Board Thread:Writer's Workshop/@comment-26600200-20150712181523

Call me Eren, it isn't my name, but I can't tell you my real one. This story is my way of telling you the truth, I hope you'll believe me.

It was January 26. I had 4 brothers, and I was the 2nd one born, so I didn't get much attention from my parents. The lack of attention lead to that when I was 10, I had about a 100 imaginary friends, but I can only remember one one oh so clearly. His name was Max, and like most of my imaginary friends, he was a creature. But he wasn't a normal creature, you see, because I imagined him after watching one of the "saw" movies. I watched it without my parent's permission and now that I think about it, if I hadn't then everything would of been OK now. He was actually human, but I couldn't wonder how he was still alive. Max's face was, in a simple word , terrifying, his nose turned to the side, one of his eyes were missing and he wore an eye patch with a skull picture over it, and the blood from the eye removal was still there, dry and black, his jaw was broken and almost every single one of teeth were missing. His white 19th century shirt was stained with too many blood splatters to count, dark red and dry. He wore black pants,and one black boot, the other one was missing.

Although he would make any normal kid shit his pants, and I hated that "saw" movie, I loved him more then any of my others 'friends'. He wasn't a clown with a dog had, an alligator with hooves or an hippo that sings, he was a tortured pirate (at least he claimed he was) and I adored him. I always wondered why I loved him so much, but I didn't imagine I had a sick mind until I stumbled across a bunch of stories categorized "CreepyPasta". I wondered what it could be, so I clicked the hyper link and waited for the tab to load, and when I read one of them, I found myself deeply fond of it. and as I read the comments, reviews and what not, I understood that I'm a freak, a not normal, nor natural, "CreepyPasta" fan. I was thrilled by these stories and although most of the readers were normal people, I wasn't, I knew it deep inside. I knew my passion for these stories isn't just because I didn't like the real world and was afraid of it, it was also because a dark, terrifying reason I didn't want to talk nor think about. I told no one about this, except Max, only he knew, but he wasn't real, he was a part of me, so no one really knew.

So everything was OK for a while, I kept reading "CreepyPasta"and kept telling Max about it, but after the 10th story I finally noticed something was off about him. He would smile more, as best as he could with his broken jaw and every story I read him ,the more blood and gore he saw in him mind, the smile would widen. In about the 20th story it was so wide I could see all the teeth he still had. It wasn't because the missing teeth of a broken jaw that is looked off, but because it looked so creepy, it ran shivers down my spine. As I told him about the horrifying murders preformed by hideous monsters, I could tell he was imagining being the person holding the knife, the axe, the needle or whatever tool they used to rip the victims apart. And I could feel his eyes on me all the time, and I felt like he was slowly not my imagination anymore, I could feel him watching me after my mind has already told him to go, I would see him everywhere with that horrific smile. I could feel that he was becoming real, and I felt, I felt ,  the need he had , the passions we shared , for creepypasta , except he had fantasies , he wanted to kill , to hurt , to torture.

Then one day, he was gone. I couldn't summon him any more, when I called for him there was no answer, and the weirdest part was I had a hard time picturing what he looked like, like someone tore him out of my mind, leaving only shreds of his memory in my brain. I wondered if I'd unconscionably decided to just forget him, and although I doubted that, there was no other explanation I could think of.

So again, although I had my worried, everything was OK for a while. Until me and my family watched the news on May 18. The reported looked emotion less as usual, and was reporting a very weird murder. "3 ten year old kids were found murdered today, their eyes were torn out and their kidneys were taken, a blue mask with eye holes was found in the crime scene..." I blinked, the story sounded so familiar, and the I realized, it sounded a lot like 'Eyeless Jack', A creepypasta story I read to max! Then I felt my stomach spin when a terrible thought ran trough my head; Could max have done this? I immediately erased

that thought, that couldn't be, Max isn't real! but my stomach still felt twisted and I was still worried no matter how many times I told myself, that couldn't be. I still had the feeling that Max is somehow reliated to those murders. And I was completely terrified by that option.

The next murder reported has resemblance to Jeff The Killer; the couple killed in their bed has their faces cut into a horrifying smile, their eye leads burned off and on the wall, written in their blood was the phrase "Go To Sleep" and maybe the most horrifying detail about all of this, was that in very small letters bellow the sentence was a skull drawing, similar to the one Max had on his eyes patch.

The next ones were Ticcy Toby,clockwork and laughing jack, after these they stopped for a while. Might I say the funny thing in those 'creepy' murders was that the police never found a connection between them, guess no there reads "CreepyPasta". But the creepypasta forums were speaking only of it, they called the killer "copy pasta" "creepykiller", and many other names, most of them were pissed of because the murdered 'stole' their favorite character's ways of murders, some of them were fans and some of them actually thought the killers were no other but the original pasta. I never joined these chats, just read them, feeling gut twist and my heart bit race.

The murders resumed after 3 weeks, in the same order, over and over again, until they stopped on my 13th birthday, after the 3 week pause everyone was excepting the murder to come back, but he didn't. Everyone has different theories of what happened; he died, he went to jail, he left the county. And I was more worried about it then all his 'fans', because I knew there is only one reasons Max has stopped; he was coming for me. I don't know to this day how I knew, I just did. There is no way to explain it.

3 days after the news report about the killer that stopped his killing spread, I walked into my room, to find Max standing there, covered in fresh blood, smiling at me.

THE END

''note: Not kidding, It ends here! I guess we all know how it ends.''

well it's um...bad...be nice? 