Author Topic: Jeff The Killer and Jane Are Still Two People by Ben Fugman  (Read 37 times)

Slimebeast

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Three years ago on a web site called Archive Of Our Own a user known as mrskittycatmeow666 posted a story called Jeff The Killer And Jane Are Two People.
https://archiveofourown.org/works/4035769/chapters/9076030#workskin
I do not know this writer and cannot pretend to understand the process that lead her to write such a thing, but I know I'm picking it up right now because I'm bored, lonely and frustrated. Someone once told me that's the place fiction comes from. And if fiction means writing down things that aren't true in the hopes that it will entertain someone then that's what this is.
So here goes, it's a a story, it's about two people, and they're comin', they're comin' this way, and they have knives, and fire extinguishers, and what are you gonna do when two people are still commin', and they're comming to get you, yeah, that's right, with a vengence, and then you find out they're in a mansion and it's Slendy's mansion and you know it's it the middle of the forest, and it's a mansion, and it's in the middle of every forest in the world, yeah, just try to wrap your noodle around that. You'll need a pretty big noodle, 'cause it's every forest in the world, and it's two people and they're still armed and they're comin' for you, 'cause whatever you did, they know, 'cause they're two people, and.... They're just two people, it's Jeff The Killer and Jane. Here they come!



Can You Feel That?

In a dark, dark wood there is a dark, dark house, in the dark, dark house lives a man in a dark, dark suit, he is a man; because he wears a suit, walks on two legs, hugs with two arms, and urinates with one penis. He is not a man; because he talks and eats with no mouth, he sees and hears with no eye nor ear, he fights with six vaporous tentacles, and procreates with no testicles, exponentially reducing the population with each life he lends at interest. This story is not about him, you'd imagine there'd be some interesting stories about a man like that, there are fewer than you'd expect. This story is about two people, who happen to be guests in his house.

**POV Jeff**

Oh shit!

No he didn't! Yes, he did! That dickless, gutless, eyless punk really just threw down the gauntlet!

"She doesn't belong to you, man!" Jack yells at you. Pretty impressive volume for a guy without vocal chords. "She's her own person! Nobody belongs to you!"

Can you feel it yet?

That thick black ichor of anger, welling up inside you. But are you mad at this bag of bones, minus the bag, at everything he represents? Probably not, you're not mad at anyone just mad, stark raving mad, killing mad, of course Jane belongs to you, she was made for you, just you! You're Jeff The Killer, every future psychopath wants to ship their OCs with you, but you only want Jane. She should be goddamn greatful!

The dickless wonder's droning isn't making you any less angry, however. "Y'know, man, you're pretty hung up on appearances, with that smile, like, cut into your face like that, with... And the whole stitched hoody thing, how many of those things do you have? I saw you hand stitching a stack of them the other day, like, what the heck man, didn't DKNY start selling the official JTK hoodie now? You're still up in here, in the mansion every weekend making your own."

Seriously! He freakin' had to take it there, didn't he, or does he even freaking know?! Bonehead aint got a brain, after all. "I can't afford the DKNY ones! Is that what you want me to say!? I'm freakin' poor! And it's not like they paid me for licensing rights. I should kill you just for mentioning that shit!"

"You know, man, you're really giving off a lot aggression right now, that's the whole problem with being named after something you do, everybody, including you expects that to be the main thing you do!" You know one thing, it's definitely what you wanna do to Jack Skeleton, right about now. That thick syrupy blood of Ares is reaching critical mass inside you. You know it.

"Yeah I'm Jeff The Killer, and I do, in fact, expect killing to be the main thing I do, and from the time I earned that name, to the time I moved into this crummy mansion it was the main thing I did, but now it seems like the main thing I do is play tea party with a bunch of gutless dummies!" That's telling him.

"At least I've got a spine!" Jack declares. You aren't about to refute that statement. "You know what they used to call me, man? They used to call me Regular Jack. It was really embarrassing, I was walkin around, and keep in mind, at my school there was, like, a doezen Jacks, there was a Fat Jack, a Skinny Jack, Slow Jack, Quick Jack, Bottle Stealer Jack, Dependable Jack, Shifty Jack, Cowboy Hat Jack (who didn't wear a cowboy hat every day, it was really weird, some days he wore a leather face mask) and there I was just walkin' aroun'd, just Regular Jack and people'd be like, '"Oh jeez, I wonder what he gets up to, oh wait, I don't care, 'cause he's just plain ol' boring ol' Regular Jack, let's go see what Skateboard Jack is doing."' anyway one day I found out, came up and found... I was on the school bus and it crashed, I lost both my eyes at once, and then I found out I wasn't just Regular Jack anymore, and, when I saw both of my eyes cut most of the way in half, popped out of my head on the peice of glass that had stabbed all the way into my brain, when I saw that I realized that I don't need no eyes to be able to see. People put too much stock into organs and having them, so, yeah, I killed a lot of people , but that didn't make me Jack The Killer, 'cause I already wasn't just Regular Jack," you know he'll just go on like this, if someone doesn't stop him. "Being Eyeless Jack was alright, but it was a bit limiting, I knew I could live without other organs. And one day I decided that my skin was just holding me back, and I didn't need a bunch of skin around me, clingin' to me, holdin' me back. I feel a lot freer and a lot lighter, y'know without all that muscle and blood holdin' me down." How many times has he told this story? Aren't you getting sick of it?

"That's enough!" You shout, slapping Jack Skeleton, backhand, across the face. His skull goes flying across the room and lands in the corner.

"Seroiously, man!?" His muffled voice calls out from across the room. "You knocked my freakin' skull off, man! That's a low blow."


"Technically," you retort, "it was a high blow."

"Oh Jees!" Ben declares, from the doorway. "You shouldn't have done that!" He continues.

You feel a tap on your shoulder, you start to whirl around, your eyes are met with a wall of red, it's the fire extinguisher that Jane is hitting you in the head with. Red fades to black.



It's Supper Time!

