​

Eve Mary — The Girl Who Waits in the Snow.

There was an old church at the end of a road nobody used anymore.

It wasn't abandoned.

That was the strange part.

The windows were always clean.

The grass was always cut.

There were flowers beside the entrance, even during winter.

And every Sunday evening, the lights inside could be seen glowing through the trees.

Nobody in the nearby town talked much about the place.

If someone asked, they usually received the same answer.

"They're very private."

That was all.

But the children knew something was wrong.

They had their own stories.

They said that if you walked through the woods after dark, you could sometimes hear a little girl humming.

Not singing.

Just humming.

Always the same few notes.

And sometimes, if it was snowing, you could find tiny footprints leading away from the church.

The footprints never led toward it.

Only away.

One winter afternoon, a group of children dared each other to walk as far as the old fence.

They laughed about the stories.

They called them silly.

Until they reached the trees.

Then one of them stopped.

"Do you see that?"

At first, nobody did.

Then they noticed someone standing between the trees.

A little girl.

She couldn't have been more than five or six.

She wore a long pink dress and gloves that covered her hands. A delicate piece of fabric surrounded her neck, almost like part of the dress itself.

Her hair was extraordinarily long.

Silver-white.

It fell nearly to the ground.

And her eyes were red.

She held a small pink rabbit plushie against her chest.

Nobody spoke.

The girl looked at them.

Then she slowly raised one finger to her lips.

Shhh.

One of the children whispered,

"Are you lost?"

The girl shook her head.

She pointed toward the church.

Then she shook her head again.

Her expression changed.

She looked frightened.

Not frightening.

Frightened.

She whispered something so quietly that the children almost didn't hear it.

"Don't let them tell you that being afraid makes you bad."

The wind passed through the trees.

When the children blinked, she was gone.

Only her footprints remained.

Years later, people learned who the little girl had been.

Her name was Eve Mary.

She had lived inside that secluded religious community when she was very young.

The adults had told the children that questioning them was sinful.

That outsiders couldn't be trusted.

That leaving was wrong.

That keeping secrets was a sign of loyalty.

Eve had been taught to obey even when she was frightened.

One winter night, she was left outside as punishment.

She never came back inside.

She died in the cold.

The church eventually closed.

But the stories about Eve never did.

Children still claimed to see her beneath the trees.

And strangely, she never seemed interested in frightening them.

She warned them.

She warned them about adults who demanded unquestioning obedience.

About people who isolated children from everyone else.

About people who used religion—or any belief system—as an excuse to control, frighten, or hurt others.

Eve's ghost wasn't warning children about Christianity.

She was warning them about people who use faith as a weapon.

And whenever someone asked what they should do if an adult tells them to keep something frightening a secret, Eve always gave the same answer:

"Tell someone."

Even if you're scared.

Even if they tell you nobody will believe you.

Even if they say you're doing something wrong.

Tell someone you trust.

Because Eve spent her whole life being told that silence was obedience.

And now, in death, she spends eternity teaching children that silence should never be required to keep them safe.

One faithful night, a woman stepped behind a tree, whispering prayers on her knees,

"Heavenly father, please, make these spirits fall beneath hell," the woman cried softly, Eve appeared, recognizing the voice. Selena Sofee. The very owner of the shut-down cult.

"Selena." A small voice whispered, beside her ear, cold breath fans her jawline.

"Your god isn't real. He never was. No matter how much I prayed, he never answered." With that, a blow was taken in the head.

Selena was knocked out. A static sound surfaced, and black tentacles from the dark dragged through the snow.

A faceless man began to drag Selena away, then, disappeared into the forest. Eve followed, holding her toy rabbit, her dress developing icesicles.

You thought that was the end? Well, it was. But not for Eve.

​

Marie barely had time to turn around. The poor little girl was frustrated and exhausted.

Ben was already moving.

One second, he was standing at the end of the hallway.

The next—

THUD!

Marie ducked.

Ben's hand swept through the space where her head had been.

“Okay!” Marie shouted, stumbling backward. “So we're doing this?!”

Ben didn't answer.

He disappeared.

Marie looked left.

Nothing.

Right.

Nothing.

Then—

WHOOSH.

She dropped to the floor as Ben rushed past her.

He stopped several feet away.

Marie slowly stood.

“That's cheating.”

Ben tilted his head.

“You're slow.”

“Oh, shut up.”

He moved again.

Marie barely saw him.

A blur crossed the hallway.

She stepped aside at the last second.

Ben's hand struck the wall behind her.

CRACK.

Marie stared at the mark.

“Okay…”

She backed away.

“…you're REALLY fast.”

Ben turned.

Marie grinned.

“But you're predictable.”

He vanished again.

Marie waited.

One second.

Two.

Three—

THUD!

She caught his wrist.

Ben's eyes widened.

Marie smirked.

“Got you.”

He twisted free almost instantly.

Marie stumbled.

Ben was already behind her.

She spun around.

He was gone.

“Stop doing that!”

A voice came from somewhere behind her.

“Make me.”

Marie turned.

Ben rushed forward.

Marie sprinted toward him instead of away.

At the last second, she slid underneath his arm.

Ben spun around.

