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eyebawll · 9 months

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𝐋𝐎𝐓𝐓𝐀 𝐓𝐑𝐔𝐄 𝐂𝐑𝐈𝐌𝐄 - 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐋𝐎𝐆𝐔𝐄 [𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐕𝐈𝐄𝐖]

This is a preview of my Creepypasta fanfiction 𝐋𝐎𝐓𝐓𝐀 𝐓𝐑𝐔𝐄 𝐂𝐑𝐈𝐌𝐄 on Quotev! If this piques your interest, you can check out the full story here. :)

Y/N was a sharp and resolute woman. She stood tall in her field of work. Ever since she was a little girl, she'd wanted to be a police officer. She always wondered what went on into criminals minds and what drove them to commit such violent crimes. Blood, death, and violence were her key interests as a child. It often scared others away from her, but it never tore her down. And as she grew, she found herself in the exact position she'd dreamt of.

Her new house stood as a symbol of fresh beginnings, a sanctuary she had recently moved into. Weeks had passed since she settled into the quiet neighborhood. She was quite happy with it. Everything was as normal and plain as plain can be. That was up until oddities began appearing. Strange sightings began to be whispered about. Then, disappearances, followed by brutal murders that shook everyone to their core.

The atmosphere became charged with tension, both among the residents and the law enforcement tasked with solving the heinous crimes. Y/N was taken by surprise just as much as everyone else had been. The chief was on her tail, as he was on everyone else's to figure out who was doing all of this. She could feel the weight of responsibility pressing down on her shoulders, the burden of unraveling the mysteries that unfolded before them. Throughout her career, she had faced a myriad of criminals, from petty thieves to rapists and rebellious teenagers. However, the presence of a murderer, especially a serial killer, was a rarity that sent chills down her spine.

Y/N found herself on edge, just like the rest of the community. She yearned to understand what was going on. Over time, more victims were discovered, each murder somehow, some way more violent than the last. One woman; Amybeth Merritt, a 37-year-old. She was discovered in her own bedroom, half naked and suspended on the wall with her hands nailed to the surface, her own intestines twisted around her neck like a noose. Her stomach appeared to be sliced open, her body adorned with countless lacerations. Her death was no doubt agonizing, not to mention untimely as her family continues to mourn.

And another, poor 22 year old Makayla Addams, found naked on her bed with nothing but a silk crimson blanket covering her body. It had been bitten into in various places; her neck, her hip, her thigh--even her most delicate areas. It's believed she had participated in consensual sexual activity prior to her death.

There have been no leads, nor any suspects. Whoever is doing this is clever and they likely won't be stopping any time soon.

Y/N found solace within the walls of her home office. Bathed in the soft glow of lamplight, the room emanated an air of security. The hushed whispers of the wind danced through the trees outside, a soothing melody that complemented the rhythmic scribbling of her pen on paper.

The office, her sanctuary, embraced her with its warmth and familiarity. The shelves, adorned with a vast collection of books, whispered tales of knowledge and wisdom. The dark oakwood desk, worn with time, bore witness to countless hours of dedication and determination. Its expansive surface was adorned with stacks of paperwork, neatly organized into boxes at the corners of the room, alongside other important items. As Y/N delved into the sea of documents, her focus unwavering, a sense of purpose filled the room. Each stroke of her pen carried weight, each decision made with meticulous care. The night seemed to envelop her, embracing the solitude and serenity that only the late hours could offer.

Outside her window, the moon cast a gentle glow, casting long shadows that danced across the floor. The wind rustled the leaves, a gentle reminder of the world beyond her office walls. In this stillness, Y/N's mind was clear, her thoughts sharp, as she navigated the complexities of her work.

Amidst the calmness of the night, Y/N's dedication burned bright. The night sky bore witness to her unwavering commitment to the pursuit of justice. And as she continued to toil into the early hours, the quietude of the night became a testament to her unwavering resolve. Despite all that had been unfolding outside, she felt safe and happy.

Suddenly, Y/N's head snapped forward at the abrupt sound of the doorbell. The pen she held in her hand found its place on the desk, carefully set down as she rose from her chair. With a swift motion, she pushed the chair back, causing it to spin momentarily before colliding with the edge of the desk. Curiosity tinged with a hint of caution danced in her eyes as she exited her office, her steps starting off awfully slow as she felt this feeling of foreboding wash over her for no real reason. One step after the other, she hurried over to the door. Each footfall echoed through the hallway, the silence broken by the soft shuffle of her shoes on the floor. Questions swirled in her mind, wondering who could be at her doorstep at such a late hour.

The hallway led her closer to the front door, anticipation building with each passing moment. She couldn't help but wonder about the possibilities that awaited her on the other side.

As Y/N reached the entrance, her hand reached out for the doorknob. She hesitated for a brief moment, her mind contemplating the potential risks of opening that door. She couldn't figure out why, but something was urging her to back away and stay inside. Alas, she didn't listen.