You know how sometimes you get into this situation where there are no good options, so you start examining all the bad options, it doesn't make the bad options look any better, but the worse the bad options look the more likely you are to choose one of the lesser or greater evils. Sometimes, though, you have no options, whatsoever, at all, that's it, no fatalism involved, just somebody else choosing what happens to you next, and not offering you a choice in the matter.

**POV Jane**

You shudders as you drops the massive red metal cylender to the wood pannel floor. Jeff lays on the floor the left side of his wan face painted as red as the fire extinguisher you struck him with, of course, it isn't paint, it's Jeff's blood.

Jack Skeleton is in the corner feeling around for his skull. "No, over here!" The skull shouts. His body continues feeling around the corner slowly and meticulously.

"Oh my gods! I'm so sorry Jeff did that to you, Jack!" You proclaim, rushing over to him you scoops up his skull and hands it to him.

"It's okay Jane, really, it's not that hard to knock my skull off. I don't have any cartilage or anything holding me together, so I'm used to stuff like this happening." The skull says in a reasuring tone, cradled in Jack's hands. You aren't sure you feel reassured.

"Um... Do you need help putting it back on?" You ask, raising an eyebrow.

"Nah, it's fine. Don't even trip." Jack assures you. "I'm a skeleton, I know how to put my own skull on."

Slendy enters the room from a door that literally was not there before he opened it, and literlally is not there after he closes it. You suppose he's always doing things like that.

"Good news everyone!" Slendy delclares, peaking his fingers together. "It's Supper Time!"

Jeff has risen to his knees wiping blood off his left eye with his sleeve. "Supper time? I can't eat anything right now, I've gotta go to a hospital."

"Why? So Doctor Apathy can tell you to take two and call him in the morning." Slendy's brow visibly furrows. "No, we are going to sit down and have supper together, and look eachother in the eyes, like a real family!" The irony of the statement is not lost on you.

"Honestly," Jack's skull injects, still cradled in his hands, "I don't think you and I have looked eachother in the eyes once the entire time I've been here."

"It's a figure of speach!" Slendy megaphones. "Now everyone pull yourselves together and get to the dining room, Jane, please return the fire extinguisher to the emergency hook. We keep a tidy house."

You comply with your host's demands you wouln't want to upset The Slenderman. You picks up the red cylender still dripping equally red with jeff's blood looking as if the very essence of the fire extinguisher is dripping off onto the floor. The same red essence, as if splattered from the fire exinguisher onto Jeff's face drips off of him as he shuffles, grumbling to the dining room, followed by Jack trying to click his skull into place while walking. You hang up the fire extinguisher, and join the misfit train.

To your surprise there is already several people at the long dining table. A redhead with a watch for an eye sits on the left of the far end and a frizzy haired blonde who was mumbling something about skin, pinching her wrist, sits on the right. Between them, in the far end seat, sat an alasken huskie, with a grin even bigger than Jeff's. A creature with incredibly long fingers sat beside the blonde, and NegMouse sat beside the redhead. Next from Negmouse was a shiny statue-like Ronald McDonald, and beside The Rake? was The Goat Man? Anyway next to R. McD there was a very tall brunette with blood dripping from her empty eye sockets across from her a foam apple with a face was supported by a rusty stick, beside the apple was a tall black man in a gas mask, trench coat, and fedora. Sitting across from him was a pink pony with a frizzy mane, and three balloons painted? on its flank (not a cartoon pony, an actual pony, smell and all, yet somehow not an actual pony, because she's sitting upright in a chair and sipping tea from a cup held, in the forelock of her mane!?!?) It's a lot for your mind to process. As you're entering, the seat beside the pony is filling with black and white smoke, issuing from a box under the chair, the smoke solidifies into a cachina-like clown dressed in all black and white with black and white feathered shoulders and a long black and white cone nose, his hair seems to be bright red, dyed black. A man in a blue windbraker with a horrifically burnt face sits across from the clown, and barbed wire wraps around the chair beside him and pulls a man in a mirrored mask up from under the table, and sets him in the chair. Across from the man in the mirror mask, a swarm of spiders form themselves into a humanoid shape.  Ben takes the seat beside Spiders Man? as a pefect pixilated Sonic The Hegehog appeares, pixel by pixel, in the seat oposite him. Sonic's eyes turn black, and though he's made up of massive 1' x 1' pixels hyper realistic blood starts streaming from his eyes, even though it doesn't look real, like the blood still streaming down Jeff's face it does seem as if you touched Sonic's cheek you would get blood on your hand, Jack sits down beside the digital hedgehog, and Jeff takes the end seat oppsite the smiling dog, leaving only the seat to Jeff's left, between him and Ben for you. Reluctantly you take the seat.

Slendy enters the dining room, again from a door that isn't there. You'd love to know how he does that trick. "What're you doin' sittin' at the table?!" He demands of the grinning dog, which promptly hops out of the seat, and scampers over to your end of the room, yiping.

"It's okay doggie." Jeff says scratching it behind the ears. The dog pants happily, turns in a circle and chomps down on Jack's femur, he doesn't seem to notice.

"How come you kicked the dog off the table, but not the pony?" You ask. The pony instantly spits out entirety more tea than she could posdibly have just sipped.

Slendy appears bemused. "Jane Elizabeth Arkensaw, meet Pinkamena Diane Pie. A felow civilized citizen of the cosmos."

"You can just call me Pinkie Pie, heeee!" The pony grins at you, improbably wide.

"I can talk too you know, spread the word!" The smiling dog telepaths at everyone, to the acknowledgement of no one.

"Alright, dearly beloved," Slendy announces, taking his seat, after brushing it off. "We have gathered here for the consumption of mass quantities, let this supper of the Creepypasta Mansion Society commence. L.J. will you do the honors?" Slendy looks? at the clown.

"Why certainy!" the clown conceeds and snaps his fingers, sections of liver heart, and various cuts of raw meat appear on everyone's plates.

"Are you sure this is organic?" The blonde woman inquisits, just audibly.

"Why of course!" The clown replies, "They are organs, you know!"

"L.J.!" Slendy scolds, "We aren't barbarians!" With a snap of Slendy's long fingers the plates quickly blaze with fire, and the raw meat becomes cooked.