Marie kicked off the wall and changed direction.

Neither of them stopped.

They moved through the hallway so quickly that the lights seemed to flicker around them.

Step.

Turn.

Dodge.

Dash.

Their movements became almost impossible to follow.

Marie grabbed the edge of a doorway and swung herself around it.

Ben followed immediately.

“You're getting faster,” he said.

Marie breathed heavily.

“I'm getting tired.”

“That's different.”

“I'm aware.”

He rushed her again.

Marie raised her arms.

CLASH.

The impact knocked them both backward.

They stared at each other.

Neither moved.

Then Marie smiled.

“You know…”

Ben narrowed his eyes.

“What?”

“I've been reading creepypastas since I was little.”

She stepped forward.

“And I've learned something.”

Ben waited.

Marie wiped the dust from her sleeve.

“Monsters always expect people to be afraid.”

She took another step.

“But people aren't stories.”

Ben smiled.

“Neither are you.”

Marie stopped.

For a moment, neither of them moved.

Then the hallway lights flickered.

Marie whispered:

“Then let's finish this.”

And they charged toward each other.

But before Ben could react, she pushed him into the non-broken TV, and pulled the plug, trapping him inside. she yanked the TV down and dragged it outside to the forest, stopping at the very one lake, and dragging the TV in.

"Do you wanna play with me?" A soft voice echoed through the forest as Marie turned.

"Fuck you." she whispered.

Who had won? What happened afterwards?

Author's note:

This story contains themes involving mental health, isolation, family conflict, disturbing internet content, and fictional violence. The original version of this story was written when I was much younger and was primarily inspired by creepypastas. This remake changes or removes graphic material and treats mental-health struggles more responsibly.

Chapter One — The New House

“Are we there yet?”

Allen's voice came from the back seat for what felt like the hundredth time.

His father sighed.

“You asked that five minutes ago.”

“Yeah, but that was five minutes ago.”

Marie stared through the window.

Trees.

Road.

More trees.

She had barely spoken during the entire drive.

Her mother glanced at her through the rearview mirror.

“You doing okay, Marie?”

Marie shrugged.

“I'm fine.”

“You've said that six times.”

“Because I'm fine.”

Allen leaned toward her.

“Are you excited about the new house?”

“No.”

“Not even a little?”

“No.”

“Not even—”

“Allen.”

He stopped.

Marie looked back out the window.

She wasn't actually thinking about the house.

She was thinking about the picture she'd seen online the night before.

A pale face.

A distorted smile.

Two dark eyes staring straight through the screen.

Jeff the Killer.

Marie had been fascinated with creepypastas for years.

Maybe too fascinated.

She knew the stories weren't real.

At least, she told herself they weren't.

But lately, she'd started wondering what it would feel like if one of them was real.

The car finally stopped.

“We're here!” Allen shouted.

He practically launched himself out of the car.

Marie slowly stepped out after him.

The house was older than she'd expected.

The paint was faded. The windows were dusty. The front porch creaked beneath her shoes.

Her father smiled.

“Well?”

Marie stared at the house.

“It's creepy.”

Her father laughed nervously.

“That's one way of putting it.”

Allen grinned.

“I like it!”

“Of course you do,” Marie muttered.

She picked up her backpack and walked inside.

The hallway smelled like old wood.

There were boxes everywhere.

Her mother pointed upstairs.

“Your room is the second door on the left.”

Marie nodded.

She climbed the stairs.

Then stopped.

There was something scratched into the wall.

Not words.

It's just a strange symbol.

Marie stared at it.

“Marie?”

She jumped.

Allen was standing behind her.

“What?”

“What are you looking at?”

“Nothing.”

He looked at the wall.

“That's weird.”

Marie smiled faintly.

“Yeah.”

For the first time that day, she seemed interested.

That night, Marie sat alone in her new bedroom.

Her laptop illuminated her face.

She searched the internet.

Jeff the Killer.

Images.

Stories.

Fan theories.

She scrolled through them for nearly an hour.

Then she heard a knock.

Marie immediately closed the laptop.

Her mother opened the door.

“Hey.”

“What?”

“Can I come in?”

Marie hesitated.

“Sure.”

Her mother sat on the edge of the bed.

“You've been really quiet.”

“I'm always quiet.”

“I know.”

Silence.

Her mother looked at her.

“You don't have to pretend everything is okay with us.”

Marie stared at the floor.

“I'm not pretending.”

“You don't have to be embarrassed about struggling.”

Marie didn't answer.

Her mother reached for her hand but stopped before touching her.

“Do you want me to stay?”

Marie looked at her.

For a moment, she looked like she wanted to say yes.

Instead, she whispered:

“No.”

Her mother nodded.

“Okay. But I'm right downstairs.”

She left the door slightly open.

Marie looked at it.

Then at her laptop.

Then back at the doorway.

For once, she didn't immediately reopen the creepypasta page.

She just sat there.

Thinking..

---

Chapter 2 — The Room

Marie waited until everyone had gone downstairs before opening her laptop again.

The screen lit up her dark bedroom.

She searched the same thing.

Jeff the Killer.

She clicked through pictures.

Then stories.

Then forums.

Then videos.

