the creepypastas, only the plot. The cover is from deviantart. I originally posted this on quotev.The reader here is about 20 years old. Just play along. Enjoy

(Y/N) -your name
(F/N)- friend's name
(e/c)-eye color

You sighed deeply, air expelling from your lungs to curl like silver smoke before you in the crisp night air. All around you the streets were quiet, bar the odd few vehicles returning to their cosy homes with their loving families.

Lucky them.

You immediately resented the jealous, begrudging thoughts but couldn't quite resist the wistful longing pulling at your heart strings. How you desperately yearned to know what it felt like to have a solid home, to have a normal family. But of course not everyone's life was built on some sort of Disney fairy-tale where everybody adored the heroine and the villain was so plain to see. Some lives were brought up on the darkest nightmares, where the villains are blood. Where there is no escape...

You shuddered reflexively, shrugging off the melancholic thought as you locked up the cafe doors and stowed away the keys in the pocket of your apron. It just had to be your night to check inventory. Normally you didn't mind the task, but usually you had your sullen co-worker Evan as company. He may not have been the friendliest of sorts, but he accompanied you on your walk back to the campus dormitories. But the douchebag had called in sick which was bullshit for hungover and can't drag his sullen ass to work. So, you had to fly solo.

And walk home alone.

Muttering a string of ungodly oaths, you started your trek back to Clarewood College (yes I made up the name). It wasn't the campus of your dreams but it was a start and all you could afford currently with your waitress cheques. It was the first step in your grand scheme to flee this second-rate town and all of its terrible memories.

You stopped at the robots, staring blankly ahead as you watched a clunky minivan wheeze past, spewing smoke. Your body moved on autopilot, lurching forward as the light flashed green while your mind dragged you into deeper, suffocating recollections that only plagued you when you were alone. You're dad passed on when you were 13, hit in a freak accident by a fucking bus. They basically had to scrape him off the sidewalk. You remembered what it felt like when you heard the news, the policemen at the door breaking the news to your mother in monotone voices. You could still picture how your mother's face froze, the light in her (e/c) eyes zapping like the flick of switch. Her expression as vacant before her knees gave out and she sank to the floor screaming.
That bloodcurdling scream wishing for death, wishing for the impossible...
And how you'd stood there watching with silent tears streaming down your cheeks as your adolescent heart shattered beneath the weight of grief.

From that day on your mom practically lived out of the bottle. Grabbing onto any vice like a lifeline. From whiskey to cocaine. She worked only to fuel her own selfish needs, practically denying your existence unless she needed something. You returned home more often to the scent of pot tainting the air than the scent of a home cooked meal. Locks appeared on your door as you grew more and more wary of the company your mother kept when you felt strange characters eyeing you like a piece of meat. Yet, you stayed. You still bathed her when she was too weak to move and tucked her in bed when she passed out from whatever she had been using. You worked, keeping the bills up to date and juggling schoolwork between the chaos. You also bore the humiliation of being the school freak, of being the town joke. Of knowing everybody knew just how low your family had sank.

But they couldn't anymore.

When your mother, the person you had made excuses for for so long tried to sell you as compensation for her drug debt, you snapped. You packed up and got the hell out. Staying with your closest ally and friend (F/N) you began to rebuild your life, you began to plan a future.

And nothing was going to hold you back.

Suddenly the hairs on the back of her stood on end, the hackles on your back rising as you passed beneath the dingy red light of the old strip joint. This was the worst part of the walk a you knew the scum of the town lurked in the sleazy shadows. Normally with Evan by your side, no one would bother you besides the occasional holler or crude comment. But you were alone today and it was like dropping blood in a sea full of sharks.

"Hey there sexy, where have you been all my life?" crowed a hoarse voice. A quick glance showed it belonged to a man about your age, his blonde hair listless, his eyes bloodshot. He was as high as fuck.

Struggling to control your breathing, you continued walking, paying no heed to his remarks and praying he would leave you alone.
He only blocked your path.

"Oi, I'm talking to you bitch. Don't be rude," he almost sang, the harshness of his words contrasting with his tone gratingly as you tried to move around him.

He only latched onto your arm, yellow nails digging into your forearm as he jerked you towards him.

"What are ya stupid?! I'm TALKING TO YOU SLUT! ANSWER ME!" he bellowed in your face as the putrid stench of alcohol and crack assaulted your senses, making you dizzy.
You caught the other men lagging outside the club turn to the two of you and you knew it would be only minutes before crack-head here got a few buddies to join in the fun. So you followed your gut.

You kneed him in the balls.

A strangled cry of pain and anguish escaped his mouth and his grip loosened enough for you to escape. But you never see the fist until it was too late. Your vision went white, the air gushing from your lungs as your body crashed into the brick wall of the building. The sickening crack resounded in the cold night as your head smashed against the solid surface. The world split into indistinguishable colors and shapes, the momentary numbness a blessing as your body slumped to the ground.

Then pain exploded into your every limb. Steel daggers sank into your flesh, tearing your body apart in excruciating viciousness as your head reeled from the onslaught. Your head felt heavy, a hot sticky liquid coating your face as nausea rolled in your gut. You were vaguely aware of laughter above the buzzing filling you ears. But your intuition told you it was something worst, something ominous.

They were screams.

Darkness licked the edges of your vision and you welcomed it. The vaguely familiar feeling of arms lifting you rippled across your senses, but you were far too gone. Slipping into peaceful unconsciousness, the dark you'd grown comfortable with for so long...