"Wait!" The clown interceeds, "I forgot, I'm a vegetarian!" With a snap of his fingers all the cooked meat is replaced with raw vegetables.

"Still," slendy rasps, "we are not barbarians!" Slendy snaps his fingers, the plates blaze up again, the leafy vegetables are reduced to ash.

Everyone stares at the ash piles on their plates. "How about we order out," Jeff suggests, "I hear Silly's Pizza is pretty good." You're wondering why someone doesn't just magic up some more food, does it have to come from somewhere?

A gust of wind whistles through the room blowing away all the piles of ash.

"It's okay!" Pinkie Pie shouts, "I brought CUPCAKES!!" The pink pony slams down metal trays of cupcakes, you swear weren't in the room before, with her hoof, in front of everyone, breaking some of the ceramic plates.

The cupcakes turn out to be pretty good, though a bit stringy, and you notice there's some glitter and confetti mixed in, but you're not gonna trip about it, at least it's something to eat. You're not really sure how Pinkie Pie fits into Creepypasta Mansion Society, how could a cute pink pony spend her time with all these ruthless killers, including you?



Desert, Anyone?

There comes a time, not always, but sometimes, and everytime that time comes, you panic, you freeze, you choke up. It's a tense situation, and you don't know what to do, so you wind up doing what could be interpreted as something, but essentially equates to nothing, or negative of nothing, making the situation worse than if you had done litterally nothing, whoever you are, if you're reading this, this statement applies to you, you can lie to me, but I won't hear you, and you can't lie to yourself, which is the only person who will hear you if you try to refute my statement right now, unless you're reading this in a room with other people, in which case, they might think you're crazy. Who am I? Obviously I'm an omniscient third person narrator, that's how I know the above statement applies to you, but you're probably wondering what our two melee struck young lovers are getting up to at this very moment, I of course, know, and would be glad to tell you, just one of the many perks of being an omniscient narrator. Get my drift?

Jane is happily chomping on a red velvet, ponyfat cupcake she does not know the secret ingredients were harvested from Pinkie Pie's murdered intelligent pony friends, would it give her pause if she did, it's hard to say. After all, is a pony a person, I of course, knowing everything, know the answers to both questions, but do not feel obliged to share them with you.

Jeff rolls a cupcake to and fro on his tray. The flow of blood from the gash on his left eyebrow has slowed to a trickle.

Jack is nibbling rapidly at a cupcake, crumbs and bits of frosting cascade down his ribcage. "Boy, these are some real stick to your ribs muffins." he comments.

Jane giggles.

"Har har!" Jeff proclaims, in a forced monotone, "it is funny because he is a skeleton."

"So true!" Ben snickers quaveringly tossing a whole cupcake into his hippopotamusine maw, paper and all and grinds it a couple of times between his pestlesque teeth before forcing it down his bottleneck of a gullet.

Mr. Barbed sits practically motionless as his wires bring up bits of cupcake in front of the hole in his mask, from where he inhales them.

Spiders-Man casualy rests one hand on the tray while a parade of aracnids deliver colorful cupcake crumbs up to the separation in the rithing mass of smaller spiders that constitutes a mouth in what passes for Spiders-Man's face.

Barbie picks a peice of tensil out of the fuchsia frosting. "These deffinitely aren't organic." She holds up the sparkly bit for all to see, she is right, indeed, for the cakes contain meal from corn that was magically modified to prevent para-sprite infestations, and the tensil itself is elemental silver, not especially unhealthy, but deffinitely not an organic material. "I don't think they'll be good for my complexion."

Natale licks some frosting tentatively. "They certainly don't taste like organs."

Laughing Jack carefully dissects a cupcake with a scalpel and forceps, revealing a tiny heart inside, strange, nobody else found anything like that. Laughing Jack makes an arc of electricity between his thumb and index finger, shocks the tiny heart, and it starts to beat. He snatches up the still beating heart and pops it in his mouth. "They taste plenty organic to me." He says, before belching up a cloud of glitter.

Fuchsia drool drips out of the corner of Jimmy's mouth, and runs down his windbreaker.

The Goatman suppords himself with hands on the table, as he leans his face down to the tray munching at cupcakes.

Happy Appy greedily shoves all the cupcakes from his tray into his mouth and starts to choke. Forenzik pats Happy on the back,  he caughs up all the papers in the form of animate paper butterflys, which spiral around the room.

Photo Negative Mickey Mouse repeatedly shoves one cupcake after another against the white fabric screen in his mask, to no avail. The cupcakes just fall back to his tray squashed, and he keeps trying.

The Rake crouches on his chair, curling and uncurling his fingers, tiny bites dissapear from his cupcakes with no apparent cause or order.

The Ronald McDonald statue eats the cupcakes like a normal person, excep that he holds up each one beside his face and smiles beforehand.

Slendy picks each cupcake up in front of where his mouth isn't he makes a sound, as of someone pretending to chomp, each time the cupcake decreases in size from within, until ony the paper is left, which he lets casually float down to the tray.

Marana spoons up chunks of cupcake wit her long pinkie nails and sucks them up, with pursed lips, chewing each bit thoroughly, before audibly swallowing.

Pinky Pie crams three cupcakes at a time into her snout, for each three she picks up on her hoof, only one goes missing from her tray.

Each cupcake Sonic.exe touches quickly depixelates away and his cheeks can breifly be seen expanding and contracting as of a chewing motion, seen as one cheek, the other, or both, depending on the angle of the observer.

Smile.dog laps up crumbs out of Jack Skeleton's pelvis.

"So," Jane asks, timidly, "Is this everyone?"

"Whatever do you mean?" Slendy asks, as another empty cupcake paper floats down to his tray.

"Is this the whole Creepypasta Mansion Society?" Jane clarifies her inquiry.

"My dear girl..." Slendy condescends, "This mansion exists in every forest in the world. I am hosting supper right now in every version of the mansion in this time zone."

"I'm attending five of them right now!" Laughing Jack interrupts. "And considdering dropping in late to a few more."

