I've been reading a lot of these stories recently. So I thought I'd throw my hat into the ring.

Ok, warnings first, i do NOT own Hardcore Henry nor do i own the creepypasta's in this story, i merely own the story. I also do not own the art. one more thing, this has alot of blood and gore and swearing, not cool with it, you probably shouldn't read this. After closing your so called "wife" out of the helicopter, you figured that the mercenaries would still be after you, so you decided to move to a small town in hope's this will blow over, but you'll end up getting more than you bargained for.

This tale follows (Y/N) (L/N), an 18 year old high schooler. To call his life up until now 'subpar' would be an understatement to say the least. In his earlier years, his younger sister was kidnapped and murdered, his mother died from exhaustion and his father skipped town. Now he lives alone, only getting by via a government allowance until he leaves education. Unfortunately for him though, being alone meant that he was also an easy target for pretty much anyone to pick on. However, one fateful day led to a wonderfully bizarre chain of events that no one ever saw coming... Fun fact: I'm from Britain. Due to this tragedy, my spelling or wording may be..... British? Regardless, I'll do my best so that it's understandable to everyone. I WOULD LIKE TO CLARIFY THAT I OWN NONE OF THE IMAGES NOR THE CHARACTERS (other than a certain plot-relevant fella). ALL ART AND CREEPYPASTA BELONG TO THEIR RESPECTIVE OWNERS AND YOU OWN YOURSELF.

(THIS STORY IS DUE FOR A COMPLETE REWRITE. A MORE FITTING PLOT, MC, & SETTING ARE IN THE WORKS.) The name "Nightstalker" is in reference to an O.C. of mine. You (the reader) borrow the mantle and fill that role for the sake of the story and setting. This story was written for fun, and in my free time. I do not claim ownership of any of the art presented in this story. All rights go to their respective owners.

You are just an average inkling in Inkopolis Square, when you notice a strange person who changes your life. This story begins in Splatoon 2, but I will mark in the chapter list when the story jumps to Splatoon 3 for those of you who want to jump straight to that point instead. All rights for the characters and bits of story go to Nintendo. I also don't own any of the pictures in this, unless specified other wise. Cover photo by Yuqoi on Deviantart. If I mess something up, please tell me.

You were an out-casted seventeen-year-old high schooler who never really had may friends. Your mother and father were killed in a deadly car crash when you were only fifteen years old.You were in the car with them yet you survived with a few scrapes and bruises, the doctors said it was a miracle that you survived at all. You've held a great interest in guns and knives from your father. You would always go hunting and and fishing with him in forests and rivers. Now that he is dead, you don't do that kind of stuff anymore as it brings back memories of your dead family. So you mostly sit around your soon to be foreclosed house cleaning and maintaining your guns and knives you owned. But that was all about to change tonight. Just in case: Y/N - Your Name L/N - Last Name H/C - Hair Color E/C - Eye Color F/C - Favorite Color *I don't own any of the pictures for the story, they belong to their rightful owners.*