[OLD] A Stranger Is Watching. (Creepypasta X Reader)

Chapter Two Do-Over: Insanity In The Boondocks

As we spiral into the hardest part of this book (because of the different personalities), I may have to warn you I will be changing the book just a bit. The personalities of (Y/N) and the other characters will be a bit more toned to a murderer, or someone who is dealing with mild MPD or schizophrenia. Insanity and Southern may be toned down to simple lines of suggestions, more toned to a small case of schizophrenia than Multiple Personality Disorder.

Just letting Ya'll know. Thanks for reading my crappy story writing.

"What do you mean, I'm coming with you?" (Y/N) growled to the man who was now walking closer to her. His was now holding the crowbar with both hands and an even stronger grip, as if her were ready to take a swing.

"It means your coming with me!" He snarled back. "Get your shit collected and come back here." He looked at the heap of rotting trash and the two dead bodies. His face twisted when he took a sniff of the air. (Y/N) was used to the smell of rot. It engulfed the home on a daily basis, but the overwhelming smell of blood got her to the point of almost losing her dinner. "Is this room always like this?"

"Yeah..." (Y/N) looked over the heap of garbage. Trying not to look at the limp bodies laying by it. There was a rotting chicken leg, two dead mice, and at least twenty ripped garbage bags showing the contents inside.

"Ok. Get moving. Get some clothes, snacks, and personal items or you wont see the light of day again."

(Y/N) started walking out the door. 'Jesus Christ, someone didn't get a hug when he was a kid.' She thought while striding through the hall to her room. 'Maybe you should slap some sense into him, (Y/N).' She decided that was a bad idea.

She walked up to her room, the door had 'My RoOM' carved into the top of the door frame. 'How did I even get up there?' She wondered, with such tall doorways, she, even being an 'almost teen,' could not get close to touching the top of the door. She pushed the door open, it screamed out in protest, but it slid easily over the carpet of the room. The shiplap walls were painted a light gray, with one wall having a (pattern of choice) pattern on it. There was a single dresser, painted a dark gray, a singular bed, which wood was the same dark gray, but the sheets, pillow cases, and blanket had the wall pattern on it. The last thing in the room that really stood out was the nightstand, which, was just the same dark gray, with a small lamp and clock on it.

(Y/N) walked over to her to her dresser and opened the bottom drawer. She pulled out a large gray gym bag. She started packing all the things the man told her she needed, but in an amount that would last at least a week. Seven shirts, five jeans, two shorts, one pair of sweat pants, and some undergarments. She closed up the dresser and looked around the room. 'Personal items, huh?' She thought a bit. She didn't want to grab any photos, that hurt her to much. She spotted an oversized stuffed polar bear on her bed. One of those stupid kids had lost it up a tree. When (Y/N) came to help them get it out of the branches, they called her ugly because of her scar.

'Why don't cha' take that? Somethin from home, ain't it?' (Y/N) liked that idea, so she grabbed the bear and stuffed it into the bag, leaving its head out the side when she zipped it up. There was still space in the bag for snacks in the extra pockets, and some space for other things. She grabbed a small sketch pad and pencils, a folded blanket, and a small novel. She shoved it all in a larger sized pocket.

"Ok, Ok, umm... I need to go to the kitchen...." (Y/N) didn't notice, but the man was leaning on the door frame. When she turned, she jumped, startled.

"I know there is something wrong in your head, but what's with the personality shift? You didn't seem like the one to get scared."

"I- uhhhh.... shit...." (Y/N) straitened up. "I... I do that from time to time..." 'Hay, don't tell him that!'

"Huh.... what you need from the kitchen?" He moved away from the frame of the door. He was smoking. The man didn't seem to be worried about leaving evidence behind.

"The snacks." She said with a bit more confidence. "What's your name?"

"Tim, but they call me Masky." He put out the cigarette and put the mask over his face. "Come on," He growled. "I'm suppose to be home already... God... Brian is gonna kill me for being late..."

'Tell him we need to get gone.' (Y/N) was a bit confused on who was talking, but she listened. "We need to hurry up before the cops come, Tim."

It be dat boi, oh man what up.

Yep, Its me, ok, this is where I must tell you, yes, there will be a lot of changes. You told me to redo it, and I may accidently change a lot.

Oops