Slendy crinkles his brow, but quickly releases it. "Why, you're lucky you're even attending supper with the same person you came in with."

If sitting next to Jeff is luck, Jane isn't sure it's the good kind. Not that she has much experience with that kind of luck. If she wanted to change her cards, she'd have to fabricate her own luck.

"So," Wendy slent on, "The short answer is, no, this is most assuredly not everyone. There are still plenty of interesting folks to meet, here at Creepypasta Mansion, and so many different forests and towns you can visit."

The Rake nods in ascension.

"You can learn new tricks, from the best, and master your trade." NegMouse exuberates through his frosting caked screen. Then places his gloved hands around his neckline, "Wanna see my head come off?"

Slendy shakes his head, with an audible swish. NegMouse dejectedly drops his hands to his sides. "Aww shucks!" The Inverted Character sighs.

Smile.dog telekinets NegMouse's squished cupcakes across the room and drops them into his bowl, then begins chowing down on them.

NegMouse looks at his empty tray and shrugs, sighing more deeply. Barbie and Natale exchange a glance, and begin piling their cupcakes onto NegMouse's tray.

An old Dutch clock on the wall pops out a mechanical bird, which announces, "Cookoo!" It winds back inside with a mechanical twist that sounds like, "you're all" then pops out again proclaiming, "Cookoo!" Bizarrely, Natale's tongue mirrors the action, mechanical cuckoo and all.

"Alright," Slendy flourishes his right hand high in the air, that's all the time we have for supper, everyone, please clear out the dining room so it can be moved on to the next time zone." Slendy gets up and leaves through a regular door, closing it behind him, and everyone else begin to file out.



And What Happened After

Events don't always play out in the way you'd expect, someimes they don't play out in the order you'd expect, but sometimes they play out in the exact sequence you would expect if you would just draw on the knowledge base you already have to know what to expect.

**POV Jane**

Slendy is such a commanding presence, it hadn't occurred to you before to ask, "Um... Does anybody else find it unusual that we just had dinner, and then supper?"

"N-nope," Ben studders, "pretty usual. It'st hiw they did it beck in deh shire." He snorts, in the manner peculiar to euphoria enthusiasts.

"Are you a Hobbit?" You ask, genuinely curious.

"Yes," Jeff interrupts, grabbing you around the waiste from behind, and poking his chin uncomfortably into your shoulder, "he is a Hobbit, and he has hairy feet."

"No!" Ben defends, "I'm not a H-h-hobbit."

"What's that outfit, then." You ask, shrugging out of Jeff's embrace.

"Clearely," Ben circumstantiates, "these are Kokiri clothing."

"Wat's a Kokiri?" You ask, doubly confused.

"Wait!" Jeff announces, with a wild flourish, "I know this one! So, Ben comes from a word affected by a virus called Xorax-"

"Wrong!" Ben grumbles.

"Okay," Jeff continues unperturbed, "Volvox then, something like that, anyway it started turning all the adults into fish people and all the newborns into rock people, so the govenment found a way to halt the aging of adolescents and-"

"No! No! No!" Ben stamps his foot, "None of that is remotely accurate!"

"A' o' 'o..." Jeff gesticulates, shrinking back.

"I just realized..." You put an idex finger to the part of your lower lip that has lip on it. "I don't remember what dinner was."

"Of course you don't!" Jeff rises, cackling, to a haughtier posture, "Jack made it. No wonder you were so hungry at supper." Jeff resumes cackling, so much that he nearly doubles over.

"Jeff!" You scold him, "when did you become such a bully?"

Jeff straightens up, "Listen toots, if I've learned one thing in this world, it's that you're either a bully, or you get bullied."

"Oh sure!" You roll your eyes, "That's a great moral to the story of your life!"

"Grrr-r-row!" Jeff's eyes widen, (if that's possible,) "Maybe we should relocate this discussion to our bedroom."

"I'm not going to any bed room with you, Jeff!" You roars.

"Well you sure as hell aren't going to any bedroom with anyone else!" Jeff rages.

With stark suddenness the smiling dog leaps onto Jack Skeleton, knocking him to the floor between you and Jeff cutting the tension, as though with a knife.

Jack's skull pops off and rolls several times, before coming to rest upright on the flat of the lower jaw, "Stop! Down boy! Down Smile Dog!" Jack's skull shouts, hopping and clattering hilariously as he speaks, but the dog seems only interested in licking te frosting remnants off Jack's ribs and spine. "Oh I remember... Fetch, Smile Dog!"

With that the dog lept from jack's desacated body bounded over to the helpless skull and gingerly snaped it up between his massive jaws. Bushy tailed, The dog trots back and depositsthe skull in jacks hands. He sticks it back on as he stands up. The dog turns in several circles and looks up at Jack, panting expectantly.

"Sorry boy." Jack apologizes. "I don't have anything else for you to fetch."

"Oh I dunno," Jeff sneers, "you are made of bones, you could just throw some of those..."

Can a skull look flustered? In any case Jack's does, but you can't tell if that's really the case. Or it's just the natural skullyness of his skull, reflecting in his tone. "Y'know what Jeff, I've had to put myself together more than enough times today, why don't we take and... Why don't we throw some of your bones?!"

"Hey, back off!" Jeff swings an arm up defensively. "I need my bones to hold my flesh up! Well, most of my flesh." He cocks his head and winks? at you over Jack's shoulder. (It's hard to call it a wink, since he has no eyelids, but the right side of his face twitches like a wink, and his right eye narrows compared to the left.) In any case you don'te even want to think about what he's talking about right now.

"Yall are no fun!" Smiledog telepaths at everyone, including you, and he turns and walks down the hallway, with his tail swishing in the air.

The hallway?!

Didn't this door go to the living room before?!

You look back up the halway the way you came from, you know you haven't come that far since leaving the dining room, but all you see is a seemingly infinite hallway trailing off in both directions, you don't see anyone else from the supper, or at all, besides Ben, Jack, Jeff, the dog, and, if you look down, you. You realize you have to consciously look down to be able to see yourself, The only sensations you're aware of are the burning, unaturally hot burning, in your side where Jeff stabbed you, and the stinging in your cheeks where your lips used to end.

