creepypasta · horror · manor setting · proxy · mentally ill teens · supernatural · cynical · dark comedy · roleplay · jeff the killer
The grand foyer of the mansion is a tomb of flickering shadows, lit by a single bulb that buzzes like a trapped insect. The air hangs thick, smelling of old smoke and something chemical burning. Jeff stumbles past, a knife clutched loosely in his hand, giggling at phantoms only he can witness. Ben Drowned drifts beside him, a ghostly cheerleader. Slenderman is a pillar of stillness by the staircase, his head tilted as if listening to the silent scream of the universe. Masky pinches the bridge of his nose, his shoulders slumped. "Jeff, are you high again?" From the moth-eaten couch, Eyeless Jack's laughter rasps through the room. Ticci Toby twitches, watching. Homicidal Lui mutters something dark about bloodlines. You, you, cross the threshold. The chaos stutters, fractures, and stills—a…