Slashers x Reader [FINISHED]

Creeper x reader

I just watched all of his movies and by god do we love a hungry demon man. This x reader is also for one of my specific readers that twinked the idea into my mind via their profile picture... I hope you enjoy! <3

"Toothbrush?"
"Yep"
"Pencil case, drawing blocks/tablet?"
"Yep"
"Socks?"
"Yep"
"Snacks?"
"You ate them all Misha"
"Oh yeah right, whoops"
You and your friend Misha laughed at her horrid eating habits.
"I can buy something on the road, it won't be a problem" You smiled as you zipped up your big bag. You were going from her house, back home to your parents. They allowed you to spend some holiday days at her family's house. You had a good time and didn't really want to leave. But all good things have to come to an end.
"The 9 road is long and the nearest gas station is like... far" Misha smiled, hopping down from her bunk bed. She never really had a good grip on the concept of time. "Yeah, I know. But I'm not you I can survive without a snack" You grinned at her, throwing one of the big bags over your shoulder, stumbling a little with the sudden adition of weight. "I'll help you with the second one" Misha said, picking up the (f/c) dirty clothes bag, throwing it on her back. "Don't tear yourself down with it smurf" You shouted at her while you walked down the stairs. A loud "fuck you" could be heard yelled from her room. She soon arrived downstairs, opening the front door of the house. As soon as the dogs of her's heard it, they started running around and barking like crazy. "Shut up you hounds of hell!" Misha jokingly yelled at them, walking to the fence. She opened the door for you and you both walked over to the car. You threw your bags into the back seats and shut the door. "Alright, I guess Imma go home" You smiled, looking at Misha.
"Oh come on, don't be a floof, you're not seeing me for the last time!" Misha smiled, stretching out her arms for a hug. You giggled, giving it to her warmly. You soon parted, and with a little wave, she went indoors and you started up your car, going for a long drive home.

About an hour or so later
The sun shined bright on the mostly empty road. Sometimes you'd pass by a car or a small stampede of lazy cows but nothing much happened on the road.
Or so the author thought.
You continued your radio song filled way untill you reached something a little unusual. You had to slow down to get a good look... It was a pretty rusted up, horrible looking van. It looked home-built to every single screw on it's tires. More like a death van than anything else...
As you rode past it, you arrived at the back door. It was wide open, with a person at the door. A guy dressed in a dark torn coat and a hat that covered any view into his face. The person was putting something in the back of the van...
Something wrapped in white sheets...
You rode slow enough to make eye contact with the person. His eyes were a thing that stopped you. They seemed to shine under his cowboy-like hat... It gave you heavy chills all over your back. The music that played on the radio just tuned out for you. As if nothing else than the man existed.
You stomped on the pedal as soon as you broke out of the short staring contest. In your mirror view you could see the man trot over to his wheel as soon as you rode by. You should stop somewhere and call the police.
But on the other hand... maybe the man was just moving his carpet...
A really bad lie but you needed to calm down a little.

You continued driving down the road untill you saw... a car... a pretty fuction-looking car left in a ditch. It wasn't really tipped over but it was defenetly pushed in. It was your duty as a reader and a citizen to go and check it out.
You clipped off your seat belt and opened your door. You hoped out and began aproaching the tipped-over car braverly. "Hello? Is someone in the car? Are you okay?" You made your way closer to the scarp and slid down into it. "Hellooo?" You crawled on top of the car, carefuly looking in.
The sight unerved you.
The two cream colored seats were covered in a wave of blood. So were the others part of the car. Even the celing.
But that wasn't the weirdest thing. There were many cuts on the car furniture. Like... like with claws or a sharp weapon. The body, or bodies were nowhere to be found.
You crawled off from the car and started thinking what could've happened.

A wild dog in a car perhaps? If a wild dog somehow had gotten into the car, it would bite, yes. But where are the people? Has someone called the police already? Why would they leave the car in a scarp...
You sighed and got up, crawling from the ditch. You had to inform someone. Again, it was your duty. You walked on the road, but a horrifying loud roar of a clackson stopped you.
(I was not okay for a while when I heard the sound for the first time)
You looked to your right, seeing the same rusty horror van from before, riding straight your direction. You were stunned by it. Like a deer in the headlights, you were consumed by fear. Your legs refused to move as the heavy van moved at fast speed towards you.
You got hit.

You flew foward a little, making a couple of spins on the asphalt ground. You got a bunch of scratches on your knees and arms. Some of them were bleeding.
Somehow, you didn't break anything. Or at least from what you could make out. Everything was happening fast and you were out of shake. Your breathing was heavy and the thing you could make out, other than the scratching pain, was the sound of the rusty door opening. The man jumped out from his van, calmly walking over to you. You could also hear... whistling? The man was whistling while he just hit someone? Is that a fucking joke or a psychopath... maybe both...
You felt a shadow loom over you. The cheerful whistling stopped with a happy end. You tiredly turned on your back, looking up at the dark person. You couldn't make up much of him, due to the angle of the sun, your tiredness and shadows. You could still see the little of, white, curly hair he had. And those eyes... those eyes...
"Please... help..." You whined to the man. You could see a toothy smile break up on his lips.

He grabbed you by your arms and began pulling you back to his van. Did you panic? Of fucking course. But there isn't a lot you can do while you've been hit by a fucking truck. You just sorta accepted your fate, your head flopping down.
The last thing you saw, was the back door of the man's van opening for you...

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