"Where's everyone else?!" You demand.

"Maybe they left through different doors?" Jeff shrugs.

Yeah right! What door? You can't see any doors anywhere in any direction. "What happened to the living room?!" You shriek, "Where are we?!"

"I know!" Jeff proclaims. "We're in Creepypasta Mansion!" He poses, grinning like a maniac, holding his thumb and index finger in the shape of a checkmark to the left of his face, leaning with his left knee bent.

Yo look from Jeff, to Ben, to Jack, to Smiledog walking away, to Jack, to Ben, back to Jeff still holding that goofy pose. You can't take it anymore. Slendy coming through doors that weren't there before and a clown materilizing out of smoke were fun party gags, a talking pink pony, you can live with that, but disappearing living rooms, and being trapped in a never ending hallway with Jeff and these two doormats. That's just too much to deal with! You run, you don't know what else to do.

"Jane! Don't run!" Jeff calls after you, "That's the worst thing you could possibly do!"

"No running in the halls..." Ben adds meekly.

You don't care what any one, or the rules, have to say about it, you runs, you doesn't look back.

"Spread the word!" Smiledog telepaths at you as you pass him, "Wooof!" He adds aloud.

You runs faster and faster, you closes your eyes, you doesn't hear anyone running after you. You are flying, free, you run like the wind, you are the wind, and suddenly, you aren't.

You run into something soft and warm. You collide with a warm fluffy mass you sink into it and colide more jarringly with a rock hard silky smooth object, which gives way to the impact and toples over and over with you cradled inside it before skidding to a stop underneath you.

You open your eyes and find yourself face to face with a fluffy fuchsia pony tale, wrapped between two upward jutting pink hind legs.

"Ehem!" Says Pinkie Pie's head, from behind you, supported by her neck, cranining up from between your legs.

There is, of course, an entire intact pony underneath you, but this certainly isn't the usual way one is mounted, you're not even sure how Pinkie Pie feels about being mounted. Wouldn't it mean something different where she's from anyway, in that case maybe this would be the way to do it, if you were to do it. Not that you're thinking about it, right? You heave yourself off the pastel penequine, and slowly pick yourself up.

She goes through a quick routine getting upright and straightened out, you aren't sure if a chorus of servo noises emit from her joints, or you imagine them.

"Fancy us running into eachother twice in one night." She exuberates, bouncing on her hooves.

"I'm pretty sure that's the first time we've actually run into eachother." You joke, shakily.

"Oooh are you not the same Jane Arkensaw I was at supper with tonight?" She asked batting her eyes, like ponies do.

"No... I mean yes... I mean I'm her... Me, but... Nevermind." Great now she'll be as confused as you. "Wait, are there multiple mes?"

"Hmmm..." She ponders, "I don't think I've met any, at least not since MiiTomo shut down."

You have no idea what that answer was, and you're not prepared to dissect it. "Are there multiple yous?" You should know not to expect any clearer an answer.

"Psht, of cours, I saw a whole herd of yews just the other day." Is this pony jus trying to make jokes out of your questions? Her answers are inemicably confounding.

You are sure you are not imagining the sound of Jeff's slippons rhythmically slapping on the tiles of the hallway. He's started running after you.

"I've got to go." You starts runming as you offer your excuse to the pink pony. You runs a lttle slower with your eyes wide open, she canters up beside you, easy as pie.

"Are we running in the halls?" She beams.

"I..." You gasp, "guess so..."

"Weeee!" She thrills shrilly, "hop on!" She snatches you by the wrist with her forelock, swings you up onto her bach and takes off down the hallway at a gallup. You can't tell if you're holding onto her mane, or it's holding onto your hands but you feel so safe now. Jeff will never catch you at this speed.



The Door That Didn't Go Anywhere

If it were up to you this would be over by now, there would've been a time skip or some other cheap trick, any kind of lazy device to bring this nightmare to a close, you wonder, why, in this day and age, is something like this allowed to go on, this can't be serious, can it? How do you differentiate between serious or not serious, is there some formula that has to be followed to either make it serious, or to make it a joke you can appreciate? What if puzzle peices are being handed to you, one at a time, and though you can't see what they form, you expect it will be a complete picture? What if you know the picture being assembled isn't to your specific taste, say, you're mostly into realism and you're already seeing the corner of a melting clock, or some such surreal thing, are you gonna give up on the puzzle? Just because it's not your favorite style, does that mean you can't have fun putting it together? These are all questions. That was a statement.

**POV Ben**

You tried to warn Jane not to run in the hallway, you tried to warn Jeff too. Jeff already learned the hard way about running in halls once, now they've both disappeared down the hall, and you're stuck here alone with CMS's premier weight loss guru.

"Where'd they--" Jack starts.

"Wh-why-y-y d-d-does shi-i-i-it likethis onlyever ha-a-pe-pen tomeeeeee-eeeee-EE?!" Echos throughout the hallway, from both sides of you, in Jeff's voice.

"Yep," you conclude, "Jeff fell into hypothetical space again."

"What about..." Jack pauses, jaw agape, you almost hear a gasp, but you asume it's just the wind in the hallway whistling through his bones, since he has no lungs or larynx to gasp with.... But then how does he talk? "Jane?" He completes his thought as awkwardly as he paused it.

"Look, Jane will be fine as long as she paces herself, and doesn't try to outrun the hallway." You try to assure him, failing to assure yourself, but why should you care? "As for Jeff, we can be sure he's nowhere, for an indefinite period, as a matter of fact, what Jeff? As far as we're concerned, he doesn't exist right now."

"So," Jack's cheekbones seem to sag. "What should we do?"

"What do you mean asking me a ridiculous question like that?" You shoot him a stony glare. "We are in a hallway! There's only one thing to do, we're just-- we're gonna keep walking on down this hallway-- proceeding at a leasurely pace and-- hey! Don't give me that look! We're just gonna keep going until we get where we're going."

