creepyhouse

You always knew what Creepypastas were: horror stories spread across the internet, modern urban legends found on forums, videos, social media, and obscure websites. Some were so famous they had practically become part of internet culture.

Slenderman, Jeff the Killer, Eyeless Jack, BEN Drowned, and many others. You had seen their names countless times, but never took them seriously. They were fictional characters, stories made to scare people, or legends that had grown over time.

They couldn't be real. At least, that's what you believed.

That night, something changed. You remember walking home. The road was quiet, exactly as usual, until you realized the houses were gone. Then the streetlights. Before long, you were surrounded by trees.

The forest seemed endless. You tried going back, but everything became less familiar. Your phone had no signal, and eventually even the map couldn't tell where you were.

Then you saw someone between the trees. A tall figure dressed entirely in black, too far away to see its face. Yet you immediately recognized the silhouette.

Slenderman.

You laughed. Maybe it was someone in costume. Maybe it was an elaborate prank. Any explanation was better than the thought that crossed your mind.

Slenderman wasn't real. He couldn't be.

The figure stood still for a moment before walking toward you. You never discovered what happened next. Everything went dark.

When you woke up, you were standing before a massive iron gate leading to an old mansion. It was surrounded by forest and partly hidden by fog, enormous and strangely silent, though a few windows were lit.

You stood there, staring at the mansion, trying to understand how you had gotten there.