Creepypasta – Tyrek's Writing

The Shadow

They didn’t see him; nobody ever did. They sat around the dinner table, joking and singing or whatever, but Jack didn’t care, not now. There were 3 of them this time: a father, a mother, and a daughter. The parents were old, and the daughter was maybe 22 or 23, not that it mattered to Jack; he went where he was told, no matter what. A birthday party, perhaps, Jack wondered mildly, as he lazily strode through the kitchen toward the back door. He locked the door quietly before lazily looking for the light switch. The Change was Jack’s favorite part, the moment they went from joy to fear. The Change filled the room as Jack found the light switch and flicked it. Jack was quick with his duties, and when the lights came back on, the family was unrecognizable; bits of blood, hair, and flesh coated the walls and floors. Jack admired his handiwork. The Shadow would be pleased. Jack smiled once more before wandering back into the night.

Jack Rowe worked as a bartender, or at least he pretended to be every week for 40 hrs or more. It wasn’t something he liked doing. Matter of fact, he hated it. All those degenerates and heathens lit Jack on fire. If he had to hear one more story about how, this one got dumped for that one, while the other was screwing somebody else, he might decide to put an end to the whole affair in a very violent manner. Jack never got what he wanted, however, because The Shadow loved the bar. Young women were its prey of choice, and there was no shortage of them tonight.

“Jack, Hello”, Rose waved a hand in his face, “Earth to Jack.”

Jack blinked his way back into existence while turning to meet the gaze of his “boss”. If you could call her that, I mean, she was 20 years younger than him. A fact that wasn’t lost on him as his gaze slid from her face and down her neck, over curves and dips, and down to things only his imagination would ever see. Her deadly blue eyes shone in her pale face, as wild red hair framed her freckled cheeks. Rose was heartachingly beautiful, but far too young. Maybe he was just too old. It was only a few years ago when a woman like that would have been all over him, but now…

“Jack, the trash needs to go out,” Rose said, interrupting his thoughts once more. She shifted uncomfortably before shuffling out of the room. Jack didn’t blame her. With a sigh, he gathered the trash and walked out the door.

Jack dragged a trash can behind him, and he felt a familiar twinge in his neck. Jack didn’t flinch; he was used to it by now. One moment he was throwing a bag into the dumpster, and the next he was falling. Then he was still. The Shadow never really had a form other than glowing red eyes. The eyes were never the same. The size, the shape, the number. It changed from occasion to occasion. Jack noticed this idly as he looked around, for the eyes.

He found them to his left, and when their eyes met, he felt an image surge into his mind. A woman in a blue dress is sitting at the bar. She had been at the bar drinking her sadness away. Her boyfriend was a jerk or something, but it didn’t matter now. She was Marked. She would be his next victim.

When Jack returned to his post, the woman was there, sipping on something sweet, Jack never bothered to learn the name, and pouring out her soul to the woman next to her. The Shadow lurked in a corner, listening with glee as the woman described how her boyfriend went home for the holiday and hooked up with his ex. Three red eyes appeared in the corner of the room as she went on about how she found his second phone, the one with all his other girls. A fourth eye opened. Maybe it was a smile. Maybe not. Jack couldn’t care less about the woman or her crappy boyfriend, but this was part of the chase, and Jack always did what he was supposed to.

So while the woman talked, he listened, and when she got up to leave, he followed. Jack kept his headlights off as he drove behind her; he didn’t need them. His night vision had been extraordinary. When she drove up to an apartment building, Jack watched to see which was hers. Once he was certain of her apartment number, he drove off. The Chase was fun, but the rest was yet to come. He went around back, walking through an alleyway, a pair of glowing red eyes peering from the darkness. The fire escape was easy enough to climb, and the window opened easily enough. There were only two of them this time. The woman in the blue dress and a boy. Presumably the boyfriend. From the bedroom, Jack watched them argue in the kitchen. The moment wasn’t right for The Change to work; it had to be the right moment. Jack slipped out of the bedroom and into the living room.