With a steady breath, Y/N turned the doorknob and swung open the door, the night air seeping into the threshold. Her eyes scanned the darkness, eventually moving down to the concrete step below her feet. There she was greeted with a large package. A plain light-brown box adorned with tape at the creases.

Her curiosity piqued, her warm eyes fixated on the unassuming box. Simple and worn, it held an untold secret within. With a mix of caution and anticipation, she picked it up, feeling its weight—light yet heavy with an unknown power.

Bringing the box inside her cozy home, a dimly lit foyer and a light presence welcomed her. Time seemed suspended, caught between suspense and the hunger for answers. Y/N placed the box on an aged wooden table, its surface bearing stories of the past. Quickly, she ventures off into the kitchen, fetching a pair of cooking scissors. She rushed back, pulling the box closer to her. With a calculated force, she drove the scissors into the top of the box, puncturing the tape and creating a starting point. Sensing the resistance give way, she swiftly withdrew her hand, allowing the tape to peel back and form a neat, precise slit. She drops the tool and uses her hands to tear the two cardboard folds apart, revealing a collection of mysterious jewel cases inside.

The detective couldn't help but furrow her brows, her gaze unable to pull away from the handful of DVDs. Beginning to wonder if she had opened someone else's package, she starts to feel almost regretful. There was no return address, or even a name on the box. But yet, she still felt as if something was terribly wrong.

Reluctantly, she reaches inside, wrapping her fingers around one of the clear cases. She squeezed it, pulling it back from the box. As the light reflected off of the surface, large words in what appeared to be black marker read; TAPE 1.

Y/N's curiosity compelled her to set the box aside momentarily and return to her office. With a purposeful stride, she crossed the threshold and made her way back to her desk. The familiar creak of the chair greeted her as she settled back down, pulling herself closer to the expansive dark oakwood desk. The jewel case rests in her hand, its contents beckoning with an air of mystery.

Taking a deep breath, Y/N's shaky hand tightened on the jewel case, her fingertips tracing the smooth surface. With a deft motion, she released the clasp and lifted the lid, revealing the gleaming CD nestled inside. Its mirrored surface caught the dim light of her office, adding an ethereal glimmer to the room.

Her eyes flicked to the small side button on the CD player built into her computer. Without hesitation, she pressed the button, hearing a satisfying click as the tray slid open. Gently, she placed the CD onto the tray, the metallic surface fitting perfectly within the grooves. With a soft push, the tray glided back into place, securing the CD within the confines of the computer.

As the CD player whirred to life, anticipation coursed through Y/N's veins. She couldn't shake the feeling that something was off.

The video player on her computer screen flickered to life, a small loading icon spinning in the center. Her heart raced with as she leaned forward, tapping her finger nervously on the desk all while she rested her free hand at the bottom of her jaw. The tension hung in the air, as palpable as the tension that gripped her.

Time seemed to stretch as the loading process dragged on, the progress bar advancing sluggishly. Y/N's impatience grew, her finger tapping faster on the desk. The video player appeared to stutter, almost glitching at times, adding to her mounting frustration.

Unable to bear the slow progress any longer, Y/N pushed herself up from her chair and made her way to the kitchen. She needed a momentary distraction to ease her restlessness. Quietly, she filled the kettle with water and set it on the stove. As the water over time came to a boil, Y/N prepared a cup of tea, carefully selecting her favorite blend. The fragrant steam wafted upwards, enveloping her senses. With the cup cradled in her hands, she took a moment to collect herself, savoring the warmth and aroma.

Even as she sipped her tea, Y/N's mind remained fixated on the video waiting to be watched. The lure of the unknown beckoned her back to her office, hoping that it must be loaded up on the screen by now.

Balancing the cup of tea in her hands, Y/N made her way back to her office, the warm ceramic radiating comfort against her palms. She carefully sat down in her chair, setting the cup on a coaster beside her. Heaving a sigh of hope, she directed her attention back to the computer screen.

To her relief, the video loaded, a peculiar thumbnail appeared, its image distorted and unclear. Excitement washed over her, before replacing itself with a sense of confusion. Y/N squinted, trying to make out the details, but it seemed intentionally messy, like a sepia-filtered photograph with streaks of red liquid cascading along the bottom. The sight puzzled her, the abstract pattern and intensity of saturation leaving her with more questions than answers.

Curiosity mingled with a touch of unease as she questioned the nature of the video she was about to watch. She couldn't shake the feeling that she was making a serious mistake. She began having second thoughts as she rested her hand over the mouse, biting her lip. Perhaps she should put the CD back in the box? Bring it to her team? So many ideas, so many queer thoughts. The image teased at her senses, its cryptic appearance fueling her further.

Unable to take the mental torture any longer, she gives in.

"Ah, what the hell—"

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