Eyeless Jack x Phobia [OC]
Part 1 of 2
Commission for ShadowSuperFan
Eyeless Jack © Creepypasta
This story © RecklessAlbinoChibi
Phobia © ShadowSuperFan
The night was dark as the front door of Slender's Mansion crept open slowly, quiet footsteps vibrating off the cracked, wooden floorboards. As the door opened, a slither of the moon's light illuminated the floor for a brief second, before disappearing completely as the door clicked shut behind the one whom was entering the household. The walls were a mixture of a majestic purple and a few splashes of red. One could never be sure whether these splatters of red were either blood stairs or paint, and nobody had ever felt the need to question it. The floor was just simple, cracked planks of wood that had been neglected over the many years - causing them to become broken, dusty and just plain filthy.
An eerie little breeze crept around the hallway as the young, 15 year old girl rolled her shoulders, her hoodie ruffling around her torso as she did so.
She was a height of 5'2", and dressed in a grey hoodie and some simple, black jeans. The hood of her jacket was drawn up above her head, covering her hair. Her face was covered over by a black mask with two white eye sockets seemingly glowing out from the it. They were so white in fact, that they could more than likely light up even the most powerful of darkness. This creates a vision of hope, of life. However, this girl could never be this 'hope', and 'life' that the whole world yearned for. She was the bringer of the darkness that had befallen the Earth, a demon in an angel's disguise.
A little bit of crimson blood was splattered on the front of her hoodie and a tiny speck had somehow managed to make it's way onto the left side of her mask. She paid this no mind, as she straightened out her hoodie.
This mysterious young girl went by the name of 'Phobia'. At some point in her life, she had had her own, normal name. But, just like most of her memories, it had lingered in front of her, dangling only just out of her grasp, until it disappeared completely. She was left with practically half a mind, gaps in her memory appearing everywhere.
When she was born, she was immediately cast away from the world. Sent to an orphanage, she had no choice but to sit and wait out her days. Every time she'd see a new adult face, she'd become hopeful, thinking that today would have been the day that she finally got a new home. Finally have a new family. Finally have somebody to love her. Until the age of four, she was alone in the small orphanage. At some point in her fourth year of life, a man and a woman came. They'd soon be announced as her new mother and father. They had given her everything a young child could want or need.
She was happy.
Until the age of six.
She witnessed something that no other person should ever have to lay their eyes on. And at the young age of six, no less. The poor girl watched as her 'father' wrapped his hands around her 'mother's' throat, squeezing until the woman who had showed her so much kindness lay still like a piece of dead meat, hanging out of his dirtied hands. This was not all. From then on, she was beaten by the very man who was supposed to give her care. Over time, she became depressed and spent two whole years of her life hiding in the shadows. She never wanted to trouble anyone. She never wanted anyone to know. She never wanted any of this. All she had wanted, was a loving family. Was that really too much to ask for? Phobia had become mute, refusing to let a single word slip from her mouth. She never let out a single sound as her 'father' beat her senseless.
All of this changed by the time she was nine. She'd had enough. Well, who wouldn't? Even if her memory was still in tatters, she remembered how it felt as she wrapped her fingers around the blackened handle of an old kitchen knife. She could remember easily how she let her finger slide across the shining blade, her blue eyes glazed over with a psychopathic quality. The thing she remembered most, however, was driving that sharpened point into her so-called 'father's' flesh, killing him slowly and painfully. Just like what he'd been doing to her. She had murdered her murderer. Ironic, isn't it?
And now, this brings us to today. She was now a rather well-known murderer. The daily news highlighted her as the 'psycho killer' on the loose. She wasn't the only one, however. She lived with other 'killers'. A rather strange setup, but it seemed to work. After what she had done, she was welcomed into the house with open arms.
The young girl cracked her neck, an almost inaudible sigh escaping her mouth beneath her mask. She was no longer mute, as you may have guessed. Although she didn't talk often, she did sometimes have her things to say. She'd only speak if it was truly necessary. Or she was by herself.
"And what have we got here?" A voice sounded from the end of the hallway. Phobia snapped her head up to see who was speaking to her, only to roll her eyes beneath her mask.
