Creepypasta x Messenger!Reader

BEN Drowned

You stared at the envelope in your hand, your eyebrows drawn together in thought. Tracing the letters written on it, you mentally kicked yourself in the head for agreeing to deliver it. Sighing and leaning your head against a tree. It was supposed to be given to some entity named "Ben". However, after about a week of searching, you hadn't gotten any closer finding out who he was, or where he lived.You grimaced, wishing you had questioned Jeff just a little bit more on his friend's whereabouts.

The map you had, which usually shifted it's course to help you find the person you were delivering to, kept shifting around every few hours, pointing you in completely contradictory directions. It was like this Ben guy couldn't stay in one place for more than a day. It was obvious he could teleport, however you'd never seen someone do it so often. You rubbed your temples, groaning. Whatever, fuck it. You needed a drink. 

Getting up from the forest floor, you brought out a knife, carving an inscription into the tree you previously had been leaning on. In the Creepypasta world, it was tough in general to find others. But no matter what, there is always one place, one source a monster, killer, or proxy can go to in order to get information and seek out creatures such as yourself:

The Bar.

The symbol you drew lit up, the tree transforming and shifting slightly, roots stirring and leaves shuddering. You placed your hand on the bark and pushed, walking through it. Your body went through the tree as if nothing was there in the first place, and suddenly you were walking into a pub.

Four monsters sat in the corner around a table, playing poker. A few other creatures sat in stools, where an entity made entirely of some black, inky substance was behind the counter, getting them drinks. 

Walking up, you sat in one of the stools, a bit away from them, and waited patiently for the bartender to come over and take your order. As you sipped your drink, you looked around at the other creatures, wondering if one of them could give you advice in tracking down a frequent teleporter such as Ben.

The door behind you swung open, and someone came up and sat next to you. You ignored him, stirring your drink lazily with a spoon. Maybe I should get some food, you thought. As you focused on the card game those four monsters were playing- it seemed like the one that reminded you of a furby was winning- suddenly, the person next to you slammed his hands on the bar, startling you. You turned to look, and saw a blond haired little kid having a stare down with the bartender, his red pupils practically glowing.

"I told you. I'm 22!" He huffed. You raised an eyebrow at him. He looked no taller than 5' 3", and was standing on his chair in order to be taller than the creature he was facing across the counter.

The bartender glanced back down at the ID he was holding, the multiple rows of teeth in his mouth shifted into a frown. "This is a fake. No drinks." He responded, and the blond's ears, which were shaped like an elfs, twitched.

The blond's voice lowered, as he growled, " I'm. A. Ghost. I don't look my actual age, idiot!"

The bartender handed back the ID. "So it IS a fake then."

"Yeah, ok? It's a fake, dummy. Can I get a drink now?"

"No, because I still don't know your actual age. For all I know you could've become a ghost last week."

The ghost looked pissed, but before this argument could go on any further, you raised you hand to catch the bartenders attention. "Could I get another one of these?" You asked, pointing to your drink. "I'm gonna be here a while."

The creature nodded stiffly, and walked away as the blond kid glared at you.

You finished off the drink in your hand, and asked him, "Tough life, huh? Or, I guess, afterlife." He looked away from you settling back down in his stool. "What do you want?" He said bluntly. "Gonna make fun of me?"

"No, actually, I have some questions to ask."

He looked over to you again, narrowing his eyes, as if he was analyzing you. "Why should I answer?"

The bartender came back over, giving you your drink. "Thanks," you muttered to the creature, before sliding the beverage to the ghost. The bartender looked incredibly unhappy with you, but walked away without a word. You smiled at the ghost.

"Because it'll take some time to finish that drink, and I already told you, I'm gonna be here a while."

He slowly smiled at you, bringing the beverage closer to him. "I'm cool with that." He said finally. You nodded, grabbing your bag and opening it.  "I'm a messenger," you explained to him, shifting through papers. You really needed to be more organized. "Someone needs me to deliver a letter, it's a bit urgent, but the problem is, I'm having trouble tracking the guy down."

Ben leaned forward, watching you shift through letters. His red pupils were deep in thought. "Why?" he asked.

"I think they're some sort of electronic ghost, or some other creature that can teleport. He does it often, though, way too often, and I can barely change directions before they're gone again."

He took a sip of his drink. "So you want advice? Or for me to deliver the letter?"

You thought for a second. "Well, which would you be willing to do?" He smirked at you, "I'll deliver the letter for another drink."

You gave him a look. "No."

He shrugged. "Worth a shot. Ok then, 5 bucks."

You stared at him again, ready to say no, before you realized he wasn't going to do what you asked without some sort of payment. You huffed. "Fine." and gave him the letter. He took it, before holding out his hand again, rubbing his fingers together. You glared at him. "You get the money after you deliver," you said to him.

"I know," he responded, his smile widening. "My name's Ben." He looked at the expression on your face and laughed. You weren't sure if you were feeling disgust, anger, or amazement. But you sure as hell weren't giving him your money now. He opened his letter, reading it. His smile faded, his expression turning back into a serious one. 

"Jeff sent this?" He asked. You nodded. He muttered something under his breath, before getting up. "Finish my drink for me, I gotta go make sure he's not dead yet."

"Wait!" You called out to him. "Why do you always travel so much? How am I supposed to track you down again if I need to?" 

He looked at you for a second, before smirking again. "Get a computer?" He shrugged. " Or maybe just come here again. That seemed to work." Before you could get another word out, he left. 

And he didn't even pay for the drink.