Novel & Cerita The Puppeteer Creepypasta

Love POV “A puppeteer is inside the castle gates,” I say. The heavy oak door swings back with a groan. Cordelia steps into my private chambers. Her fingers lock around the frame. “What did you just say?” Cordelia asks. The air between us turns cold. A puppeteer spell is ancient. It is a dead art. It is the kind of magic that leaves a foul taste in the back of the throat. “You heard me,” I say. Anika pushes past her. Her face is pale. The rest of the coven elders crowd the corridor behind her. Their robes rustle like dry leaves.

Asher breathes, his voice tight with fear. The being's gaze sweeps over us, a sneer twisting its features. "How touching," it says, its voice a discordant chorus of a thousand tortured souls. "The hybrid sisters and their pet Guardian, thinking they can stand against the inevitable." With a lazy flick of its wrist, the Puppet Master sends a wave of dark energy hurtling towards us. I brace for impact, but it never comes. Instead, I hear a pained grunt and open my eyes to see Xander standing before me, having taken the full brunt of the attack.

I was alone once again, and taking heed of Magda’s warning, I returned to mine and Lucas’ bedroom and laid down on the bed. Sleep found me quickly as the effects of the potion began to take hold. To say it was a restful nap would be a lie, it was anything but. Swirling faces of my past moved before my else, as well as new faces, all taunting me and jeering. I tried to stand up to move away from the mocking crows that was gathering aroundme, only to find my hands and feet bond with rope and I had been splayed out across a rock, The ropes pulled my body taught across the hard surface, jagged edges of the rock digging painfully into my flesh. I looked around, searching for someone to help me, b

“I was standing to her left and she was looking in the opposite direction, but for some reason she had her head cocked slightly like a deer on the scent of a predator. All this from a nine-year-old was enough to make me wonder if my presence had indeed been felt, which was supposed to be virtually impossible. Humans can never see us reapers except if we allow them to. We stand inches from your faces, poke our finger in your food, in your eye, in your nose, but you never once feel a breeze. We stalk behind cash registers at a store robbery, inside ambulances on their way to the ER, in steamy bathrooms where you die naked all alone; but no one ever realizes we are there. Thirteen years ago in

Just drained for some odd reason to the point of passing out at my door. Standing upright, I rolled my eyes to nowhere, wondering why I was talking to an unconscious stranger man on my bed. I should report him to the authorities or at least let the building staff know an outsider made his way up here. I was about to do just that but I contemplated. For what reason, I couldn't tell. I took my laptop to the dining area and made myself a chamomile tea before trying again to write something. He smelled of musky leather with a faint scent of earth. I opened my eyes just in time to see the gray wolf shifting into the most beautiful man I have ever seen.

But… Wake up, Iowa. From above is another puppet in the shape of my father, a dry wooden hand gently caressing my hair, whispering in my ear. “Lowa baby, I will be by your side forever, I won't leave you.” “If you stay here with us to build a home, eat together every day, play together, share secret things. Would you like it?" The puppet girl approached me, gently stroking this face. “How scary is it out there, you know? Those werewolves, we can't beat them, more than that, you have to do things like guard and fight, right?”

It seemed to appear out of thin air, the thick, viscous blood flowing endlessly from within the puppet's form. Gradually, the blood began seeping into the puppet's eyes, nose, and other facial features, making it look exactly like a desperate, helpless person filled with hatred who wanted revenge but was powerless to achieve it. "I'll kill you, Stanley. I must kill you and make you feel the same torment and suffering I endured…" The puppet's voice grew weaker but more venomous with each word. Stanley burst into maniacal laughter that echoed through the tomb like the sound of a madman celebrating his victory.

I press my face into the pillow to hide the absolutely ridiculous smile taking over my face. "Why are you suffocating yourself?" I jolt. Julian's awake, watching me with sleepy, suspicious eyes. "I'm not." "You literally just shoved your face into a pillow." He yawns. "Weirdo." "I wasn't doing anything." "You were staring at me while I slept, weren't you?" He narrows his eyes. "That's serial killer behavior, Bryson." "I was not…” "Admit it. You're obsessed with me." He's not wrong, but I'm not giving him the satisfaction. "You're delusional."

No, this couldn't be happening. "Don't you want to get out of this disgusting room?" He asked, crouching. "I'll take you to my room. You can be my slave." He traced lines on her arm as she shook her head. "Don't you want to be untied? Don't you want a long hot bath?" He smiled. He had a beautiful smile. "I'm going to take you to another room but don't try anything or I'll just kill you." Liana nodded desperately. Though she didn't want to be touched by the creepy man, anything was better than death. She couldn't let herself die yet. Also, she was tired of being in the damp, cold room in which there was no hope of escape.

To the Enforcer, it clearly looked like the hesitation of a troubled mind. He sighed, his demeanor becoming carefully detached. “I would suggest you seek a Healer’s counsel at the infirmary first. If there was a failure in a sacred rite, we can involve the Elder Council. But likely… your wolf is grieving, creating phantoms to fill a hollow den.” “No. I am reporting a pup-theft! A violation of the Bloodline Laws!” “Please, remain calm—” “I am calm!” I slammed my palm on the stone counter. The sound cracked through the hall. “The Seer Seraphina of the Moon Circle stole my pup! Investigate her!”