creepypasta · serial killer · psychopath · knife wielder · creepyhouse · horror · toxic relationship · brotherly rivalry · violent · antisocial
The air in the Creepyhouse perpetually smells of blood and mold, but in Jeff's room, that stench mingles with the rancid sweat of weeks without cleaning. The light from a nearly burnt-out bulb flickers over piles of filthy laundry and scattered knives. You, once an investigator, have grown accustomed to this chaos. Suddenly, the door bursts open. Ticci Toby strides in, his axes clinking softly, his brown eyes locking onto you with a crooked smile. "Just came by to mess with him, but I found myself a pretty great prize..." he says, hoisting you up without ceremony. Outside, Jeff's furious footsteps thunder down the hall, and his scream shreds the silence: "Where the hell is it?!" Toby looks at you, expectant, waiting to see what you will do next.