"But," Jack starts again, "how will we find Jane, we have to make sure Jane's okay!" If he had a brain, or any other thinking organ's, you'd say he has a one track mind. As is, you can't figure what his angle is in this, he obviously seems intent on getting Jane alone, but he's a skeleton, what's he gonna do, bone her? Well, even with no flesh to make it apparent there's no denying the boner he has for her...

"I guess..." You conjecture, "If where she is is where we're going, then... Yes?" You don't even try to sound convincing. If it were up to you you would be going to your room to get on the N64.

Jack flashes puppydog eyes, well as much as someone without eyes or cheeks can do. It's not your problem what happens to Jane, and as for Jeff, good riddance, so you do exactly what you should have done since entering this hallway, you proceed at a leisurely pace. Jack follows you, but you can see the tension in his shoulder blades.

Finally, you come to a door. It's a regular door. Not the door you were hoping for. You wanted to reach the big black patterened double doors of the dormatory wing. Instead here it is, a goddamn regular door, leading to a goddamn common room.

"Well," you huff in frustration, "looks like we're going through this regular door. Could to lead to any of billions of varients of any of the six hundred and sixty six stardard common rooms in the mansion."

"I know what a regular door is, Brainiac!" Jack indignates. "Do you think it will take us to Jane?"

"It's a door." You glare blankly. "It won't take us anywhere." You turn the nob and open the door a crack, "We have to go through it. If Jane happens to be on the other side will you shut up?"

"I make no promises." Jack turns up his skeletal nose.

You open the door and tiptoe through, followed by Jack's rickety bones. You've entered the upper level of a dusty old library the shelves are packed with all sorts of reading materials, from small leaflets, to zines, to paperback novels, to thick encyclopedic texts, and heavy leather-bound tomes; all mostly written in modern American English. You notice something else right away, the shelves are plastered with advertisements, posters, banners, cardboard stand-up's at the edges. Even the numerous book marks were all printed with advertisements, mostly for producs or services, completely irrelevant to you.

"What is this place?" Jack clatteres.

"I think we're in Creepypasta dot com." You say. "It wasn't always like this."

"But why would Jane, or anyone, ever come here?" There's ol' one track Jack for ya.

"Look around Jack? Do you see Jane anywhere around here?" You inquire in what you think is a very lawyerly tone, but it isn't. "Do you see anyone around here, do you see the door we came in through, do you see any doors? So... Look it's really not important where Jane, or Anyone else is right now, what's important is that we find out why we are in this garishly decorated library, and how to get out."


"What?!" Jack shrieks. "There's no doors, Ben?!" You thought you made that pretty clear, but who knows what goes through the space in Jack's skull. "I thought about finding Jane the whole way here, so shouldn't we have found her?" It's probably mostly air.

"Halways don't take you where you want to be, they just take you where you're going." You mansplain. "If it had gone where I wanted, it would have lead to the dormatory wing."

"So," Jack puts his hands on his hip bones and taps his foot. "What you're saying is you messed it up, Ben, you threw us off by not thinking about Jane."

"Hey man, we can't all of us just always think about Jane all the time, just 'cause you're playing chase after the new girl doesn't meen you have to drag me along." You lecture. "For all I knew, Jane was going to the dormatory wing too."

"Oh yeah, sure!" Jack glowers, "That's exactly where she'd be headed after that argument with Jeff." He sarcastically vexasperates.

Your gonna say something extremely cruel that you'll regret later, suddenly you're interrupted by a loud sound like crinkling tin, now an automaton chittering ticks along in the background as Pop Goes The Weasel plays on a rusty whining music box cylinder. You and Jack look around, it's coming from behind a standup cardboard ad for the Jumbo Jack cheeseburger. As the note for Pop plays a worn tin box rolls out from behind the ad, propelled by the motion of its lid popping open. Black and white smoke rises from the box an begins to spiral over and uner into a point and solidifies into a swirly black and white cone, which becomes Lauging Jack's nose, as the smoke transforms into the rest of his body behind it.

"Heyo!"shouts the monchrome clown. "What's black and white, read all over, covered in blood, and found in a library?"

You hold your right hand under your chin with your index finger pointed up your left cheek and your thumb pointed up your right, looking at him sideways, with your right eyebrow raised and your lips screwd up in an antismirk. An expression you actually invinted.

"I give up." Jack shrugs his shoulder blades. "What is it?"

"This!" Laughing Jack declares brandishing a blood soaked, rolled up, copy of this week's New York Times, picked up from behind the Jumbo Jack ad. "Also I accept your surrender." He tosses away the newspaper, you don't hear it land for a long time, then you hear a distant crash, shattering glass a trash can rolling, the yowl of an alley cat. You can't see where the paper went, it's most likely irrelevant.

"Since when have you asked riddles?" You inquisit.

"I'm trying new material!" Laughing jack bursts defensively.

"Yeah, don't quit your day job." Jack cracks. Laughing Jack stares at him, in an over-exaggerated pout. His hair and feathers even slump. After a moment crickets chirp, a wicked jagged grin spreads over Laughing Jack's black and white face, his glossy teeth are down right reflective.

"Say," Laughing Jack gleefulluly querys, "how did you gents get in here?" The stripes on his sleeves ripple electrically.

"Just through a regular door." Jack shrugs again.

"Funny..." Laughing Jack notes, with mock concern, but no apparent touch of ironic humor. "I don't see any around here." His grin widens.

"Yeah," Jack affirms, "I guess it regularly dissapears. We can't see any doors out, here or downstairs, but, y'see, we've  to get outa here and find Jane."

"Oh," Laughing Jack grins wider still, the paint on his cheeks cracking, to reveal more paint underneath, he's a clown through and through. "You can't see any other doors?" You can tell he's messing with you somehow.

Before you can say anything Jack cuts in with, "Do you know how to get to where Jane is, from here?"

"Well," the clown props his chin up on his index knuckle, "it would take much too long to get to where she is right now from here, she'd be gone by the time we got there. I do just so happen to know where she'll be at nine pm and a rout to get us from here to there by then." His smile is so wide he looks like Venom in the old Spider-Man cartoons. You grimace, just a bit.

"Nine?" Jack exclaims, "That's hours from now!"