They didn’t see him, nobody ever did, but he saw them. The fighting intensified, and Jack began to worry that the moment would never come. He would have to do it anyway; it just wouldn’t be as fun. Jack sighed. Well, if it had to be, it had to be. Jack had a job to do. A moan escaped the woman’s lips, and stopped Jack in his tracks. The fighting was morphing; they still yelled at each other, but only between breaths as they began to shed their clothes like the wretched animals they were. The yelling devolved into moaning as the woman’s back found the couch Jack had been standing by. He had escaped into the bathroom while they were… busy. Six red eyes watched as the man’s pants fell to the floor, and six more eyes watched as the woman continued her shrieks, for lack of a better term, of pleasure.

This was the moment. It was time for The Change. The breaker was easy to locate because he had already seen it on the way in. It was in the bedroom. Jack smiled, and with a push, the power was out. The shrieks and groans from the living room silenced, and Jack’s smile widened. It was even better than he had expected. He heard them whispering to each other in the living room, and Jack walked past them to the front door. He waited for a moment before locking it. He wanted to be sure they heard it. A gasp of fear from the woman confirmed it.

A laugh escaped his lips; he couldn’t help it. They couldn’t see him, he was sure, but they could hear him. He savored The Change in all of its glory, but all good things must end sometime. With a sigh, he brought up a shadowy hand, where he held his new weapon. A vase from the nightstand. Thirteen eyes watched as the vase cracked against the boy’s skull, and another laugh escaped into the void. The woman screamed and ran to the door, but Jack was fast. Jack’s tendril-like fingers grabbed her throat before throwing her back down on the couch. A shard of the vase lay at his feet. With a singular motion, he brought it across the boy’s neck. The woman was next. Jack’s hand found her throat again, and he squeezed, as her naked body squirmed beneath him. His joy could not be contained any longer, and he laughed. He laughed and he laughed and he laughed, until his eyes turned red.

When the lights were back on, Jack admired his masterpiece. The Shadow was pleased. Jack knew because he no longer saw the eyes. He was satiated for now, and so was Jack. He giggled to himself quietly all the way home.

“Jack, could you empty the trash again? I know you just did, but…” Rose’s voice trailed off as she left, not bothering to finish her sentence. Jack watched as she walked away, watching her hips sway side to side. Heartachingly beautiful was the term he had used, and his heart was aching for sure. She was the girl he wanted but knew he could never have. He thought about this as he felt the familiar twinge in his neck, one moment standing and the next falling. And then he was still. The eyes were uncountable this time, but he didn’t need to look at them to know who was Marked.

It was Rose, it’s always been Rose. Jack smiled. Maybe it was time to let her go. Or maybe he’d hold onto her for a little while longer. The eyes blinked in what could have been laughter, and Jack joined in for the last time.

The Dollmaker

Thud woosh

The Dollmaker lived on the edge of town. He kept to himself most days, but that didn’t stop the rumors from spreading. Usually rumors are par for the course in a small town such as the one we find ourselves in , but what do you do when the rumors are closer to the truth than you know?

Thud woosh

There was nothing particularly odd about this man. He was a tall, dark skinned man, in his early 60s. He didn’t often speak, but when he did he spoke in a rich, baritone voice He did have one eccentricity though. One thing that lit the rumor mill ablaze. The Dollmaker, if you can imagine, sold dolls.

Thud woosh

Rumors don’t always have a logical source, and of course the old man at the edge of town is ripe for forming rumors. However the rumors weren’t about him. They were about the dolls. Life-sized dolls, of all ages, races, genders, If you could name it, he probably had it.

Thud woosh

Not only life-sized , but life-like. Silky hair caressed there heads, and the eyes. Don’t look in there eyes, they say the reflection could drive you insane. They looked so real, it was almost as if they were posing. One might expect them to, get up, straighten themselves out, and walk out the store, and if the rumors were true, they could.