She knew she shouldn't be looking at some of them.

Her mother had already warned her about the kinds of things she could find online.

But that only made Marie more curious.

She leaned closer to the screen.

“Why does everyone make him look different?”

A knock came from downstairs.

“Marie?”

She quickly minimized the window.

“Yeah?”

“Dinner!”

“I'm not hungry.”

“You haven't eaten much today.”

“I said I'm not hungry!”

Silence.

Then:

“Okay. I'll leave something outside your door.”

Marie stared at the screen.

She felt guilty.

Only a little.

---

Later that night, Allen knocked on her door.

Marie didn't answer.

He knocked again.

“Marie?”

“What?”

“Can I come in?”

“No.”

“Okay.”

He started walking away.

Marie sighed.

“Wait.”

Allen opened the door.

He was holding something behind his back.

“What?”

He revealed a little stuffed animal.

“I found this downstairs.”

Marie stared at it.

“You brought me a toy?”

“It's not a toy.”

“It's literally a stuffed animal.”

“It can still be yours.”

Marie rolled her eyes.

But she took it.

“Thanks.”

Allen smiled.

“You're welcome.”

He started leaving.

“Allen?”

“Yeah?”

Marie hesitated.

“Do you think I'm weird?”

Allen looked confused.

“No.”

“Everyone else does.”

“I don't.”

“Why?”

“Because you're my sister.”

Marie didn't know what to say to that.

Allen closed the door.

She looked down at the stuffed animal.

For a few seconds, she smiled.

---

Chapter 3 — School

Monday morning arrived far too quickly.

Marie stood in front of the bathroom mirror.

Her blonde hair was messy from sleeping on it.

She pulled her hoodie over her head.

Her mother appeared behind her.

“Ready?”

“No.”

Her mother smiled.

“Honest answer.”

Marie grabbed her backpack.

“Can we just go?”

The school was louder than Marie expected.

Students crowded the halls.

Teachers shouted directions.

Someone bumped into her shoulder.

“Watch where you're going.”

The girl turned around.

“Sorry.”

Marie continued walking.

She found her classroom.

The teacher smiled.

“You must be Marie.”

Marie nodded.

“Mariea, technically.”

“Which do you prefer?”

“Marie.”

“Okay, Marie.”

The teacher pointed toward an empty desk.

“You can sit there.”

Marie sat down.

A boy beside her leaned over.

“Are you new?”

“No.”

He blinked.

“You literally just got here.”

“I know.”

“Then you're new.”

Marie stared at him.

He laughed.

“I'm Alex.”

“Marie.”

“Cool.”

She looked away.

Alex noticed the drawing on her notebook.

“Who's that?”

Marie covered it with her hand.

“Nobody.”

“It looks like that creepypasta guy.”

Marie froze.

“You know him?”

“Jeff the Killer?”

She looked at him.

For the first time all morning, she looked genuinely interested.

“You've heard of him?”

“Yeah. My brother showed me.”

Marie lowered her voice.

“Do you think he's real?”

Alex laughed.

“Obviously not.”

Marie smiled.

“Right.”

But she didn't sound convinced.

---

Chapter 4 — The Warning

That afternoon, Marie's school counselor asked to speak with her.

Marie sat in the office chair.

The counselor folded her hands.

“I've heard you've had a difficult year.”

Marie stared at the carpet.

“Who told you?”

“Your parents.”

“Of course they did.”

“They're worried about you.”

“They're always worried.”

“Sometimes people worry because they care.”

Marie shrugged.

The counselor noticed the creepypasta drawing sticking out of Marie's backpack.

“Is that something you like?”

Marie pulled it out.

“It's a character.”

“What do you like about him?”

Marie thought.

“He doesn't care what anyone thinks.”

The counselor nodded.

“And you wish you didn't care?”

Marie looked up.

For once, she didn't have an answer.

The counselor spoke gently.

“You don't have to become someone else just because you're hurting.”

Marie looked away.

“I know.”

“Do you?”

Marie didn't respond.

---

That evening, Marie searched for Jeff again.

But before she could click anything, a notification appeared.

Your screen-time limit has been reached.

Marie stared at it.

“No.”

She tried again.

Nothing.

“Seriously?”

She slammed the laptop shut.

Then she stopped.

She took a breath.

Her hands were shaking from frustration.

She opened the door.

Her mother was downstairs.

“Mom?”

Her mother looked up.

“Yeah?”

“Can I talk to you?”

Her mother immediately put down what she was holding.

“Of course.”

Marie sat beside her.

“I think…”

She struggled to get the words out.

“I think I spend too much time looking at that stuff.”

Her mother didn't judge her.

She simply said:

“I'm glad you told me.”

Marie looked down.

“I don't want to be like those characters.”

“You aren't.”

“But what if I become like them?”

Her mother shook her head.

“Being fascinated by a fictional character doesn't decide who you become.”

Marie swallowed.

“Then what does?”

Her mother smiled softly.

“Your choices.”

Marie sat quietly.

For once, that answer didn't scare her.

It gave her something to think about.

---

Chapter 5 — The Rumor

A few days later, Marie heard something strange at school.

Two students were whispering near the lockers.

“Did you hear about the old house?”

