★ kee speaks reddit nosleep rules stories? yes. this will be long, about 10k words. part of this concept and some of the rules were made by iqazul so credits to her :DD warnings: blood, language, slight gore, mentions of a cult and someone loses their mind a bit oopsie

and yes i did get inspiration from the photo above

"Like I give a shit about people like them," I muttered angrily to myself, digging the tips of my shoes into the gravel, sitting on a bench. The air was cold and thick and fog hung in the air, although it hadn't rained at all. It seemed like the world was in grayscale.

"Stupid. Stupid, stupid, stupid." I didn't have anything but a few coins in my pocket after leaving my bag at the party. What was the point of carrying a bag full of empty pens and makeup and cologne that I wouldn't use? Why did I have to bring all those other items when all I had to do was to hand over the letter? And why couldn't my father just say the message on the spot? Couldn't he have written it down?

"Stupid to even agree." I sighed and got up from the bench. I had stayed there for too long and the murky atmosphere of my town was getting darker than what was considered as midday. My father had brought me over to a venue for some business celebration. I didn't know anyone there but him. Everyone who I tried talking to was snobby and rude, so I climbed out the bathroom window.

"The place doesn't even look nice." I didn't even bother to put on a dress. Instead I wore an olive sweater, black leggings and my mom's thick old coat. I had traveled with my father all the way from the city to this old town. The aesthetic was nice, but the houses sometimes scared me, like I was being watched. I saw the river coming up and turned towards its path.

The black water churned and flowed past. The bushes on my side were a dark solid green and rustled at every gust of wind. Suddenly, a blood-curdling screech pierced the air, making me snap my head up and clench my fists. The sound was horrible, like nails on a chalkboard mixed with a woman's scream and a screeching animal. It came from my left side, where the brick houses and dark alleys were.

A chill shot up my spine. Were those footsteps? The sounds got heavier and gradually started to sound like there was more than one being approaching.

On my right side was the mansion we first passed on our way here. It was like a small castle with sand-colored walls, big windows with dark lining, a courtyard and a mountainside behind it. The thick fog hung over the roof. That was the one thing that made me feel the worst, like it had eyes. I mean, everything in that town felt like it had eyes, but I pictured this one to have a hundred bloodshot orbs of horror, because that's what it made me feel.

Another faint screech sounded out, and I glanced toward the mansion one last time. "No, not today. I'm not dying without wearing my favorite shoes." I started speed walking to the mansion across the river.

I stared intently at the cement under my feet. I didn't want to run. There were at least a dozen other people in the area and I didn't want them to think I'm suspicious or trespassing. They didn't seem to hear the screech, though. I didn't dare look back as more sounds of footsteps joined in and I felt more than one presence behind me.

"Oh God. Oh God, no." I shut my eyes for a moment, seeing a boy running to me from the opposite side of the bridge. If he lived there, he would most likely question me. He saw me and we locked eyes. I cursed and stopped, turning around, but the boy caught up to me and cried, "Don't!" As he said it I felt his hand around my arm.

"Sorry, I'll go now," I pushed his hand away and avoided looking up but he pulled my wrist again.

"Don't. You can't...you can't leave."

"Watch me." I glanced over his shoulder at the mansion, stepping backwards. Something brushed against my back and wind blew my hair forward.

"Stop it!" The boy yelled, sounding mad, but I heard a hint of fear. "She's..." He glanced at me. I just stared back. "She's with me. She's not gonna leave."

I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. "This has to be a joke," I retorted, beginning to turn around.

The boy stormed over to me and grabbed my sleeve, steering me towards the mansion. It was like he wanted to push me, but he didn't.

"You didn't listen. Three times. Three damn times! Do you know how dangerous that was?!" We reached the end of the bridge and he faced me.

"How dangerous what was?" I asked, glaring at him.

"I...I'll explain inside. Let's go."

"Hey! I'm not going anywhere alone with you. What was that? Who are you? Who were you talking to?"

I bombarded him with questions, staying on my spot as he tugged on my sleeve, turning towards the mansion. The fog seemed to get thicker. He sighed and turned around. "Shut up and wait till we get inside! What's your name?"

"What's your name?"

"You first."

"No."

"Why?"

"Because I want to know you first!"

"Not until I do!"

"Fine!" I began to turn around again but he held my shoulders and pulled me forward, so I stepped off the bridge.

"There! Now you can look behind you. What's your name?"

"My name's—" I stopped, unable to process what I saw for a moment. The bridge was gone. There was no bridge in the first place, by the looks of it. Not anywhere up or down the river. I was standing on the edge of a solid, man-made riverbank, several meters above the water. "Y/N. It's Y/N." I recovered from my shock. "Your turn!"

"Connor. Now let's go."

"Connor, the bridge disappeared. Doesn't that concern you?"

