Winnie the Murderer

I know you’re not going to believe this, but I’m a murderer. I used to be normal (or as normal as you could be, what with bipolar disorder and autism AND being homeschooled and antisocial), but, y’know, shift happens. Anyway, I don’t have too much time to write this; the police are on my arse because I killed someone who, quite frankly, deserved it. I mean, who the heck tries to train their house cat to be evil? Not only is it NOT GOING TO WORK, it’s pretty much pet abuse!
Sorry. I’m getting off topic. This happens a lot.
So, this is my story. I’d advise not reading too much into it.
So, I was 13 when this all happened. Yes, I know, “thirteen is an unlucky number”, blah blah blah, shut up. It’s the facts, plain and simple. What, am I supposed to say I was 14? Because I wasn’t.
Sorry. Off topic again. 
It was my birthday, and of course all three of my friends were there. We were messing around with my computer, and I left the room to get some tea. I’m addicted to the packets that you can get for cheap at the store. Can’t go a day without the stuff.
Anyway, they must have been messing around with my save files for the various video games on my laptop, because the next thing I know, all three of them are screaming as weird pictures flash on the screen. At this point, I walk back in, take a sip of tea, look at the screen, and promptly spit it back out. “WHAT THE HECK DID YOU DO TO MY LAPTOP?!”
“W-we were just messing w-with one of t-the games! We d-didn’t expect it to do this!” One of them sputtered. He pointed at one of many gory, gruesome pictures flashing across the screen. “W-what do you even store on this computer that it’s doing this?”
As I took a closer look at the pictures, they all looked similar. I blinked, and realized. “Oh. Now I know what these are. These are just screenshots from my video games, guys. What’s so scary?” I closed the game tab and frowned at my browser. “And what’s with Ouija board tab open?”
“Oh, we were messing around with that, too.” Allie (names are changed for privacy reasons) shrugged. She always was hard to scare. “It just introduced itself as Zozo, and then the game opened by itself.”
I paused, puzzled. “Are you sure you didn’t install a virus on my computer? Because I will literally kill you if you did.” All three shake their heads yes, and I sigh with relief. “Well, in that case, you summoned a demon on my computer and I’m STILL gonna kill you. Just not literally.”
‘Zozo’ chose that moment to make itself known. The tab started glitching out, and I frowned. “You stop that, you bastard. Get off of my computer or I’ll stab you.”
The screen only glitched more in response, before forming the letters, “No escape.”
I threw the laptop across the room. It broke, making an odd staticky noise as it shattered. Which laptops aren’t generally supposed to do when thrown, but whatever.
Two days later, I was drinking more tea (see above paragraph) when my cat attacked my leg. This was a daily assurance, but today’s attack seemed to have more urgency in it. I pushed her off of my leg and stood up. “What is it, ca-“ I didn’t get a chance to finish, as I was promptly bonked on the head and fell over unconscious. Pretty embarrassing.
When I came to, I was in a lab. I know, plot of every lab-based horror movie or horror story ever, but I’m serious. It was an ultra-modern lab, and in a tank was a hyper-realistic Sam the Septic Eye. Or, well, it looked like that through the green tank and green goo. (I’m a total JackSepticEye nerd.) I, myself, was strapped to a table, with some IV in my arm, because apparently they had time to do that.
I attempted to sit up, to no avail. “What the…what’s going on here? Is this like the plot of a terrible creepypasta?”
A figure emerged from the shadows. “No. You are a lab rat for an experimental potion-like substance that we found randomly sitting beside some old game cartridge in a dumpster. We believe it has the blood of gods in it, or it could just be trash goo.”
“Isn’t this illegal? Not to mention unhygienic.”
“Shut up and drink your milk.” The figure jammed a carton of milk into my hands. I raised my eyebrows. “Um, I can’t exactly drink anything like this.”
“Oh, for god’s sake….fine! Jesus!” The figure untied me, and I promptly judo-kicked him in the face like a proper lady should when being tied up in an unhygienic lab by people I can only assume were either A, perverts, B, not scientists, C, stupid, or D, all of the above.
I picked up the idiot in a black lab coat. He stared at me with frightened eyes, and I looked at him with fury in my eyes. “TELL ME WHAT’S GOING ON HERE.”
“U-um, we are worshippers of the great god Zozo, god of destruction, death, and-“ I cut him off mid-sentence. “Wait, Zozo? Weird demon guy? Why does he have a stupid name? Do you know? Why are you injecting trash goop into people? Who else is here??”
The man fainted. I dropped him, picked out my IV, and jammed it in the artery on his neck. As I left the room, using his keycard to exit, I flipped him the bird.
Outside the lab was incredibly dark. There were various baddies in bright labs shut off from the hallway by doors and occasionally bars. I peered into a few of them. One housed a doll that looked suspiciously like Chucky; another housed what looked like a person, but made of shadows and with bright red eyes. The third housed a bunch of cats that were attacking each other. I swiped the keycard on that door, opening it. The cats swarmed out, going around me as I watched them. They promptly killed some guy (who’d come to check on the fact that the door that said ‘DO NOT OPEN UNDER ANY CIRCUMSTANCES’ had been opened), stole his keycard, and opened every other door that could be opened. An alarm sounded, and dozens of lab workers stormed into the hallway.
The Chucky wannabe promptly went after three of the lab workers, armed with a stick and a gun. The cats chased another ten, killing them and stealing their keycards. Smart cats. They scattered, going down the corridor and opening yet more doors.
The shadow person stood there, killing anyone who was stupid enough to get close to it. All I can say is that if you’re really that stupid, you deserved to die.
Many others took on other lab workers. I took on the head honcho, who had stupidly decided to come out and investigate. A swift kick to the head, a snap of the neck, and I had myself a master card. I ran up the hallway, hoping to find an exit, and an exit I found, as well as a door marked ‘666’.
I opened the door, and promptly ran out the exit.
Flash forward another two days. The thing from door 666 had followed me, and turned out to be….a cat. A black cat with green eyes, in fact. And abnormally long claws. Of course, I couldn’t talk. I’d recently found out that the ‘trash goo’ gave me heightened hearing…and that’s literally it, besides turning my eyes blood-red. It caused heads to turn, that’s for sure.
On the other hand, I practically had spider-sense now. So that was a thing.
We had gone on a lab-worker-murder spree, and were now plotting our next move - to a lab near my hometown, BioDen. Rumor had it that they’d managed to turn the crappiest creepy pastas into reality, which was truly a crime against humanity.
“So, we break in, shoot or disembowel everyone, and run out?” I asked. The cat, whom I’d christened Christessa, nodded. We bumped fists - or paws -and headed out.
That about brings us up to now. Everyone in that lab is dead, and all the test subjects freed.
Still, I better give you a warning. Don’t look behind you. It doesn’t matter if there’s a wall behind you, death is coming. You cannot escape it. You’re next.
(No seriously. It’s coming.)
(Seriously.)
(I’M SERIOUS.)

MURDER SPREE CONTINUES - 100 DEAD


''Literally no one cares because everyone dead was a douche''
In case you didn't realize this, this is a purposefully bad pasta.