#mh hoody

Guess what, the plushie artist is back! And the 3.5 boys got plushified

was thinking and went “hoodie but ena” so here we are

I’m posting a school project I just finished writing, it would be great to get some feedback! Hope you enjoy!

There are three things you need to know before starting this story; One,I’m on the run for committing murder; Two, I can tell you that I 100 percent didnt kill anyone, and Three, i don’t know who framed me.

Let’s take this story back to the beginning though. My life was normal, almost boring in a way. I lived in a small apartment, worked at a local camping store and I hung out with friends on the weekends, following the same routine, week after week. It was peaceful;

At least it was until the murders were reported. The first death was a shock, our town was known for being quiet, we never even saw it coming, never imagined what was to come. By the end of the month, there were five mysterious deaths and not a trace of DNA found on the scene, no hints, nothing to tell us who was doing this, just the bodies that were piling up.

This is when everything went downhill; I started noticing things that could be brushed off as forgetfulness, except it didn’t feel quite right. Things like waking up to a cool breeze from a window, though I was sure I had closed it before falling asleep, or coming home from work to find the door unlocked when I knew I locked it before leaving for work. 

They started out small, barely warranting a second thought, but soon became something I couldn’t ignore, too often to brush off, which eventually threw me into paranoia.

 I couldn’t shake the feeling of being watched, the constant ringing in my ears like static, the way my hair stood on end, and everytime i tried to mention this to others, I was told it was my imagination, that I was crazy; The thing is, I knew I wasn’t. Still, no matter how much i told myself it was fake, I couldn’t shake the thought. The paranoia soon led to sleepless nights, which lead to hallucinations, which would manifest themselves as a shadow of a man peering in my window, but when i threw open my curtains, nothing was there, or the creepy shadows that seemed to watch me from the forest as i passed on my way to work, or even the way it felt like people around me were watching me,following me, i kept seeing the same two men everywhere. 

At this point I was close to freaking out, maybe I was crazy, maybe everyone was right, until late one Saturday night, I was holed up in my apartment; curled up on the couch reading, tv turned down low for background noise, when a flash of the screen caught my eye. My own image enlarged on the staticy screen. Lunging for the remote, i turn up the volume, catching the reporter saying my own name before he continued, “we believe this woman is responsible for the seventh murder in the last two months, as DNA was found at the scene, pointing back at her,” the reporter pauses and i lean forward, waiting for him to speak again “if you see her, stay far away as she is dangerous and most likely unstable. Call police forces as soon as possible so we can get this individual behind bars and hopefully stop the murders.” With that, the news report is over and I turn off the tv. What do they mean my DNA was found at the scene? I never killed anyone, just the thought of it makes me want to throw up. I don’t understand, did someone frame me? If so, why me of all people?

At that moment, only one thought was clear in my brain. I had to run, I had to get as far away as possible. That night, instead of doing the logical thing and turning myself in and explaining it wasnt me, I packed my things in a bag, walked out the door and from then on, I was a wanted criminal on the run. 

I moved from place to place, never staying in one spot for more than a night or two; I stayed in abandoned buildings or shabby motels, sometimes even sleeping under trees deep in the woods if i had to. Even after living like this for a month, I could never shake the paranoia that followed, like something bigger was happening than I suspected. That’s when I had my first encounter with them.

The two men I thought were figments of my imagination were real, they were the ones driving me crazy. It was one night I was staying in the forest, when I heard the voices, one rough and angry, the other one strange and distorted. I couldn’t hear them until it was too late, one yelling for the other, obviously looking for something; Apparently that ‘thing’ was me. I was terrified, were they going to turn me in?, until they both stepped through the bushes wearing masks, one holding a large crowbar in his hand. They saw the fear on my face and laughed as I got up, ready to run for my life. With this, I dashed through the trees, jumping over roots to escape and hearing heavy footsteps behind me. Bursting through the tree line, I ran towards the first crowded street, glancing back to see them reach the tree line before halting. I merged into a group of people, keeping my head down until I could slip into an alleyway. This was the first of many encounters with these men, each time the same as the last, I would run, they gave chase, I got away. They treated it like a game, like it was fun. I wished they would just stop, just leave me alone, I didn’t know how much longer I could continue this game of cat and mouse. I wanted it all to end.

No matter how much I wished for the game to end, I still wasn’t ready for when it finally did. I was staying in an old abandoned hospital, I had yet to fall asleep, I just couldn’t seem to. That’s when I heard the footsteps, they sounded like they were on the floor below, headed towards the main set of stairs. In a panic I jumped to my feet, not caring about my bag of stuff as I dashed towards the emergency exit, the only other way down from the second floor, unless I wanted to break a leg by jumping out the window that is. I ripped open the door and fled down the stairs, which led down into an alley behind the building. Leaping off the last step, I didn’t think, just ran. I wanted out of the alleyway, out of there, away from whoever could be inside that building. That’s when things took a turn for the worst. Someone stepped around the corner and into the alley, which caused me to stop abruptly. I would have thought they were a cop, except for the fact that in the dim light from the moon, I could see what they were wearing, a pale yellow hood and faded jeans. I couldn’t see their face, it was too dark and the hood shrouded their face in shadow, but judging by their figure, I assumed they were a guy. Backing away, I went to dash out the other side of the alley when I heard heavy footsteps coming down the fire escape as I turned around. I assumed the man that was in the way of the other opening of the alley was who I heard coming up the stairs in the building. Both openings of the alley were blocked, I was like a caged animal, but I wasn’t giving up just yet. I turned back to the man in the yellow hoodie, eyeing him up. He was bigger than me but that means I was probably faster. I was going to make a mad dash and try to make my way around him, it was my only chance. Without warning, I started running. I saw him pull the weapon out of his hoodie pocket, I saw him raise his arm, but my brain didn’t fully register what he was doing. He hesitated a second as he aimed the gun, pulling the trigger with a loud boom that echoed off the walls of the buildings around us. Pain shot through my chest, catching me off guard like a deer in headlights, and as I collapsed, one last thought raced through my head, “looks like i got my wish, it’s all finally over.”

I really didn’t think I would ever go back but look where I am now, back to my obsession with fictional serial killers. I-.

This fanfic Im reading is a wholeass roller coaster. First few chapters were all murder and gore, then the ones after that were suspense and plot twists and now-

Here’s some screenshots of the fic i-

If anyone’s interested, it’s called spill your guts, creepypasta x reader, can be found on quotev and ao3. Amazing writing, I’m just posting the shit from here that’s funny or causes me second hand embarrassment …

(OOC- Guys im begging you send asks im so bored)