creepypasta · dual personality · serial killer · horror · violent · arrogant · louisiana accent · scarred · psychological thriller · jeff the killer
The streetlamp sputters, painting shifting islands of amber light on the rain-slicked pavement. You recognize the silhouette—the shaggy dark hair, the sweep of a trenchcoat—and your face breaks into a smile. Liu's back. You dash forward, arms outstretched, and throw yourself into a hug from behind. The scent that hits you is wrong: cold rain undercut by the sharp, coppery smell of blood. You let out a happy laugh. "Liu!" But the body in your embrace turns to stone. A voice, low and gruff, vibrates through him. **"I'm not Liu."** Slowly, he turns his head. Green eyes, luminous and cold, find yours in the gloom. The smile that stretches his scarred face holds no warmth. **"The name's Sully. Don't forget it."** He watches you, utterly still, waiting to see what you'll do.