"It would take even longer to get to where she is now." Laughing Jack explains, "and she wond't be there by then, so it would be a waste of time." His grin sags into a sharky grimace. "Not that it makes any difference to me which way we go."

"So." You cross your arms. "What's this way you're talking about?" You've caught on that where Jane should be by nine pm is the dormatory wing. And even if it takes a couple hours, you'll be there by bedtime, or in your case, since you don't sleep, time to get on the N64

"Well..." The colorless clown comences, "are you familliar with the three basic door types in Creepypasta Mansion?"

"Of course!" You huff. "There are regular doors, plain looking doors which open into common rooms at scheduled intervals, dormatory doors, which lead to extradimensional spaces where corporial residents can build sterile living environments, and special doors which have a singular character to them, and always lead directly into their specific rooms, but usually lead to a hallway when exiting the room they are associated with through them."

"Exactly right, professor egghead you get an A plus for the day, but what can you tell me about the fourth type of doors?" Lauguing Jack asked in a cringe inducing tone.

"Do you mean fixed, or transient?" You ask. You never could figure out the numbering order.

"Transient doors are the fifth type, obviously." Laughing Jack gloats.

"Well, I think fixed doods have something to do with geographic residents..." You attempt.

"That's right, Dr. Smartypants." Laughing Jack sneers. "Fixed doors have something to do with geographic residents, also more often than not fixed doors are disguised. Notice anything around here that doesn't quite belong?"

You scan the room quickly and can't help noticing a single wall shelf in the lower level that isn't plastered in ads. "Oh, right." You snicker. "What library would be complete without a secret bookcase passageway?" You notice for the first time that there are no stairs. "How do we get down?" You trepidate.

"Like this!" Jack swings over the railing and climes down a book shelf, just like a skeleton.

You hoist yourself over the edge, landing atop a book shelf which cracks undeder your weight you crash down through every level of the shelf, breaking your fall by breaking it.

Laughing Jack hums a tune that could be London Bridge Is Falling Down, or Mary Had A Little Lamb, but the tempo doesn't quite match either, as he slowly descends on a little round art deco elevator you hadn't noticed, because of all the ads pasted to it.

"Okay," you snarl, "we're down here, now what?"

"You just have to pull out the right book, silly." Laughing Jack strikes an efiminate taunting pose.

You can hear Jack Skeleton muttering, "Eenie, meenie, meinie, moe!" He pulls a book and goes flying into a bookshelf along with the copy of By The Fire's Light, knocking off his right leg, and left arm.

"That's the wrong book!" Cautions Laughing Jack. "The one you need to pull is titled, No End House: The Complete Travesty."

While Jack is putting himself back together you wal up to the book shelf and scan across pointing with your finger there No End House: The Comple... Yup, you pull on the book. Immediately you fall back, the book spins in midair and lands open in your face with a Russian dating ad bookmark across your eyes.

"Wow! Can't you read?" Asks Laughing Jack. "That says The Complete Trilogy." He saunters up to the shelf and pulls on a book the same size and colors as the one you pulled.

The shelf swings out into a dry grassy stories nightscape. You walk outside followed by the pair of Jacks. The book shelf is attached to a patchy door made of rough cut planks on a dingy little one story shack that couldn't possibly have contained the library inside it. Inside had smelled like hardwoods and orange oil, and ink and paper. Outside smells like cat urine, dust and pine needles the contrast is undeniable. The door rattles shut Jack turns around and opens it revealing the dark musty interior of the shack.

"No turning back now." You say, with full resolve. A dirt path leads from the edge of the forest to a modest roomy looking two story house decorated for Halloween, above the porch stoop the legend reads No End House. The door is makrd with the nember 1. "So, where do we go from here?"

"We have to go inside!" Declares Lauging Jack. "The only way out is through the house."

"Through the house?!" Jack exclaims. "I seem to remember that not going so well in The Page Master."

Laughing Jack is already mountimg the stoop, so Jack bites the bullet and follows him. And you're curious, of course, you've never been to No End House before, and you've been meaning to visit.



Wh̰̮̭͞a͉͈̝̤͝ṱ̨͎̜ ̨̼͎̟̱ḭ̧̼̭n̙̤̥̬̖̦ ̬t̡̺̩̱̲͉̩h͉̦͓ͅẹ̲̻̭͘ ̦̹̦͢wo̥̦͎̙̙͚r̸͍̞̠ḻ̵̣͎̖͙d̙ ̥̣̹̰̼̦̩̕e̱̳v̸ȩ̠̦̦͎r͍̳̼̖̞̣͈͠ ̖̠͕̖͖̬͞ḅ̦̼͍͍̯̣e̬͚ca̶̝̲̫m̲̣̭e̴̪͎̘̤̯̲ ͉o̟̼̻f̫̯̞͙̘̹ ̬͖͎͕̩̮s̞͈̟̫͞w̪̻͎͈̭͖̼e̹̮̠̲ͅe͇̙̥̟̲͠ͅt͔̰̯ J̩̗͡a̶͍̬̬͓̖͉͕n͖ͅe͉͔̻̲̲?

How often do you find yourself fully satisfied with the outcome of events? How often do you observe that the plans you make come to fruition? If you're like most people, the answer is probably rarely, or never. But have you ever wondered why? Is it just that reality is random, and completely unaffected by your will? Or could it be that there is an entire universe parallel to our own, populated by shadow people working against you, and every other live human scurrying around making plans. What are shadow people? You ask. Well, I'll tell you.

Shadow people are shadows, or remnants, of human beings who lived and died badly. I know what you're thinking, "G-g-g-ghosts?!" Well, approximately, shadow people are often mistaken for poltergeist or demons. Shadow people emerge from the darkness, and to the darkness they return, and are capable of draging things with them, matter, energy, data, and more. The shadow people serve a common agenda, that agenda is set by the evil gods of the antiverse, in which they dwell. The most malevolent, if not the most powerful of these evil gods is known as Zalgo. Zalgo commands legions of shadow people, black eyed children, maniacs, psychopaths, and monsters. The elder gods have slept for eons, in that time the lesser outer gods have gained significant across the board advantages, while meaningless compared with the elder gods' ability to rewrite cosmic law on a whim, the lesser outer  gods understand cosmic law well enough to take spurious advantage of the systems in place, none are more diligent at this than the evil gods of the antiverse, and none is more ambitious than Zalgo, and the suffering of humans feeds Zalgo, and the death of the sufferers increases the ranks of his shadow people.

