Creepypasta/Crappypasta Stories

Trisha the Killer: Chapter 2

It's been three weeks since Grubs's funeral, and Patrisha was as depressed as ever. Grubs was gone, and nothing was stopping her now. The first person on her list was Bertha. 

She sneaked through Bertha's second story window, as quiet as a mouse, put her hand over Bertha's mouth, and stuck her pocket knife into the right side of Bertha's neck, then pulled it out slowly. Blood rushed out of Bertha's neck, covering Patrisha's hand and her sleeve. Patrisha was standing on the left side of the bed, so the rest of her was out of the line of fire. Bertha died silently and fast. Patrisha had put her out of her misery. She was never meant to be a nice girl.  

Patrisha was expecting to see or hear Andrew, or Grubs, or anyone for that matter, but nothing happened. She then made sure Bertha was dead. The last thing she needed was her to come back. 

She had claimed her first victim. Feelings of joy, sadness, and sickness filled her. She had thought she had prepared herself, but she was wrong. She ended up vomiting on the floor. 

I was planning on staying in town until I at least killed all three of these bitches, but it looks like I will have to leave. Good thing I had already had my stuff packed and ready to go in the woods out back. 

" Bertha?" Miss Charter asked from down the hall. " Is everything alright dear?" 

Patrisha whipped my mouth as Bertha's blood started to travel towards the door. She always hated the wood flooring they had in this house.  

Once she made her way out of the window and darted into the woods, the scream she heard come from Miss Charter was very memorable. The pain that would fill her, that was the punishment she deserved for raising her daughter to be Miss Sunshine. 

Patrisha took her sweater off, and cleaned herself up, making sure Bertha's blood was completely off her. She had prepared wipes that had bleach in them, and they proved to work. After she changed shoes and shirts, she crossed the border of the county, heading deeper into the woods. 

When she thought she was safe, she changed direction's and skipped over a few town's before she started getting tired. 

Deciding on sleeping in a tree was a must in her head, just in case someone wanted to go for a late night stroll. However, she did not expect her alarm clock would be the smell of a rotting corpse. 

She peered down to see a  tall man with long black shaggy hair. The only skin that was left on his face was around his discolored eyes and on his chin. There was a long, deep scar that was across his face. It started at the top of his left eye and ends at his jawline. He had on a white hoodie, which you could hardly tell was white anymore due to all the blood. He did, however, look like he had a new pair of jeans on. 

Patrisha held her breath. She was in disbelief. Jeff the Killer was real, and he was walking past her. 

He passed her and made his way out of her sight. She waited for a few more minutes before she let her breath out. She had survived an encounter with Jeff the Killer.