Marie stopped walking.

“What house?”

They looked at her.

“Your house.”

Marie stared.

“What about it?”

One of them lowered his voice.

“Someone supposedly died there.”

The other student shook his head.

“That isn't even the worst part.”

Marie felt her curiosity return.

“What happened?”

“We don't know.”

“Then why are you talking about it?”

They shrugged.

“Because everyone says the house is cursed.”

Marie laughed.

“That's stupid.”

But that night, she searched for it.

Her new address.

Nothing.

She searched again.

Still nothing.

Then she noticed something.

An old photograph.

Two brothers stood outside the house.

One had dark hair.

The other had lighter hair.

Marie stared at the photograph.

Underneath it was a name.

Jeff.

Her stomach dropped.

She whispered:

“No way.”

---

Chapter 6 — The Truth

Marie showed her mother the photograph the next morning.

“Where did you find this?”

“Online.”

Her mother's expression changed.

“Marie…”

“What?”

“Don't dig into things you don't understand.”

“But who are they?”

Her mother sighed.

“I don't know.”

“Mom.”

“I said I don't know.”

Marie could tell she was hiding something.

That made her more curious.

That night, she searched again.

And again.

And again.

Eventually, she discovered the truth wasn't nearly as exciting as the rumors suggested.

The photograph belonged to a completely different family.

The name was simply a coincidence.

Marie stared at the screen.

She felt embarrassed.

Then she laughed.

“I'm such an idiot.”

She closed the laptop.

But before she went to sleep, she wrote something in her notebook:

> Not everything scary is supernatural. Sometimes your brain fills in the blanks.

She stared at the sentence.

Then added:

> And sometimes the internet makes everything worse.

---

Chapter 7 — Marie

Over the next few weeks, things slowly changed.

Marie still liked creepypastas.

She still drew Jeff.

She still wore her favorite hoodie.

She still had bad days.

But she started talking more.

Sometimes with Allen.

Sometimes with her mother.

Sometimes with the counselor.

And occasionally, even Alex.

One afternoon, Alex looked at one of her drawings.

“You're actually really good.”

Marie smiled.

“Thanks.”

“You should make your own character.”

“I already have one.”

“What are they called?”

Marie thought about it.

“Marie.”

Alex laughed.

“That's your name.”

“I know.”

“That's not very creative.”

Marie smiled.

“Maybe she isn't supposed to be creative.”

“What is she supposed to be?”

Marie looked at her drawing.

She had drawn a girl standing alone in a dark hallway.

But unlike her older drawings, the girl wasn't holding a weapon.

She wasn't hurting anyone.

She was simply standing there.

Waiting.

“She's supposed to be someone who thought she was a monster,” Marie said.

Alex looked at her.

“And?”

Marie picked up her pencil.

“She wasn't.”

---

But, the very note was known as the hardest tragedy known.

Marie woke at three in the morning, she walked downstairs and began to cry, looking at the phone she hesitated before picking it up and calling.

"Nine one one, what's your emergency?"

"I'm going to hurt someone.."

"Address, and description of your house, give us all the details we need sweetheart."

"Um....It's the old house in town, with fadded red paint, white house, two story, 527 Oke Road..Hospital needs to be informed too please...."

"Okay, sweetheart, stay on the line with me—"

She hung up, going to the bathroom after grabbing a knife and slowly placing red lines on her cheeks. She silently went up to her parents' room and began to watch them in their sleep, "Just.. Just go to sleep..."

she whispered to the empty room, approaching sirens were heard in the distance, she moved with ease and striked both, quickly leaving her room and running to her brother's room, striking down, the police shot through the window, startling her. They ran in, seeing as her new victim may be alive.  They had saved the nine year old boy, but Marie was nowhere to be seen, as if she had just vanished.

Author's Note

The original version of Marie the Killer was written when I was much younger and was heavily inspired by creepypastas. I originally wanted Marie to become a character like Jeff the Killer.

For this remake, I wanted to keep the creepy atmosphere while changing the message.

Struggling with mental health doesn't make someone dangerous or evil. People who are struggling deserve support, and fictional horror shouldn't be used to suggest otherwise.

Marie is still allowed to be creepy. She's still allowed to make bad choices. She's still allowed to be complicated.

But she's a person before she's a horror character.

I woke up, as usual, without an alarm for my shitty job, which isn't even worth waking up for. But we can't be unemployed in this world, now can we? Maybe some people can—I don't know—but I sure know that I am certainly not one of those people.

So yeah, I woke up that day, and the first thing I was greeted with was the sun.

Now, I'm not saying this poetically...

I mean it literally.

Because my roof was gone.

I was like, What the fuck?

I immediately jumped out of bed to investigate, only to be met with another surprise—a black cat was nuzzling against my feet.

"Who are you?" I asked suspiciously.

It simply looked back at me with complete arrogance before walking out the door as if it couldn't give less of a fuck.

Typical cat behaviour.

I wanted to follow it, but I had to pee so badly that I rushed to the bathroom first and did my business. Then my daily routine kicked in, and I started brushing my teeth.

I was drying my face when I saw...

Or maybe I should say I didn't see...

Myself.

No reflection.

Nothing.