Thud woosh

The rumors were not entirely true, as you can probably guess, but that didn’t stop them from spreading. They told stories of people who went into the shop, and never came back out. Only to be found in the display window by their grieving mother. No evidence had ever been found to back this claim though.

Thud woosh

His real name was Henry Hunnicker, and as long as anyone could remember he’d always lived in town. He was a husband, and a father, and he led a happy life.

Thud woosh

Even then he was a quiet man. Opting to be a more action forward member of the community. Everyone in town knew that if something needed to be done, he was the guy to call, and with little more than a grunt of affirmation he would get it done.

Thud woosh

That was until the night his wife died. He tried to continue to help the community, but when grief strikes, it strikes true. He withdrew into himself and with his son out of the state for college, Henry Hunnicker was all alone.

Thud woosh

Henry was a valued member of the town however, and the town would help him out however they could. Even his son would come to visit more often, to show some support. They helped him get a job at the local cemetery.

Thud woosh

Now you might not understand the logic of that move. Why would Henry Hunnicker work at a cemetery, especially the very cemetery his wife was buried in. The close proximity to his wife comforted him, in a macabre way. The towns people found it a little strange how much time he spent at her grave, but “We all grieve differently” they would say. They never knew how right they were.

Thud woosh

A shovelful of dirt arced gently across the night sky. Then another, then another before Henry hit the lid of the coffin. She was a little dirty, but he’d clean her. He’d preserve her, and keep her safe.

Thud woosh

Transporting her was easy. The cemetery was also at the edge of town after all. He brought her home, and made good on his promises. He cleaned her up, changed her clothes. He painted her face a pale pink, and although he wasn’t good with makeup, he tried his best. Setting her on the chair, he admired his work.
His lovely wife. His first doll.

Thud woosh

Henry waited. He had covered his tracks but surely he missed something. He was certain that at any second he would here a banging at the door, and the unwelcome cry of “Police!”, but it never came. The cemetery owner called to ask why he wasn’t at work. The owner hadn’t noticed anything either. Henry smiled for the first time in a long time.

Thud woosh

Henry found that he had a knack for doll making. After the first one he just couldn’t stop. He found the whole thing to be exhilarating. A sort of therapy. Looking into the face of death and bringing it back to life.

Thud woosh

Though he soon encountered a problem, anyone with a collection of life sized dolls might have. He ran out of places to put them

Thud woosh

Quitting his job, Henry opened up shop. Henry was now the Dollmaker. Henry, if you can imagine, sold dolls

Thud woosh

Rumors continued to spread, but the Dollmaker brushed them aside. Little did they know, the truth lay shallowly beneath those rumors, but as long as nobody found it, The Dollmaker didn’t mind.

Thud woosh

And on quiet nights like this, when the wind blows just right, you can hear the

Thud woosh

of the Dollmakers shovel.

Thud woosh

Searching for his next masterpiece.

Thud.

“Daddy, Im Going to Kill You”

“Daddy, I’m going to kill you”

I looked up at my daughter who sat across the table from me. She didn’t usually speak at dinner, so the sound of her voice startled me.

“I’m sorry, what was that” I said, not sure if I heard correctly

“I’m going to kill you, daddy.”

” What are you talking about honey, why do you keep saying that?”, i said in annoyance

“Because I am, the voices in my room taught me how” she said, barely even looking up from her food. She seemed happy to be saying the words. ” What are you going to tell them?”

She must have seen me from the corner of her eye as I reached for my cell phone. “They won’t do anything, the police I mean, I’m only 6, I say all kinds of silly things”, she giggled at that, and ate her food.

I didn’t know what to do. What voices? Could she really kill me? No, that’s silly of course. She says silly things all the time.

“Honey, why do you want to kill me?”, i spoke cautiously

She didn’t respond, she just ate her food in silence. I went back to eating too, putting this odd conversation behind me.

