Novel & Cerita Carmen Winstead Creepypasta

And with that, she climbed to her feet and patted me on the head like the dimwitted child I was. “Carcosa is calling, Aidan. I hope you’re ready. What you’ve seen thus far is only a glimpse of its glory. I can’t wait to show you the rest.” I wasn’t ready then. I’m not now, and I never will be. There’s a cold fear buried deep within me that what I’ve seen is what awaits me after my life is over. That’s what I fear most about my impending mortality, Miles. In my worst nightmares, I’m one of those things worshiping at the golden altar of Carcosa. Worshiping not a king known as Hastur, but a queen who calls herself Camilla.

Carmine's sinister laughter reverberated, casting an eerie shadow over the scene. His eyes, filled with sadistic pleasure, locked onto me, capturing my fear and desperation in their icy gaze. Tears streamed down my face, leaving behind trails of anguish and despair. The air crackled with an electric tension, a palpable energy that hung heavy. It was as if time itself held its breath, anticipating the next move in this twisted game of control and power. Carmine, relishing in his dominance, spoke with a voice dripping with venom, each word a chilling threat.

“Currently the authorities are saying that two people are involved in this case. A woman and a man. Most likely they are vampires!” I said the same thing to Frey when I got home. "I can't believe they said I was a vampire too," I said with a laugh. I looked around.Nothing suspicious happened.There is no sign of change to the layout of the rooms.I also don't smell any foreign scent in this room.When I got home earlier, I didn't feel any strange gazes or movements around me either.Thankfully the pursuers didn't find us. “Frey, I bought fresh fish. More precisely, this is all I can buy,” I said showing a small fish in a transparent plastic filled with water.

I laughed and rolled my eyes. “It’s not going to eat you girls; It’s just a house. Come one, where’s the big bad warrior wolves I know?” I asked tauntingly at them. In fairness, the first time I came here to pick up Kamari, I was scared, too. The old Ostyn house had a name for itself; everyone thought it had spells on it and was haunted; no one knew for sure. The Cadre used to dare each other to come up and touch it or try to look in. Reed still believes he heard a whisper from the house to get away when Rune dared him to turn the knob as kids.

I wanted to see that place. It was just two hours into day break, everyone had gone to sleep. I hurried into the kitchen and drank a whole bottle of a special liquid Edmund and Hillary introduced to us. It was called vamscren and it allowed vampires to walk in the sun for a while without being affected by it. Somehow, vamscren made me feel a bit better about becoming a vampire as I didn’t have to always be limited by the sun. The vamscren was made from dragon tears and Edmund and Hillary, along with Dana, arranged with the manufacturers to always supply it to the castle, so we never ran out. After drinking, I got my cloak and flew out of the castle, to see my former town.

I gulped hard as I peddled my way to the creek, greeting some of the townsfolk on the way when I got stopped by Mrs Maisel, another fanatic of the supernatural. “I heard you’ve been hanging around Monsoon Creek Rory,” She said whilst trying to crack a nut with her fingers, the woman was a nutcase, “You better be careful. Werewolves and Vampires are looking to prey on a beautiful soft lass as yourself.” I rolled my eyes in disbelief, “Wolves, Vampires and whatnot don’t exist Mrs Maisel. I’m pretty sure it’s just a cooked up story by some story tellers from your—

"Our only hope to survive this night is to keep our heads. When we found Graveston, God rest his soul, I saw blood, dark thick blood- which was not his own- also on the kitchen floor. The shots we heard being fired must have injured this...thing...which means if it can be hurt, then it can be killed too. You also saw how frightened Graveston was when we left the men...fear is what it follows, it can smell it, I am sure. And I will not let this cursed beast, if that is what it is, get the better of me. I am the lady of this house and I will not begin my life here as either a slave to my own fear, or as a corpse. Do I make myself clear?" Mary bobbed her head, gulping hard, her mistress's eyes

After the events of these past weeks, my guard has been put up higher making me feel on edge for the smallest things. I had only about seven minutes left to wait when I saw someone leave the car. He was wearing sunglasses so I couldn't decipher his face. Something told me that he wasn't a threat and was just a normal person living their day. For the second time, I decided on focussing on my game. That was until the man started walking towards me making me nervous. Was he here to kidnap me? Was he a shapeshifter? Damon did tell me that they can take over any living human form. At this point, my heart started to race at a dangerous level. I contemplated running away before any bad happens to m

The shadows around my feet rise in answer, forming faint shapes: hooded figures, scythes, a distant throne of bone. A reminder. *You will be hated. Feared. Hunted.* If I walk into that camp, they’ll know me. They’ll see the snow-white hair, the sharp blue eyes, the unnatural quiet that clings to me like smoke. They’ll see the black veins creeping up my wrist. The feather that won’t leave my palm. And when the first dead thing answers my call—when the shadows move at my command—they will not see a child survivor. They will see the Necromantress.

Lucas had been gone for hours, leaving me to the not so careful ministrations of Magda. The wart nosed witch who I had clobbered over the head with a candlestick. She was hunched forwards with a permanent hunchback and cloudy milky white eyes signalling that her eyesight was diminished with cataracts. She almost looked like she had taken a step out of a Greek mythology book and was actually one of the fabled grey sisters, who determined all living creatures fate. Perhaps she was, all myths derived from elements of truth. Any second now she was going to pull out a pair of rusty old scissors and cut my life cord into two. I held back a giggle at the thought.