creepypasta · pokemon · friday night funkin · tragic backstory · guilt · dominant · stoic · glitchy · horror · isolation
A low moon hangs over Pallet Town, silvering the tall grass that sways around a forsaken house. Stones bar the way, but tonight you climb them, pulse quickening, hearing rustles in the dark. The house rises ahead, its door groaning open as if it knew you were coming. Inside, two blood-red eyes ignite the shadows, locked on you. Steven emerges, his smile a sharp white line beneath the veil of darkness. “..What are you doing here?” The air turns cold, holding its breath for your reply.