Clockwork Creepypasta Cosplay Novels & Stories

But as I hoped, the penny-ante grifter is propping up the bar, glass in hand, one arm operating like a pump as he knocks back cheap beer with a group of a dozen or so. The other arm is slung around the waist of a gruesome female, her eyes made up zombie-fashion. The remaining make-up job is way too pale for her face, except for the lipstick, which is black, matching the gelled spikes of hair radiating out from her head like some kind of poisoned halo. For some reason she thinks that elbow-length, black lace gloves make a good match with Doc Marten boots. And in a final salute to style, she chews gum, never actually closing her mouth to do so.

She looked at the clock on the wall and it was 3:27 am. "What's it about?" "A man. A cloak-dressed man being chased by a bunch of angry people with long pointed teeth- fangs. The cloak Man also had fangs. It was really scary and blood was....... were-were everywhere," Her lips trembled at the last words along with her little body. The butler hugs her to calm her down. Since she was trembling, she failed to see the look that passed the butler's face. "It's over now, it's okay. No one is coming to hurt you or anybody, everyone is safe," She pressed deeper into his embrace.

"Six hundred trillion Abyssal Merit credits. Transferred upon delivery." The Hollowsmith's cracked clockwork face arranged itself into a smile. "Delivery is immediate. But I should mention a detail I may have omitted during our last conversation." "I assumed you had omitted several." "Only one that matters." The Hollowsmith reached beneath the counter and produced a seventh suit. It was smaller than the others, designed for a child's frame, and its color scheme was different: warm pink threaded with golden filaments that pulsed in time with a rhythm Jack recognized. The baby Utterance's song.

"You are merely a clockwork doll that has learned to scream. You are a melody played on a broken string." He gestured, and the shadows in the room groaned. The stone floor beneath Cattleya began to sweat blood, the red fluid pooling around her boots, smelling of iron and ancient, stagnant graves. From the pools, elongated, skeletal hands”pale and frantic”reached up to latch onto her ankles. They were the husks of her past cycles, the discarded failures of the nursery, their eyes hollowed-out sockets weeping dark, viscous ichor. Cattleya felt the cold dread of them, the suffocating weight of a thousand identical deaths dragging at her resolve. She looked down, her gaze icy. The silver filamen

My skin prickled with a weird kind of intrigue. "Jesus," I said, rubbing my stomach as another cramp hit. "You scared me. Nice makeup, though. The whole undead thing? Very dedicated. Most guys just wear a plastic mask." "It is not makeup," he said. His voice was a low vibration that sent tingles all over my body. He stood impossibly still. "Right," I scoffed, shifting my weight. "Custom contacts and veneers too? You’re a dedicated cosplayer, I’ll give you that. Must have cost a lot to get your skin looking that pale."

The wolves panicked, falling back into defensive positions, their claws extending as their shifting instincts took over. "They're through!" Silas yelled, drawing his weapon. The steel door didn't slide open; it was imploded outward. A shockwave of hot air and silver dust threw us to the ground. Through the smoke, the clockwork child walked. It looked exactly like me at ten years old, with the same amber eyes and dark hair, but its skin was a seamless, polished porcelain that reflected the firelight. It held the obsidian shard in its left hand, the dark stone humming with a faint, violet light.

Dad winks and steers Mom toward their table, where Uncle John, Dean, and a handful of high-and-mighties already sit — men who, in one way or another, form part of our team. I shrug back the cloak of my Grim Reaper costume. The fabric drags across my bruised spine, feeling like razor blades cutting into flesh, and I drop into my assigned seat beside Ilkay, who’s gone full mad doctor in bloody scrubs. Commitment. Respect. “Hey, dude,” Axel says from across the table. He’s a werewolf with abs and way too much confidence. “Nice body paint.” I glance down at myself. Exposed torso, professionally painted bones, rib cage stretching into darkness, where black harem pants take over to end in high-top

the paladin bow down and his liege faced them Lina remembered the cosplay of ghosts every Halloween. A white floating sheet –she doesn’t even know if the kid used a bedsheet or their own blanket but it somehow looks like what’s in front of her “A floating skull” Lich looks like the ghost in Halloween –more like the grim reaper With chains and an old book spell in his both hands, black hairdressing in his bone head and a white old and tattered robe for his top… Lich is ready for some trick or treat

After everything that had happened, choosing exactly this costume was almost a mockery of fate. “Did you like it?” I spun, making the dress twirl. “I loved it.” He pulled me close, his hands on my waist. “But I’m going to have to suck you dry.” “Daddy!” Aggy shouted, laughing. “Vampires don’t suck dolls!” “This vampire does.” He replied, and I laughed. The oven timer went off. I went over and took out the pumpkin pie decorated like a graveyard — cookie tombstones, whipped cream ghosts, chocolate spiderwebs. Aggy clapped when she saw it, her eyes shining.

To the right of Zark was Keil, which wore a beautiful white silk dress with edges in golden threads, on her neck was a necklace with celtic line design, while her hands were covered with delicate gloves White Next to Keil was Horus with his highlighted golden armor in the shape of Humanoid Ave Rapaz, the golden wings that should possess the armor of him were at this time hidden. Then Charlotte Blackwood was, the general guarding the clock tower, which wore an elegant tuxedo for women, among the GENERAL CHARLOTTE was the specialist in Stealth, Infiltration and Collection of Information, along with the Specialist in Survel Attacks and Murder . And finally he was Marishka.