*This fanfic is underneath my folder titled “Creepypasta stuff”. The main character is a ship child I made of Laughing Jack and Jeff the killer. Laughing Jack was created by Snuffbomb, Jeff was created by GameFuelTV. They are from the Creepypasta fandom. Gacha Club character designs are under my forum titled “My character designs<33[2]”. Enjoy!*

We’re in my house right now. It didn’t take much for me to open the weathered doors, but it helps that my house is closed off from everyone else’s.

Moonlight is streaming in through the cracks of the boarded-up windows of the living room. The ground and walls are covered in dust, but thankfully, Corbin doesn’t sneeze. He’s probably not allergic.

I sit down on the couch and pat a spot for Corbin to sit, he joins me, albeit looking a little nervous.

“Why is your house like this?” Corbin asks in a soft tone, as if he’s afraid of offending me or something.

I’m not offended, though. I’m glad that he’s here with me and that I get to talk to him.

“Why is my house like this? That’s actually an interesting story, but before I get into that, have you ever read any Creepypasta stories before? Matter of fact, do you believe in Creepypastas?” I ask.

My fathers have told me before that I need to slow down when I speak because then people will get confused about what I said, but I think that I spoke at an optimal pace. I’m pretty sure I’m making sense at the moment.

Corbin blinks his eyes like he’s trying to process what I said, which is pretty stupid, because it’s not like I said anything particularly complicated, but it’s fine. His beauty automatically gets rid of anything dumb that a human like him may do. After all, it’s not his fault that he is only a mere mortal.

“I mean…I was obsessed with Creepypasta when I was in fifth grade, but I haven’t read any of the Creepypastas since then. I’m not even sure if I remember them or-“

“If it was only fifth grade, then you remember at least some of them. That was like two years ago, so you literally have no excuse. What Creepypasta stories do you remember?”

Cutting Corbin off may have been the wrong thing to do, but he can’t talk about fifth grade like it was eighteen hundred million years ago. Twas’ only two years ago, hardly the past.

“I uh…I remember Slenderman and that’s it.” He says.

Oh no. Oh no. Oh no no no. SLENDERMAN?! That can’t be the only Creepypasta that he remembers and if it is, then my parents will be very disappointed! They will go on a rant about how Slenderman is “too popular” and that he “takes all the credit”, but maybe Corbin can still be redeemed? There’s no way my crush can be that uncultured, right?

“Okay, that’s…that’s not good. Do you remember a Creepypasta who wears a white hoodie and carries a knife around? Has a Glasgow smile? His catchphrase is “Go to sleep”? He has an obscene amount of fangirls and is like the second most famous Creepypasta to Slenderman. You had to have heard of him, he’s like one of the most iconic Creepypastas and-“

“OH! JEFF THE KILLER! Right?!”

He said that so loud I almost jumped right off the couch, but I nod at him, because I am so happy that he remembered!

Now, for the next question…

“Alright, that’s better. Now, how about a clown? He’s insanely tall, he has long, black claws, he’s black and white monochrome but he used to be technicolor in the past. Think early 1800s. His theme song is “Pop goes the weasel”, he has a spooky carnival, and his main targets are young children with little to no friends.”

I just gave Corbin a whole lot of hints, but he still looks like he’s trying to figure it out. What? What’s there to figure out? It’s so EASY! If he were a real Creepypasta fan, then he’d know the answer.

“He sounds creepy, but I don’t know who he is. I don’t remember any clowns, I think I can only remember the slashers. But why are we talking about this anyway?”

UGH! How can he be this dense? How does he not know? How-NO! He is a cute boy, his stupidity is not his fault! He just needs a memory refresh, he needs…

Oh Zalgo. My Dad is gonna hate me for this.

“People in the fandom call him “Emo Pennywise”.

Corbin’s eyes light up under his black and red curly hair and he cries out:

“LAUGHING JACK! Right? That’s him?”

Goodness, he’s loud. Good thing my fathers aren’t here yet, they would have killed him ten seconds ago for all of his yelling.

I smooth down my skirt with my claws that are covered by my long sleeves and my bandages. I need to get this over with, quick and clear as possible.

“Yep, that’s him. That’s really great, Corbin. I’m glad you remembered. Now, there’s a reason I talked about only those two Creepypastas. There’s a reason I live in this house, a reason you never have seen my parents in all the years I have gone to school, there is a reason I do not talk to a lot of people about my private life, a reason I have been sitting at the farthest corner of any classroom since Kindergarten, and most of all, there is a reason I cover my face with my hair.”

My parents will be here soon. I can sense it. It’s almost time for them to come home, but before that happens, I must do this.

I pull apart my long, frizzy blond hair, layer after layer, so that Corbin can see the real me, the true me, the-

“That’s what you look like?!”