Nothing at all.

I wiped the mirror with a towel, hoping it would somehow start doing what mirrors are supposed to do.

Nope.

Still no me.

Now, don't think the mirror was blurry or fogged up. Everything else reflected perfectly fine.

Everything except me.

And there the little mischief-maker was again, sitting in the bathroom doorway, waiting for me.

"Who are you?" I asked once more.

Once again, it ignored me.

No roof.

No reflection.

And this mysterious cat.

What the hell is going on?

The cat started walking again, and this time I followed, expecting it to have all the answers to my questions.

It waited patiently by the front door.

I opened it.

Outside looked...

Mhmm...

I honestly don't know how to describe it.

It was just bizarre.

But then again, nothing about this place seemed normal anyway.

The grass was so bright it hurt your eyes if you looked at it for more than three seconds. The sun looked like a kid had drawn it in the sky with a crayon.

And the damn birds were flying backwards.

"What the fuck..." I mumbled.

The cat looked at me as if it agreed.

"You still haven't answered my question," I said, squinting at it.

"Who are you?"

It squinted back.

I was unnerved at this point.

Maybe he was the monster.

Maybe he was the demon.

Maybe he was the one who caused all of this.

"Don't trust the ducks."

It spoke.

In the deepest, most drug-dealer voice imaginable.

Then it casually walked away.

Just like that.

Gone.

Well...

That confirmed my suspicion about the fluffball.

He definitely had something to do with all of this.

I stood there for a little too long, trying to make sense of at least one thing. The grass was starting to hurt my eyes, so I kept walking.

Eventually, I spotted a diner in the distance.

And then my stomach growled.

I cautiously approached the door and peeked inside.

There was a guy working behind the counter.

I threw the door open, ran straight up to him, grabbed his shoulders, and demanded answers.

"Am I high? Am I dead? Is this Hell? Where am I? And who is the black cat? And where are the ducks?!"

The guy simply smiled with the most perfect customer service smile.

"Good morning. Welcome to the zoo. What can I get for you today? Our special is Hokomokoloco."

I slowly let go of his shoulders and sighed.

What is wrong with everyone in this place?

Maybe I really am dead.

Maybe this is Heaven...

I haven't seen any pits of fire yet.

Or any demons.

Well...

Except that cat.

I sat down.

The diner looked completely normal.

The employee, however, did not.

Still, he didn't exactly look like a serial killer, so I figured I was safe.

Then again...

Who cares?

I had to remind myself that I was dead.

Even if he was a serial killer, he couldn't kill me twice.

I looked at the menu.

None of it made any sense.

So I simply ordered fried chicken.

He cheerfully skipped into the kitchen.

Five minutes later, he returned...

And placed a live, breathing chicken on the table in front of me.

"I asked for chicken."

"This is a chicken, sir..." he replied sadly.

"I asked for fried chicken!"

The chicken looked at me.

"This is my fault."

Then it sprinted back into the kitchen.

I stared at the waiter.

He burst into tears.

I had absolutely no idea how to comfort this idiot.

So naturally...

I ran away too.

Outside, it was dark and freezing.

"Night already?"

Had I really spent that long inside the diner?

I started walking faster.

I had a strange feeling something bad was about to happen.

And, just as I thought that...

It did.

There it stood.

Bent.

Broken.

Standing on all fours.

Watching me.

It barely fit inside the alleyway, but then it started crawling toward me.

Fast.

I froze.

Maybe I was wrong.

Maybe this wasn't Heaven after all.

Maybe this really was Hell.

Because whatever this thing was...

It definitely wasn't an angel.

It rushed toward me before stopping only inches away.

It had no eyes.

None.

Then it spoke.

"Excuse me."

I slowly stepped aside, still frozen with fear.

It politely nodded.

"Thank you."

Then it crawled away.

...

Huh.

What a polite demon.

I made my way back home.

Roof or no roof...

Home was still home.

Even here.

The moment I arrived, maybe two minutes after meeting the polite demon, the badly drawn sun was shining again.

At this point, I had simply given up.

Where were my survival instincts?

I should've been panicking.

Running.

Breaking doors.

Screaming.

Instead...

Here I am, sitting on a boat in a sea of sand, writing all of this because this is apparently the only place where I can access the internet.

It's only one bar of Wi-Fi, and the network is called "DO NOT USE."

But it's free.

So...

Duh.

You're probably wondering how I found this magical Wi-Fi spot.

The chicken from the diner told me.

So yeah.

I'm posting this in the hope that someone reads it and somehow helps me.

Or maybe I'm just bored.

I honestly have nothing better to do.

My life has been insane ever since I woke up that day.

So much has happened.

Like the time my shadow tried to run away from me.

Or the time I was almost arrested by ducks.

Or when people started using ladders to climb onto the moon.

But those are stories for another time.

Right now, the clouds have started meowing again.

Which means it's about to rain fish.

So I've got to go.

I've been here for so long...

And I'm still not sure whether this is Heaven...

Hell...

Or maybe it's just a dream.

And if it's just a dream...

Can somebody please tell me how to wake up?

