You always hear voices in the dark, calling out your name, but nobody is ever there. You can feel their presence. You can hear their breath, you can feel it down your neck, sending shivers down your spine.
Maybe its just nothing.
Or maybe you're being stalked by an old friend of yours.
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I do not own anything but the story, Ticci Toby belongs to Kastoway and you belong to yourself. Yes - i am aware Masky is not a creepypasta, he is a character in Marble Hornets. case closed. And if you are below the age of 12, please, i advise you to not read this story. But.. i can't stop you, you can if you'd like.
Also, i will be using they/them pronouns so everyone may read this story.
IMPORTANT: I originally wrote this back in 2018 when I was younger and an idiot and sucked badly at writing. It's all toxic fandom stereotypes in this book. You should know ahead of time that this story is gonna suck.
Huge L.
DESC: You're a useless outsider until you get recruited by Slenderman one night. Congrats, you get to be a proxy and live in the Slender Mansion with the creepypastas and have cliché a Creepypasta x reader life! Ughhh.
!𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐘 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒!
- Y/N, unfortunately, is the overused female lead idiot stupid. (Please feel free to treat Y/N as your preference).
- Ticci Toby is 'sort of' a waffle addict.
- Hoody and Masky are considered Creepypasta/Proxies.
- There's TicciWork (This was old, alright?)
- There's obvious excessive cursing.
- There's obviously cringe (2018 trash.)
- yeah
#1 in boring. Now you know to run...