Creepypasta Boyfriend Scenarios

First Meeting

  ((Alright, so first of all, I'd like to say that I was pretty young when I started working on this, and of course, three or four years is going to improve the trash you produce; I'll asterisk* the ones I've worked on recently, but as for the rest... Just, try to keep an open mind. Or skip them. You do you.))





Jeff the Killer*

Creepypasta: the internet's solution to lacking a movie channel, or at least a horror movie channel. There were the little goofy ones that tried as they might, but could only give you a little bit of a chuckle without adding in some sort of blood-saturated media; and then there were the classics that may not always be the best, but nearly anyone can recognize them. Finally, there were the ones that seemed to attach themselves to your subconscious, stepping into your thoughts at exactly the wrong moments. Of course, all three do that to some effect, but those, they were the absolute worst for those who lived alone; in other words, they were bad for people like you.

You squinted at the window in front of you, the light from your computer reflecting on it, along with a vague, you-shaped blob of darkness. Sure that you were once again alone, you turned back to your monitor. A few seconds prior, you had heard something against your window. It wasn't exactly foreign; in fact, the sound was well known to you. Stray cats often hopped on your window sill, looking for a meal. With that in mind, you went to check the small dish of cat food. Of course, it was empty. After cracking the window, you paced your way to your kitchen. Hefting the bag into your arms, you hurried back to the window and placed the bag at your feet. You finished opening the window, and plucked the bowl from the sill. Knelt below, you made quick work to scoop the food bits in the dish. That was when you heard soft footfalls, which isn't exactly calming to hear down the sidewalk this late at night. You stood up as quickly as you could, which anyone who has made that mistake can tell you, did not help you to accomplish your task any quicker; instead, you stumbled backwards, spilt some of the food, and kicked over the bag. As soon as you could regain your wits, you were staring into two unblinking eyes—a frightened tabby. You placed the bowl in front of it, and it didn't hesitate to start chowing down.

Of course, this isn't the end of our story. Now imagine a young man, walking down the street purposefully; a sinister purpose, but still a purpose. I'm sure that most of you are up to speed on who this is, but just in case, I'll give a brief description; worn out tennis shoes, ragged black dress pants, stained white hoodie, and shaggy, char-black hair. Sound familiar? Yeah, well, this jerk happens to see you sticking your head out the window, rubbing on a rough-looking cat. Jerk-hole happens to think back to something he saw on television once. Knife-throwers, if he remembered correctly. He was only looking for a walk, but he couldn't complain about a chance like this. He stands up straight and takes a deep breath, then readies his arm. "Straight for the eye," he repeated to himself; he readies, aims, hurls—and misses. The cat jumped into their apartment, and they chased after it. He glances both ways, and darts across the street. He vaults through the window, and blindly feels around for his knife. He hears the faint call of "Here, kitty kitty," easing some anxiety, until a sharp "Gotcha!" rang through the flat. He felt his hands shaking for the first time in what felt like ages. His would-have-been victim appears before him, both cat and knife in their hands. This is you, as you could most likely guess.

You wanted to be able to say you gave the intruder a knee to the face, that you pinned him down and made him sorry for interrupting your night—but all you could do was watch him clamber out of your window; all that he left behind was a thick feeling in your throat and his knife. You wasted no time in closing and locking your window, deciding it best to leave the cat in. You hid the knife in your bedroom and hastened your way to the bathroom; it was pretty impressive to have not wet yourself at the sight of that guy, despite narrowly avoiding that fate.

.

Slenderman

You decided that you had had enough of aimlessly surfing the internet for the day. You put on something other than pajamas, and headed towards the woods near your house. No one ever went in after some stupid teens claimed that they'd seen Slenderman there. Didn't they realize that it was just a post on Something Awful's forum? You walked around for a little bit, taking in the tranquil atmosphere, until a scream rung through the forest, and a nearby flock of birds took off hurriedly.