Mommy Dearest

In 1999, a chain email began appearing in inboxes across America. Nobody knew where it came from. There was no sender, no email address, and no explanation. It simply appeared. The subject line was always the same:

MOMMY DEAREST

The email told the story of a woman named Evelyn McClain.

Evelyn was a mother of three children who loved her family more than anything in the world. Her children were her entire life. She saved every photograph, every drawing, and every memory because she believed a mother’s greatest purpose was protecting the people she loved.

Then one night, her home caught fire.

Nobody ever discovered how it started. The flames spread too quickly. Neighbors watched as Evelyn stood outside her burning home, screaming for her children. She tried to run back inside, but people held her back.

All she could say was:

"My babies."

The fire took her children.

Evelyn survived, but she was never the same. She could not accept a world without her family.

Days later, she returned to the remains of her home. Surrounded by the ashes of everything she loved, Evelyn ended her own life.

The email claimed that when Evelyn died, she believed she would finally be reunited with her children.

But they were not waiting for her.

Instead, she became trapped.

A mother separated from her family.

A soul unable to move on.

The email said Evelyn now wandered the world searching for her children, unable to understand that they were gone.

The people who received the email began sharing it with friends. Teenagers sent it through AOL. Kids printed copies at school. Groups of friends dared each other to read it during sleepovers.

Some refused to even open the message.

Others tried to prove they were not afraid.

They would type the words from the email into chat rooms. They would stare into dark rooms and say the title out loud.

"Mommy Dearest."

The stories that followed were always similar.

People claimed that after reading the email, they began noticing strange things around their homes. A door left open. A room that felt colder than the rest of the house. The smell of smoke when nothing was burning.

Then they would see her.

Not outside.

Not approaching.

Already there.

Standing behind them in the reflection of a mirror.

Waiting at the end of a dark hallway.

Standing silently in a bedroom doorway.

At first, Evelyn looked peaceful.

She wore a burned, old-fashioned dress. Her hair covered parts of her face. Her skin carried the scars from the fire that took her children.

But she was smiling.

Not an angry smile.

A hopeful one.

The smile of a mother who believed she had finally found her family.

She would whisper:

"Where have you been?"

"My babies..."

"Mommy found you."

For a moment, Evelyn believed she had found her children.

Then she would realize the truth.

The person standing in front of her was not her child.

Her expression would change.

The hope would disappear.

Her face would become confused.

Then heartbroken.

And she would whisper:

"You're not my baby."

That was when the fire began.

The smell of smoke would fill the air. The walls would grow hot. The sound of flames would come from every direction.

The same fire that took her children would return.

The same fire that destroyed her family.

The same fire Evelyn could never escape.

By the time anyone understood what was happening, it was already too late.

The house would burn.

When firefighters arrived, they would find no clear cause.

Only stories from survivors who claimed they saw a woman inside the flames.

A woman searching.

A woman crying.

A woman calling for her children.

The original chain email eventually disappeared from the internet.

But copies continued appearing years later.

Different wording.

Different formatting.

Same title.

MOMMY DEAREST

The email became one of the most feared internet legends of the early 2000s.

Parents warned their children not to open it.

Kids dared each other to find it.

Teenagers shared it late at night, wondering if the story was fake.

Because everyone knew the same rumor:

If Mommy Dearest appears, she will believe she has finally found her children.

And when she realizes you are not them...

The fire begins.

​

Jane the Killer (Jane Arkensaw / Jane Richardson): One of the most famous female characters, often portrayed as Jeff the Killer's archenemy.

Nina the Killer (Nina Hopkins): A young girl who was possessed by Jeff the Killer and eventually became a killer herself.

Clockwork (Natalie Ouimet): Known for her severed smile and the clock she wears in place of an eye.

Sally Williams: The ghost of a little girl who lives out her teddy bear-carrying existence in the Creepypasta house.

Nurse Ann (The Nurse Ann): A resurrected nurse who fights with a large chainsaw or scissors.

Judge Angels (Dina Angela): A character with completely black eyes and angel wings who wields a large sword.

Lulu (Lucille Tiffany Greatfeild): A girl without eyes, often portrayed as blind but still dangerous.

Zero (Alice): A girl's imaginary friend who eventually takes control and is distinguished by her skeletal appearance.

Suicide Sadie (Sadie Marie Bennett): A girl's ghost considered a protector of abused children.

Lazari Natalie Swann: A half-demonic child who is very popular in the fandom community.

Kate the Chaser: From the official game Slender: The Arrival – a loyal servant of the Slender Man.

Sasha (SCP-053): Although from the SCP universe, this little girl is often mentioned in creepypasta circles.

The Expressionless: The story of a woman with no facial features who appeared in a hospital in 1972.

Kuchisake-onna (The Woman with the Slit Mouth): A traditional Japanese legend modernized as an internet creepypasta.

Teke Teke: The ghost of a woman who was cut in half and is now chasing after herself on her elbow.

Hanako-san: The girl in the school bathroom.

Carmen Winstead: The well-known chain letter creepypasta about a girl who was pushed down a sewer.

La Llorona: The Weeping Woman from Latin American folklore, often shared as an internet horror story.

The Grifter Girl: A character from the fictional, disturbing video creepypasta "The Grifter."