The owner of the voice was a young male, roughly eighteen years of age. He had long, matted black hair and wide, unblinking eyes. His skin was a pure white, due to an incident that had happened in his past. His mouth was a large grin that had been carved into his cheeks by a madman. Or, when I say madman, I mean himself.
"You're getting back a little late, aren't you?" He let out a dark chuckle, taking a step towards Phobia. "Oh wait," his smile seemed to widen. "You're not going to answer, are you?"
Even if he could not see it, Phobia glared at him.
"Why not?" Jeffery questioned, raising an blackened eyebrow. "Is your voice to horrible for me to handle?"
A small, flame of anger ignited within Phobia.
"Is it because as soon as you open your mouth, the whole house will burst into flames and we'll all die?"
The flame grew a little bigger.
"Is it because, as soon as you speak, Slendy will think you're killing a cat?"
Was that alcohol being thrown onto the fire? KABOOM.
Lifting her hands, Phobia let a tiny, darkened chuckle that brought chills to Jeff the Killer's body. Her head clicked to the side, her shoulders shaken due to her crazed laughs. "Jeffery," her quiet voice cracked, a satanic vibe releasing from her words.
He backed off a little, his hands up in order to protect himself.
"Do I sense a little bit of fear?" Her voice glided out of her mouth, reaching Jeff's ears with a terrifying chill. "The mind... The body," she started, her voice dropping in an octave. "The fears," she whispered.
Just as Jeff was about to send a clever comeback her way, they heard a small voice.
"How about we all calm down a little?"
At the voice, Phobia let her gaze glide away from the male she was just seconds away from terrifying to death. The fire within her seemed to extinguish as she lay her eyes on the closest friend she'd ever had in her pathetic little life. He was of average height, and wore a mask too. His mask was a royal blue, with empty black eye sockets. Black ooze dripped out of the sockets in an eerie manner, but it was just one of the things that drew Phobia closer.
"You're so lame," Jeff sighed. "We're just having fun."
"I can see that Phobia here is becoming a bit mad," he stated dryly, tossing a look towards Jeff.
"Ah well, screw you too man," the black haired male 'tsked' and walked off, probably to torment another inhabitant of the Slender Mansion. Probably Sally.
"Are you okay?" Eyeless Jack brought his attention to the young girl. He lifted his hand, letting it fall onto her shoulder. She twitched a little at the contact, but relaxed into it soon after.
The male nodded with her, showing her that he understood. "How did your killing go?" He asked casually, attempting to make some kind of conversation.
Slowly, she lifted both hands and held up eight fingers.
"You killed eight?" He asked, and she confirmed it with nodding. "That's a rather good total for a night's worth."
They were brought into an awkward silence.
"How are you?" She said quietly. He was taken back by her sudden little voice, but soon a smile had appeared under his blue face-cover. "I am good," he answered. "And you?"
She only answered with a nod.
"You know," he sighed, turning his head away. "Ben thinks that we are dating..."
She snapped her head towards him, taking him aback once more. 'Is she really that offended?' He thought sadly.
"And obviously, I said we weren't," Jack let out a nervous laugh. He noticed as her shoulders slumped. "N-Not that I wouldn't want to date you though!" He added on quickly.
She stayed quiet for a while - for so long that Jack thought she was just not going to say anything. "Did you just say that you would want to date me?" She asked quietly.
"W-Well, who wouldn't?" He blushed beneath his mask.
"So you would?"
Jack looked away again, his voice dropping in volume. "Well, I have like you for a while..."
Phobia was just as taken aback as Jack had been a little a while ago. A tiny squeak had sounded from her mouth as she gazed back at him through her mask.
"W-Would it mean anything, if I told you that I liked you too?" She almost whispered.
The awkward atmosphere seemed to be replaced by a more relaxed one.
"May I have permission to kiss you?" The male asked politely, holding out his hand for her to take. She nodded, allowing her fingers to lace with his. He leaned in, their faces just a few inches away from each other. They both closed their eyes, waiting for the sweet taste of passionate, love filled kiss.
But they had seemed to forgotten that you can't kiss whilst wearing a mask.
A loud cracking noise happened as both masks hit each other, and each person had to draw back and place their hands over their faces.