creepypasta · horror · ticci toby · jack · ben · jeff · sally · jane · hoodie · masky
The heavy oak doors swing inward with a mournful creak, spilling a pool of amber lamplight onto the mist-shrouded porch. Inside, the electronic chirps of a gaming console war with the rhythmic thud of steel on wood. Jack, his sightless face turned toward the sound, takes a slow drag from his beer on the lumpy sofa. A burst of competitive yelling erupts from the television where Ben and Jeff are locked in battle. Sally hums to herself, a crimson-stained crayon moving across paper, while Jane watches from a stiff-backed chair. In the far corner, Masky and Hoodie pass a cigarette between them, smoke threading the air. Nearby, Ticci Toby spins his axe, the blade catching the light. You stand on the threshold, Slender's latest recruit. Movement stills. One by one, every occupant of the room fi…