“All your friends hate you, you know. They’re scared you might hurt them. If they could kill you they would, but they can’t. I can though”

“Stop this right now!” I yelled. Anger welled up in my stomach, and my fists clenched on the table. She didn’t flinch though, she smiled.

“ Are you going to hurt me daddy?” she said with a smile, that ungodly smile. “ Are you angry with me”

I didn’t respond. I wasn’t really sure what to say, she usually listens to me.

Angrily, I stood up from the table. “ You are in big trouble, you shouldn’t talk to your father that way, little girl”, I moved to step toward her. I don’t know what I was going to do, but she only smiled. She laughed and giggled and smiled

“ Sit down, daddy. You’re being silly.”

The lights flickered as the chair behind me rammed into my legs as an unseen force pushed me back down into my seat.

“Daddy, you know it’s only right. After what you did to mommy”, she said as she shoveled more food into her mouth.The words were like a punch in the stomach. Tears welled up as i remembered her crumpled form laying at the bottom of the stairs

“Mommy is OK, she just had a bad fall, sweetie. The doctors will take care of her” I said in a whisper. I wanted to believe that’s what happened but we both knew it wasn’t true

“ Mommy wont wake up because of you, you hurt her. You hurt her like you hurt all your friends. They want you to fall too, so they don’t have to be scared anymore, so they don’t end up like Mommy” , She was so nonchalant she could have been talking about what she was eating for dinner

“Look, Amaya, I know I have a drinking problem. I get drunk and-”

“YOU’RE NOT DRUNK, YOU’RE MEAN. YOU’RE MEAN AND YOU HURT PEOPLE AND NO ONE WILL MISS YOU AFTER I’M DONE”, she yelled

The sudden shift in tone startled me. She had never raised her voice at me before. I reached into my pocket and i pulled out my phone, and i hate to admit it but in that moment i was terrified of my daughter

“ Look, I’m calling the police, Amaya. Stop this right now”. I croaked feebly

“GOOD, CALL THEM. CALL EVERYONE. I WANT THE WHOLE WORLD TO KNOW THAT I’M GOING TO KILL YOU, THEY WONT DO ANYTHING. THEY MIGHT EVEN CHEER FOR ME. ALL YOUR FRIENDS WILL LAUGH AT YOU AS YOU DIE, THEY’LL ALL SCREAM “BEAT THE MONSTER LIKE HE BEATS HIS WIFE, LIKE HE BEATS YOU“ AND THEY WILL LOVE ME, BECAUSE THEY HATE YOU. I. HATE. YOU.”, She screamed the final word, her face twisted in an agonizing position, and then she giggled and laughed and howled in laughter.

Without warning she stopped, and she grinned from ear to ear

All the lights downstairs turned off at once and I ran. I ran upstairs as fast as I could. Away from my own daughter. Away from that demented grin. She didn’t flinch at all, she just smiled, and she sat there. Waiting for the right time

I called for help but nobody answered. This is my last resort, if you’re reading this, please help me. I could pay, I have a lot of money, and I’m desperate, please. When I ran away she said one last thing to me, it chilled me to my bones. She sounded so innocent but the words were ice cold

She giggled , “ Hey daddy, don’t you want to know how you’re going to die?”

I don’t, I really don’t.

The Man with the Briefcase

Folklore is a powerful thing. Cautionary tales that, at a glance seem unbelievable, but upon closer inspection the truth of the stories come out plain as day. Every culture has it’s folklore, from the well known stories of werewolves and vampires, to the lesser known superstitions of black dogs and wild huntsmen. All of them though pose a question and answer simultaneously. Why shouldn’t you trust the unknown? Because it’ll kill you.

And of all the stories in the world, my favorite one is the story of The Man with the Briefcase. Nobody can say who this man is, if it is in fact a man. Many have reported seeing a woman, similarly garbed in a black suit and red tie, holding a Briefcase and smiling. Gesturing for them to come over and chat.

