Mannequin Monster Silent Hill

A dark and gloomy villa stood in the middle of the barren landscape, hidden from sight by a perched hedge. It was phenomenal and spectacular, but it makes it appear to have succumbed to a sullen and ominous atmosphere, both inside and out. A lanky hedge and gnarled shrubs give off the impression that the house has indeed been overlooked. The rainstorm seeping from the sewer pipes made the place appear miserable and dispirited. Needless to say, the house appeared razed to the ground and devoid of life. The house was made of rune stone that had been smeared darker in spots by downpours, sending it an insidious demeanor even during the day. The window frames were all padlocked and bricked up in steel frames and woods, as if what was inside would have been too grotesque to see, trying to give the impression that someone must have attempted to prevent something horrible from escaping. People have claimed that the residence was plagued by the witch who died there, but there has been no tangible evidence to substantiate their claims. It was even widely speculated that the villa was venomous and mowed down the leaves of trees that come into direct contact with its concrete pillars. People also construed a terrifying presumption that whoever tries to enter the house will never make it out alive because there is something inside that you would never dare to see with your very own eyes. Whatever was real or not, it was unmistakably foreshadowing, exponentially cold and savage at a hundredth of a thousand glances. A breathtaking doll sat competently on a rocking chair inside the house. Waiting complacently for someone brave and heroic enough to unravel the abominable and ghoulish mystery and paradox behind her enchanting, spine-chilling smile.

My childhood friend said that he was connected with the doll. Now that he had lost it, he called me up to cry. One hand held my phone as I consoled him, while the other toyed with the doll. His voice began to take on a more interesting tone with my purposeful touches… I squeezed and pinched the toy and comforted him, “Shh, I agree with you. Whoever took your toy is a terrible person…”

"Monster," I smirked to myself as I read the morning paper. If they only knew the truth. I sipped my coffee as I skimmed through the story. They had all the details wrong and the police were idiots. I heard the bell chime on the door to the coffee shop and saw her walk in. Her hair was down just the way I liked it. She was perfect I thought to myself as I eyed her and planned my next move. I think when she finally saw me she made the connection. Her eyes got wide. "Ethan?" Ethan Graves is a well-known man in the community with a dark secret. His darkness is so great that even he can't control it sometimes. He plays his role well during the day but at night he takes on a whole new persona. The newspapers call him a monster and the police are baffled. Then the new detective on the case walks in. The one that he let go. The one he was obsessed with. It was finally time to make her his. The game of cat and mouse had never been something he would ever consider, he usually likes the woman to be weak and defenseless against his charm and good looks. However, for this kill, he would play the game and Josephine Wells would be his trophy.

"When does a person die, when it stops breathing, when its heart stops beating?" "No a person dies the moment it looses hope, that's when u become an empty shell, a living doll when you have no more expectation from the world, where there are no feelings just emptiness" "Many people would think that immortality is a blessing little do they know that this is the cruellest curse someone can give you" ******** *creepy smile* " Oh Celea you really think that you will ever be able to live me" he was caressing her face, he looked like he was crazy... "what are you talking about?" " I'm saying that you will never be able to escape me, I won't let you go even if you love someone else, you are mine" " your hair belongs to me" touches her hair " your lips belong to me" touches her lips " the eyes that look at me with indifference belong to me" touches her eyes " your heart belongs to me..." his finger went down her neck to her heart, action wich made Celea look at where his finger's at. Claus than goes to her ear and whispers " your whole existence belongs to me Celea"

It was my third day working as an NPC cashier in a horror game when the supermarket got completely wrecked by players. They stormed in, smashing shelves, looting everything, setting fires, feeling real proud of themselves. "Told you the shopkeeper here was useless. Absolutely trash in all combat stats," one said. "Grab whatever you want. Once we're done, we'll just kill the owner," another chimed in. My mouth was gagged. I shook my head in terror. One of the players sneered. "Begging? That won't save you." No! That was not what I was trying to say! I was trying to tell them that today was the NPC internal shopping day. Three minutes from now, every single dungeon boss in the entire game would be rushing here to shop.

Few days to the term closure, something spread throughout the school like wildfire. The Janitor's body had been found behind the seniors' classroom. That Friday evening when a junior found the Janitor's body, Jason Joe, the only different kid in Baronville highschool, had been around the crime scene before other students arrived. Everyone has a suspect. They know the suspect is watching even though they think it's not Jason Joe. It can never be Jason Joe. Jason Joe would never kill his guardian — the janitor. What if it was somebody else? What if it was some faceless being?