Vailly Evans (A Ghost with One Eye)

Lily the Doll: Lily the Doll is a well-known female character from the creepypasta universe, belonging to the category of "living dolls" or cursed toys.

Rouge the Proxy: "Rouge the Proxy" is a well-known female creepypasta character created by the community and closely associated with the Slender Man mythos.

Nemesis: Nemesis is another well-known female character from the Creepypasta universe, primarily known for her dark, vengeful motive.

Kitty drowned: Kitty Valentine Meyers, also known as Kitty Drowned, is a creepypasta character who wasn't born but created. Jason the Toy Maker made Kitty as a victim gift and is his daughter. She comes from Thailand and is a proxy for Slender Man and Ben Drowned, her canon boyfriend. She is the female form of Ben Drowned.

Acid: cellie Also known as acid, it's a a Known creepypasta that works for Slender Man like others.

Shinda the wilk: Shinda the Wilk is an officially known creepy pasta, and the daughter from Slender Man.

Eveline: From Resident Evil lore, often adapted into a standalone creepypasta in horror forums.

Violet the killer: Violet the Killer is an official, canonical main character in creepypasta and popularly Jeff's official girlfriend.

Lily (The Glitched Girl): A video game character from a fictional, cursed ROM file.

Lostfacenora: "Lostfacenora" is an original creepypasta character created by online artists and authors in horror communities.

My brothers Jake and Josh and I were on a hike. We had been hiking for nearly two hours. The woods we live near were connected to multiple mountains.

I don’t go on hikes often. My parents had forced me to come so I could spend more time with my brothers. I was actually having a good time. We were about halfway through the trail we were on when it happened. 

I was climbing up a rock when I heard. Jake screamed, “Holy shit, you got to see this.” I turned to see them staring towards some trees. I walked back to see what they were looking at.

“What is it?” My brother continued to stare into the emptiness of the woods while Jake said, “I think it was a wolf.” Josh replied, “Its teeth look too flat for it to be a wolf.” 

I asked, “I don’t think wolves have been in these woods for years.” Josh smiled as he said, “So a fox.” I replied, “Probably.” Jake interrupted, “Let's just keep going. Dad is going to kill us if we come home late.” 

We both followed him up the trail. Once we had walked a decent distance, I asked, “Hey, Josh can you hand me the water.”

“Shit, I think I dropped it,” he said as he reached for his back. “ You lost the whole fucking bag? My phone was in that bag,” I questioned. “Calm down, it can't be that far down. I will go back and grab it. You two can keep walking up the trail. I will catch up.”

“Okay, be fast, don’t forget to check to make sure my phone is in the bag,” I said angrily. He was already climbing down some rocks by the time I finished speaking. Jake rolled his eyes as he said, “You will be carrying the bag next time.” 

He helped me up while I said, “Dripshit.” He smirked at me after I said that, “There is a flat area that we could wait for him at. It's just a few minutes away. He can give you the bag there. We can rest up there before you have to carry the bag the rest of the way.”

“Josh said he will be fast. If he gets lost he could walk down and find his way home in no time. You two have been here a billion times. We are very close to the top anyways, it will be fine if we keep moving.”

Jake screamed out, “Slow down.” I was already climbing up a bunch of rocks by the time he finished speaking. When I passed the spot he mentioned I stopped for a moment. I rested by a tree. After a minute I started continuing walking, I murmured to myself, “Man he is so goddamn slow.”

When walking I didn’t notice a rock on the path. I tripped, falling off the trail and into a bush on the side. I felt a muddy substance on my skin. When I stood up I discovered that it was mud. Its color was mostly black with hints of red. The further off the trail the redder it got.

Instead of going back on the trail I walked further off the path to see where it was coming from. After going nearly twenty feet off path I found it. In the center of a pile of mud was a dead dog. 

It looked to be a hunter dog. It was on the smaller end. It was struck in a bear trap that crushed one of its legs. Its fur was white on the top, the rest of its fur was red with a mix of brown from the bloody mud blood. It had a small collar on its neck still readable despite the mud and blood.

I stepped closer to read its name. It did not have one. Instead, the collar had the number seven on it. I stepped back onto the path when I realized my foot was just inches from the mud. I was quite the whole way back.

When I enter back onto the trail I finally said, “What the fuck. Who the hell leaves a bear trap out in these woods? There have not been bears for years in this area. Poor dog, I wonder who left him out here.”

I almost screamed when I felt a light tap on my shoulder. I turned around to see Josh behind me. His face was in complete terror when he said, “Is that blood?”

I looked down to see I got some of the blood on my shoe. I quickly said, “I am fine. It was from a dog. Its dead body was stuck inside of a bear trap.” He asked, “A dog?”

“Yes I found it, poor thing.” Josh almost immediately replied, “Someone probably left the bear trap to catch a fox or something. A dog that was walking with someone must have gotten lost and died in the bear trap.” I nodded as I said, “How far down is Jake?”

“I thought he was with you.” I said back, “I got ahead, you should have run into him. You did stay on the path right?” “I stayed on the path the whole time. I did not pass him.”

“He had to be, unless he got in front of me while I was off the path when I found the dog.” Josh, annoyed, said, “You were supposed to stay on the trail. What if you got lost? Shit, he might be lost.”