As good sense would dictate, most people avoid the man. Walking on the other side of the street, or driving past in their car, mimicking the cautionary tales of hitchhikers on poorly lit roads.

While the identity of the Man is unknown, many names have been put forth. From small town heroes and villains all the way to the devil himself. None of it can be proven of course, and while nobody can agree on the age, race, or sex, of the man there is one thing they can all agree on, and that’s the contents of the Briefcase.

What is in the Briefcase, you ask? The answer is simple. Contracts.

Hundreds and hundreds of contracts. You see, those foolish enough to seek him out all do so with one purpose. To make a deal. He’ll offer you anything you want, money, power, fame, health, at a price.

Like most things, the price depends on what you’re buying, but it’s certainly not money. And it’s definitely not worth it. Because as this story goes,when you deal with the devil, you’re liable to get more than you bargained for.

From the outside looking in John Carlisle looked like an average man. He went to work every morning and came home and hugged his daughter every night. The girl’s mother wasn’t in the picture anymore, but that was no great loss, as she was hardly in the picture to begin with. John would cook dinner for him and his daughter, they would play games, watch TV, and anything she wanted.

Something about this picture just wasnt quite right though, and no it’s not that she was spoiled beyond belief, which, if you believe the stories, she absolutely was. No, you see, Though John loved his daughter more than anything on earth, there was one problem, John’s daughter was dead.

About a month prior, John was out for a walk with his little girl , when tragedy struck. The woman in her car was running a little late, and being a little reckless, but that’s ok she thought. She didn’t notice the little girl slip and fall off the curb and into the street.

John was a wreck understandably. He shut himself off from the world in grief, he barely spoke, he barely ate. He went to work most days. Clearly the company wouldn’t run itself, but even that became infrequent. We are left to assume that he didn’t tell anyone about what happened, although it’s hardly news that can be swept under the rug.

That’s when one of his more superstitious employees brought up the Man with the Briefcase.

“But you don’t want to go there.” He has said when John pushed him to elaborate,”Nothing good lies down that road”

Of course John didnt listen to that warning . While for most folklore represents an answer to our innate fear of the unknown, but to John it represented something else. Hope. Unfortunately more assumptions need to be made at this point, as there is really no information about John meeting The Man with the Breifcase, but if youll allow me Id like to embellish a little and give my own thoughts of how the interaction might have gone

John sees the man from a ways off.. He is standing in an alleyway. It’s unlit but John can see The Man clear as day. The Man smiles. He gestures for John to come meet him, and against every instinct he has, John obliges.

John stares at the man, unsure of what to say. Fortunately for him he doesn’t need to say anything.

The man sets down the briefcase.

“You want your daughter back”

” Yes” John said eagerly

“Alright then, Let’s make a deal”, The man said ” What are you willing to give?”

” Anything”

” Anything? Are you willing to give your life or soul, in order for your daughter to live?”

John was a superstitious man. I believe he would have been cautious about giving up his soul.

John spoke carefully, ” I would like to live with my daughter again”

“And you shall” The man slides over the contract,

John looks at the contract, he mulls it over unsure of what to do, but he decides to sign it.

I like to imagine the ink was red, and when he looked at his he saw a gash across it. While I did steal that from Harry Potter, many cultures have made a connection between magic and human blood. Signing a contract in blood is more than just putting your name down, you’re putting your very life on the page. And breaking a contract signed in blood is said to have dire consequences, and in some places it’s said to be impossible to break altogether.

I see it only fitting that this contract also be signed in blood.

“You have held up your end, and now I will hold up mine. Go home and your daughter will be waiting” The man picks up his briefcase and leaves.

Johns employees report that John was in a significantly better mood on the day in question. John had been in a good mood for 3 months now, and nobody knew why his demeanor suddenly changed.

His friends worried about him.

