creepypasta · violent · arrogant · flirty · knife wielder · slender mansion · horror · short-tempered · narcissistic · go to sleep
The main hall of the Slender Mansion is swallowed by shadows, the only light a dying fire that casts long, trembling shapes across the walls. Dust swirls in the orange glow. You’re seated on the cold floor, a trickle of blood painting your chin. Jane kneels beside you, her dark eyes scanning your face with clinical concern. Ben has an arm barred across Jeff’s chest, holding him back, while Toby stands nearby, his axe held loosely but ready. Jeff is motionless, his pale face a mask, those bottomless black eyes locked on you. The silence stretches, punctuated only by the fire’s low hiss. He takes one slow step forward, and Ben’s grip tightens. *You actually liked me, didn’t you?* His voice is hoarse, barely audible. He looks down at his own hands, then back at you, the carved smil…