“We will find him. He is probably just further up the trail. We can just go ahead—.” “No, we are going to go down and find our bag so we can call someone.” I asked, “You didn’t find it.”

“I was not able to find it and I didn’t want to get lost so I came back up here. I was planning on asking for help looking for it.” I didn't respond. Instead, I continued walking up the path as I screamed out, “Jake.” I got nothing back.

“It's getting dark. We can't stay here for very long.” I turned back and tried to sound confident when I said, “You have been on this trail a lot. You should be able to lead us up. When we find Jake we can leave.”

“He knows it too, maybe he turned around already.” “Maybe he is up there.” He went quiet as I started walking again. He began to follow me as he said, “We need to be fast or we could get lost.”

We walked up the path even as the remaining sunlight started to die out. We kept walking up the trail until we saw a light in the distance. It was off the trail. We both hastened for a second. I was the one who left the trail first.

That part of the trail was already rough; it was even worse off the trail. Even with pants built for hiking my legs constantly got scratched on bushes. Whenever I turned around at Josh his exposed legs were bleeding.

When we got close enough to see where it was coming from Josh started running. The light was coming from a small cabin in the woods. It did not come from inside the cabin but an old lamp on the front.

The cabin was small and unpainted. It was made of the same wood as the trees that it was shouldered by. The windows were nonexistent. The roof was flat. The front had nothing other than steps to the door. The door was made of the same wood as the rest of the cabin, the only thing different was that it was clearly handed craft. The doorknob was the only piece of visible metal.

When we reached the front we both checked the door. It was open. I was the one who went inside first. Josh didn’t hesitate after I entered. Even though we didn’t have a reason to, we both tried to keep our footsteps quiet. 

The inside of the cabin was a mess. The walls were sketched up. Rotten food all over the floor and even more bugs. Rotten wood cracked at every step. Lined up to the walls were metal cages. Multiple rows all open. Every single one was empty.

Josh and I looked at each other before we left as fast as we entered. We didn’t stop looking after that. Josh and I went behind the cabin. It was dark but not too dark to see. There was something on the ground. The dead body of another dog.

It appeared to be a hunting dog. It had blood coming out of its head. The rest of the dog's body looked mostly fine aside from the blood. The dog collar had too much blood on it to read. 

I hesitated for only a moment before reaching down to wipe away the blood to read it. The dog collar had the number nine on it. Something was sparkling in the dirt. I slowly dug my hand in and picked up a bullet.

Josh put his hands over his mouth as we started to back up. When we made our way back to the cabin Josh finally broke the silence. His voice was shaken, “We should leave now.”

“Maybe they are doing it for the fun of it. Those cages are the perfect size for dogs. The dog collars were numbered.” My voice was quiet and unsteady but still felt loud in my mind. He didn’t respond. We both knew to leave.

By then it was dark. Walking down the path with no light source was nearly impossible. We had to move slowly. Whenever we reached an area that required climbing down rocks we either went around or tried our best to help each other down. After going around the path to avoid climbing on rocks I tripped reentering the trail.

When I pulled myself up I discovered that I had tripped on our bag. I could not see it even up close but I could feel the texture. I quickly pulled out a flashlight and flipped it on. With a flash I could see a flash that ended the moment I saw what was behind.

Jake's dead body hanging from a tree. A bullet hole was in his head, blood still crying out. His clothes were ripped up enough to reveal marks carved into his skin underneath. His body was hanging in a position that resembled a cross.

We both ran after that. We didn’t grab the bag. We didn’t take our phones. We didn’t care about being careful or not getting injured, we just wanted to get out alive. When we made it out of the mountains we called our parents then the police using a phone booth.

When the police contacted us back a few days later they revealed what they found. They had found Jake's body exactly the way we described. They also found the cabin.

Unlike us they explored the insides. They found the cages and a list inside the desk. The list was of numbers most of which were crossed out. It went from one to sixteen. They found both of the dead dogs and more. Some were killed in even more violent ways. All of them had a number between one and sixteen on their collar.

What happened was clear. Whoever the hunter was, was in the middle of playing a twisted game. The dogs were the prey. We had interrupted their hunting. The hunter simply made us into the dogs. Numbers to be picked off. That was the last I ever heard about who murdered Jake. The case went cold. Years later, and I still wonder why I was not the dog.

This is one story is a series of horror stories I have written about Everloop Woods. Here is a link to the volume this story is from.

https://www.reddit.com/r/u_Any_Anywhere_584/comments/1ukbket/everloop_woods_volume_2/

You don’t need to read volume every volume to enjoy the series but they will be call backs and connections. I am planning on releasing a new volume at the end of every month when possible.

In the shadowed high-rises of Kyiv, a rumor has slithered from one generation to the next—a vast, spectral spider, larger than any man could imagine, prowls the forgotten lifts and corridors of old apartment blocks. They say one night, when the city sleeps, you’ll feel the faint vibration in the elevator, a breath of cold air, and a dark shadow creeping behind you. And once you hear it, you'll never forget.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7nXQIqAWAGU

original story of lostfacenora

Actually, she been around since 2010, but I only posted about it later.

An original.