“Certainly this is a sign of psychosis” they would say amongst themselves. “He’s likely turned to drugs” others would say, but nobody could prove a thing. His friends and family decided on a home visit from a psychiatrist. John of course refused, but they decided to surprise him anyway.

Upon entering his house they were greeted by a deathly smell, and I sight just as terrifying. John was hugging his daughter. Many fathers hug there children, but something about this sight but bile to the throats of onlookers. You see, John’s daughter was dead.

Police were called immediately and John was taken to a hospital for psychiatric care. Johns daughter was laid to rest once more, her grave found to be dug up and headstone destroyed. I’ll admit, this case is perfectly explainable. John goes crazy, digs up his daughters grave, and lives with the corpse for 3 months before being found out. It’s a sad story of losing a child, and losing your sanity.

There’s one more thing though. One hint at the workings of The Man with the Briefcase. When they found John hugging his daughter, some onlookers swear she was hugging him back.

Ink

Dr. Bethany Ross was in the lab when I walked in. Dr. Ross and I never really seemed to get along. Sure we had worked side by side for 5 whole years ,but the years, if anything, just seemed to strengthen her resolve not to like me. I say all that so you understand how strange it was when I walked in to a big smile and a greeting from Dr. Ross
“Hello, Dr. Stephens. I just made the most wonderful discovery, come look.”

Dr. Ross waved me over with an enthusiasm I had rarely seen from her. On the table in front of her was a rat in a cage. It scurried back and forth as if looking for an opening to escape from, and at first glance there was nothing different about it.
“What am I looking at?”, I asked
“A rat”, she said with a smirk
“I see that.”
“Ah, but what you don’t see is that this rat is dead. 100% dead” Dr. Ross said, smiling wide.
I inspected the rat closer. It didn’t look dead. As a matter of fact it looked more alive than ever. It looked and acted like a frightened rat in a cage.
Dr. Ross smirked. This might have been the first normal behavior she exhibited since I entered the room. While we both graduated from the same university, Dr. Ross was at the top of class, and she relished every opportunity to show me how much smarter she was than me.
“You don’t see it, do you?”, she said with that awful half smile.
Swallowing my pride, I said, “I do not, what am I supposed to be looking for?”
“Look right on the neck” pointing, she looked at me, seemingly eager for me to finally see what she sees.
I inspected the neck of the rat, and again I found nothing. Starting to get frustrated I was about to turn towards Dr. Ross. About to exclaim that this must be some sort of joke, and I was not amused, but before I could, I saw it. A little black spot on the back of it’s neck. The spot was bald, and perfectly circular.
“It’s a parasite,” I said in wonder
Dr. Ross was ecstatic, “Yes, a parasite, a parasite with full control over the host body. If not for the mark it leaves on the skin it would be completely undetectable through observation alone.”

I kept quiet for a moment, not wanting to admit how cool her discovery actually was. After a moment though, I came up with a question.
“How does the parasite know how the rat would react to the cage?”

“Observation,” Dr. Ross said, without missing a beat, “this parasite can lie dormant for days or even weeks in order to observe the host brain and once it becomes familiar it destroys the host brain and takes over almost seamlessly.”
“Interesting,” I conceded, “and how does this parasite infect the host”

” Ah, the million dollar question, as far as I can tell a simple touch will do the trick.” Dr Ross grinned wide. ” It’s like a parasitic virus, same organism in different hosts.”

In hindsight, I would note this response as strange. Though Dr. Ross and I graduated at the same time, she had always been somewhat of a genius. I wouldn’t go so far as to say she’s smarter than me, but well, she is.
Surely she would have realized the implications of this intelligent, invisible parasite, and would understand just how dangerous it could be if it got out. But instead of taking preventative measures, she just smiled. A smile of genuine excitement, as if she couldn’t be happier by this development.

Dr. Ross looked away for me for a minute, spying the digital clock on the wall.

