creepypasta x reader

19. training and talking

( y/n's pov )
Everything is dark. The forest is dark, the moon is gone, the stars are dull and glittering. I look at my hands, the black, oozy sludge that is my skin, and scream.

I try to scream, but no sound comes out.

I hear a crack behind me, the sickly snapping of bone, and what meets my eye is something no more human than myself.

It's tall, long, spindly, dark. It looks like a spider, but with two arms and two legs. Its head is malformed, only half of it remains, and its mouth is gaping. It hisses at me, and begins to move towards me.

Only then do I realize that it is backwards. Its legs are snapping, the joints popping and breaking as it forces its legs backwards to walk to me.

Its hands reach out to me, backwards, and its slender fingers caress my face. It makes a noise, like a little chatter, and grabs a fistful of my hair. Again, I am unable to scream.

It bends its neck backwards, the snapping and cracking of bone against bone, and leans in close. It closes its mouth momentarily before speaking.

"(y/n)," it croaks.

"Wake up, (y/n). Wake up. Wake up! WAKE UP!"

My eyes fly open, the only thing I can hear is the blood pumping through my head, my heart, my body. My chest is pounding and I am sweaty, and someone is holding my shoulders and shaking me. I wait for the darkness to dissolve, to let me see the day again, and come to my senses only a minute after I wake up.

Jane is shaking my shoulders, a look of pure panic on her face. I shake my head to rid myself of the nightmare and groan, the harsh lighting hitting my face all of a sudden.

"( y/n ), are you okay?" she asks, and only then do I notice the rest of the 'pastas looking at me with either horror, worry, amusement, or indifference. I blink.

"Huh? What?" I ask, voice hoarse and scratchy. My throat is dry and I want water. I lick my chapped lips.

"Are you okay?" she repeats, and I finally am able to decipher what exactly she's asking. I nod slowly, willing my eyes to stay open and not close and let me return to that hell again.

"Yes, yes," I say, words a bit slurred from tiredness. Jane lets go of my shoulders and sighs.

"It's 10pm, ( y/n ). Get ready to go training with Hoodie, okay?"

"Mhm, sure," I reply, my brain not completely processing that command. I get up anyways and wobble up the stairs, ignoring the other 'pastas as they ask me questions or say my name. I'm too tired for this.

I reach Sally's room and enter quietly, seeing as Sally is already asleep. She looks so cute, with her wavy brown hair splayed out all over the pillow and her teddy bear clutched in her arms. I really do adore Sally; she's basically the little sister I never got to have.

I grab my clothes, a pair of black leggings and a grey hoodie, from my drawers as silently as possible, and exit the room. But not before I kiss Sally's forehead, of course.

I trudge to the bathroom and throw the clothes on, tossing my previous clothes into the hamper. I turn to the mirror and assess my looks. Messy, tangled-from-sleep ( h/c ) hair, sleepy ( e/c ) eyes, and hot, slightly sticky ( s/c ) skin. I rub my eyes and turn on the water in the sink, putting it on cold, and splashing some over my warm face. It feels nice, refreshing, as if it's the first time I've been exposed to water in years.

I dry off my face and take my hairbrush out of the second drawer, proceeding to brush through the tangled mess that is my bedhead. When that's finished, I brush my teeth and put on deodorant (because of course, I don't want to be all gross and smelly like the boys in my old PE class).