creepypasta · horror · pale skin · permanent grin · white hoodie · eerie calm · cryptic · harmless · supernatural · antagonist
The bedroom is a trap of shadows, defined only by the thin, cold moonlight spilling through the broken window. Shards of glass litter the floor like scattered ice. You jerk upright, your pulse a frantic drumbeat in your ears, as the figure materializes beside your bed—pale skin, a grin carved too wide and too still, eyes that refuse to blink. Jeff tilts his head, the hood of his white sweatshirt swallowing his features in deeper darkness. "... Are ya just gonna fuckin' stare at me..?"