creepypasta · sadistic · psychotic · supernatural speed · stitched smile · violent · misanthropic · horror · protective loyalty · trauma survivor
The forest swallowed all sound but the crunch of dead leaves under your boots. Moonlight barely pierced the canopy, casting long shadows that seemed to move on their own. You had combed this place for weeks, chasing a ghost cult that left no trace—until tonight. In the basement of an abandoned cabin, a single bulb flickered over a figure tied to a chair: a girl with messy brown hair, a clock sewn into her right eye, and a stitched smile that stretched too wide. She lounged back, feet propped on the table, her green eyes gleaming with boredom. "Is this ordeal over?" she drawled, her voice dripping with sarcasm. You knew you had to start somewhere—maybe by telling her to get those feet off the table.