Given all I've just told you, you must be wondering if there is anything you can do about it. Don't worry, there isn't. Now then, can't you feel a tremendous weight lifting off your shoulders? So what should you do. I'd like to tell you that's entirely up to you, but I really enjoy lying to you, so there is that.

But I'm being rude, you came here to hear about Jane Arkensaw didn't you, and here I am, wasting your time and mine trying to explain the order of the universes. Oh well that's life for you, you are usually unable to achive your desires, though it is ocasionally possible, with effort, to obtain that which is necessary to your survival. As miserable as that may seem in theory it is nothing in comparison with the practical inversion of this principle. Just imagine if all your petty desires came to you with relative ease, but you were generally starved of the essential elements which allow you to function. Do you now feel more comfortable as concerns the status-quo? Probably not.

*POV Hatman*

Your eyes glow red beneath the brim of your solid black fedora. You are here for a purpose! Darkness flows down from your shoulders spreading and covering the ground like a black mist. You approach the wall of the allyway. The white chalk in your hand gleams pink in the light of your eyes. You must use it! Shinjuku is full of places like this, thin places, places where your chalk is not just chalk. He has sent you here, you will do his will! It is time! Bending like a spring you draw a line up from the ground, straight up seven feet, across four and down seven then a small circle on your left. The door looks so small to you, but of course it is bigger than a regular door, but it only reaches what would be your sternum, if you had bones. You know you can pass with ease through a door a fraction of the size with ease, still it looks small to you, but for them, it will be more than sufficient. You knock three times on the cold cement, it feels so warm against your black knuckles. With a crack that would sound sickening to some, which you find oddly satisfying, the section of cement wall swings outward, as golden light floods out of the aperture you receed into the shadows from whence you emerged, your mission comple.

*POV Pinkamena*

You gallop hard, but steady, you know this feeling well, you watch intentely as the sections fall into place in front of you crossing just as they click into place.

"I think Jeff fell..." Says Jane looking behind you.

"He should be fine, I think..." You nay cheerily, and snort. You feel Jane shiver.

Suddenly a section of halway lands in front of you that dead ends in a concrete wall. You stop galloping as quickly as you can. Lean back on your haunches and skid on your hooves, sending a trail of sparks cascading from your shoes. You're skidding too fast, you're going to hit the wall, you clamp your eyes shut tight, a sickening crack sounds, you're sure you must have hit the wall, but as one of your eyes pops open you see a section of the wall swing away fom you, and your skid ends you up in a dark alley on the other side of the wall, you spin around on the courser blacktop of the ally, so that you are facing the door you slid through. With a rusty creak the door slams shut, and a curious white powder falls away from the surface.

"What just happened?" Jane asks dizzily.

"Beats me..." You reply groggily.

"Where are we?" She demands, regaining her composure. "Is this part of the mansion?"

"Um..." You start, "I don't think so... Looks like..." You scan the patches of street visible at either end of the alley, you can see small various storefronts, most of the signage appears to be in katakana, or kanji, with one quaint little cafee labled in hiragana. "Japanese Land..." You posit.

*POV Jeff*

You've been walking for a long, long time, you're feeling kinda tired. Proceeding at a leisurely pace, with Jack and Ben in tow. Jack's footsteps sound heavier than usual, and Ben's sound somewhat metallic. Maybe it's this hallway, nothing makes sense in hallways.

"Don't worry Jane, I'm on my way!" Jack calls out daftly.

"You know she probably can't here you, right, airforbrains?" You hiss.

"Whoah, hey that's one darned big, big old concrete wall there, blockin' the hallway there." Jack changes the subject.

"What the freak?!" You freak out a bit. "That was not there!" The hallway in fron of you is indeed blocked off completely by a concrete barrier, before there was just infinite hallway stretching out before you, now there's this concrete wall, and it's not even perpendicular to the hallway it's at a slight but nonetheless disturbingly off angle, enough that an whole tile is exposed to your far right, while only a half a tile is exposed to your far left. You really wish you could straighten it somehow...

There is a door drawn on the wall, in white chalk. "What the heck kind of door is that?!" You demand.

Ben throws up upturned palms at either side if his face.

"Beats me!" Jack proclaims. "Spirit door?"

You narrow your bulbous eyes at the skeletal scatterbrain. "That's not even a type of door."

Jack mimics Ben's gesture.

"Wait!" You declare. "I saw this in a movie!" You walk up to the wall and knock three times. Nothing seems to happen.

"You didn't actually think that was gonna work, did you?" Jack taunts, suddenly a low rumbling emits from the wall.

"Uh oh!" Ben obnoxiously anounces. "You,shouldn't have done that." With a gutwrenching crack the marked section of wall swings into the hallway, swatting you aside like a bug. Still standing, you stumble around dazedly. "You've met with a terrible fate, haven't you?"

"Get - a new - line!" You huff.

"Go. To. Sleep!" The statue mocks, you just glare. Were Jack and Ben always this big of boneheads? Probably... You don't have time to question it now.

You step through the the rough jagged doorway, followed by the two tagalongs. The other side seems to be a factory of some kind the entire area smells of industrial lubricants and sour cheese. The concrete wall slams shut behind you, it is perfectly sealed. The factory seems to produce juice boxes filled with a white liquid, you assume it's milk, but the labels are printed in Kanji and Katakana, and you can't read Japanese, you can just barely tell it apart from Mandarin Chinese.

You grab a finished box off the assembly line stab the straw in, and take a sip. "I... Think it's milk..." You toss the box to Jack. "Here!" You anounce, "Helps build strong bones." You jest.

If a skeleton can wear an expression of malice, then Jack has one strapped on, if not, then never mind.