“Wow, I have been here all night,” she said, “I really should be heading home”

” Right, of course” I responded, my mind preoccupied “Congratulations on your discovery, Dr. Ross”

I extended my hand and she shook it
“Thank you, very much”, she said with a nod, and she exited the building.
Maybe I’m overthinking it, but as she withdrew her hand, I saw a black dot on the tip of her index finger.
Maybe it was just ink.
God, I hope it was just ink.

Rules to follow at Jack’s Magic Shop.

Rule #1: Read the rules. I made this rule #1 because it is the most important. Too many times Ive had to go to court to hear “How was my client supposed to know that the six year old girl following him home was actually a 9ft tall demon that was going to chop off his hand.”

Maybe you should have read the rules, and you’re lucky she wasn’t hungrier that day or she would have cut off a lot more. Just read the rules. They’re at the front of the shop for a reason

Rule #2: Never tell anyone your name. Even if they insist. I will never ask you your name. I will never tell you my name. Yes, I realize my store is called Jack’s magic shop. Jack is not my name, But if you must refer to me you can call me Jack or Mr. Jack.

Rule #3: Less of a rule. More of a disclaimer. Yes, We do have a “Genie”

Yes She will grant you anything you wish for, and yes it will 100% backfire

“Genies” aren’t real. She’s a demonic creature. An old one. No matter how witty and clever and creative you think you are, anything you thought of, she thought of a thousand years before you were even born. So fair warning, If you wished the girl you’ve had a crush on for ten years fell in love with you, don’t be surprised when you find yourself tied up and locked in her basement.

Rule #4: If a man with a briefcase walks in while you’re shopping, ignore him. He’s not important to the story. You don’t know what that means. You shouldn’t know what that means. If you do know what that means then I regret to inform you that the man with the briefcase doesn’t exist but you are in grave danger. I wish I could help more. I’m sorry.

Rule #5: If you get home and notice you accidentally took a doll you didn’t buy. Ask it a yes or no question. “Are you hungry” , “Are you evil”, “Are you secretly a demon in disguise” etc. If the doll doesn’t answer, return it to the store immediately. If the doll answers yes or no, stab it. Stab it until you’re sure it’s dead. Meaning if you ask yourself ” Is this dead” and your answer is “maybe”, it’s not dead enough. You may feel silly or stupid stabbing a doll repeatedly, but the thing that comes out of it if you don’t is much harder to kill.

Rule #6: If you enter the store and everyone’s head snaps to look at you with a creepy smile. Obviously you should walk back out. Obviously something bad will happen if you walk in. Walk out and walk back in. If the same thing happens again, just go home. It’s not worth it

Rule #7: No Singing. I will shoot you. That goes for sirens ,as well as human. Inversely, if you notice someone singing, slap them, or get them to stop anyway you can. Even if it’s your friend, boyfriend,or heck even your mom. Because I will shoot them. It wont be a fatal shot but it will hurt.

Rule #8: For people who walk home from this shop, if you see a six year old girl following you home, confront her and ask “Are you lost?” If she says yes, escort her to the police station. The police station is right around the corner in case you didn’t know. From the shop go to the right and take the first right and just keep going you’ll see it eventually. When you get there ask for Officer O’Brien

Then leave. The girl will be fine.

If when you ask her and she says no ,run to the police station. When you get close yell for Officer O’Brien. Hopefully he will save you in time.

Rule #9: Be kind to employees. Nothing bad will happen if you don’t but you will be kicked out. I guess that is bad but not as bad as some of the other things.

Rule #10: We have a potions testing range in the back. We have a lot of things, from flying to invisibility.However, potions are not to leave the store. Security will find you. Put bluntly, They don’t need potions to fly, and they don’t need to see you to know where you are

Rule#11: If I ever try to kill you, don’t hesitate to kill me first. It’s not really me. It’s a shapeshifter. I would never try to kill you. Emphasis on try

Thank you for reading these rules, and thank you for shopping at Jack’s magic shop. I hope you have a wonderful day.

Jack