"I've only—" He stopped and looked towards the thick trees on the mansion's right side. "Do you hear that?"

I froze and listened. A woman's voice was calling, and I knew that voice. Y/N! Y/N, help me with the luggage! There's a lot to unpack!

I gasped. "Yeah, I hear it. I'll be back, I just-I just have to help my mom, she's calling me."

"Y/N, that's not your mom. You have to stay with me."

"How do you know it's not my mom?" I snapped. "She's a-she travels, she likes to travel, I have to help her with her things," I whined.

"Y/N, please!" He gripped my arm harder than I expected. "That's not your mom. Your mom's dead."

It was like being pulled out of water, or being woken from a dream. He was right. My mom was dead, she died 4 years ago. Why did I think she would be here? "How did you know she died?"

"Whatever's calling you in there is copying the voice of someone who died, someone to lure you in. That also means we should get inside. It can't go out and feed in the day, alright?"

"What can't feed in the day?"

Two more screeches came from the trees. Connor muttered something under his breath. "If you don't want me to pull you again then you better follow."

I clenched my fists and followed him into the mansion. The double doors were lighter than I expected and were carved with images I wasn't able to look at properly because a strong gust of wind blew our way and I had a feeling I really had to go inside.

"Don't just go anywhere without me," Connor said, his voice echoing around the place. He scanned the area, then when he seemed satisfied, he turned back to me. "We have to stick together."

The marble stairs, polished floors, wide open curtains, and dusty furniture made me uncomfortable, but it was nice to know there was another person in the same situation. I slowly made my way beside him. "Hey."

"Yes?"

"If you hear a dead person calling you from the trees, whose voice did you hear?"

He hesitated for a moment. "My brother, Travis."

"Oh," I said quietly. "I'm sorry."

"You don't have to be. Let's go to the bedroom now, come on." He held out his hand.

"Excuse me?"

The sound of a child laughing echoed through the room, and I saw a small silhouette running under the stairs, playing with what looked like a yoyo.

"We have one minute. Let's go, Y/N, it's one of the rules."

I made a tsk sound, frustrated. "What rules?"

The child laughed again, crawling out from underneath a table and running away.

"Y/N."

We sped up the stairs, and I was glad I had my coat because it was colder inside the mansion. I shut the door with a bang. The room was what looked like a Victorian-era bedroom, with a big window facing the mountain and a bathroom. A black jacket lay on the bed along with a broken tile. The cold bit at my sweaty hands.

"Shit," Connor hissed, making his way toward the window and nearly tripping over a brick on the floor. He opened the curtains wide and made sure they stayed that way. He saw me staring at the broken tile, then the brick. "I tried making them into weapons. I don't like having my hands empty," he explained.

I nodded. We were only on the second floor, but the fog had reached us and many birds flew outside, chirping and tapping the glass. What disturbed me, though, was that they had no feathers, or skin. Just pulsing pink flesh.

I cringed. "What are those?"

"Don't mind them. They can't hurt you or get inside as long as you keep the curtains open."

He was shivering. His stormy blue eyes avoided the window. I picked up the jacket from the bed and saw a piece of paper lay under it. The broken tile fell to the floor and a corner of it chipped off. "This yours?" I asked.

"Yeah, thank you."

"So," I said, taking off my shoes and sitting on the pillows, "Now can you explain?"

He exhaled shakily, pulling the jacket over his red shirt. "Um, this mansion's not mine. Unless you haven't noticed, it's haunted and something's wrong here. I swear on my life, the Earth, the River Styx, my ancestors' graves, whatever, that I'm human too. I got here maybe a few hours ago. There are rules, there, on that paper, that we need to follow if we want to live."

I frowned. "This is real?"

"Want me to pinch you or do you want to do it yourself?"

"Never mind. So what are the rules?"

"I'm getting to that. It's only you and me here, and from what I've learned already, this room and the music room upstairs are the only safe places where we can do anything we want. We can't just escape, by the way. I'm still trying to figure that out. Everyone else, no matter who or what they are can't be trusted and you have to interact with them properly."

"That's it?"

"I guess so. The rest is in the paper."

I picked up the paper. It was frayed and old, but the writing was made with ink that looked clear and new.

"Hello. If you are reading this, then you were unlucky enough to hear the Screech. You see, the mansion you are in right now is the only building on the other side of the river for good reason. It's visible to the naked eye, but only people who hear the Screech are given the bridge to feed the Entity. The Screech you'll hear is from the First Entity, which is harmless because its only job is to scare you and make you cross the bridge. There will be someone there on the bridge to make sure you don't look back while crossing the bridge, human or not. They're good, don't worry. If it's not human, then it will disappear after you reach the end of the bridge. They can look behind you, but you can't. If you're reading this, then you didn't look back. Good job. If there's another person approaching on the bridge, it's your job to make sure they get across safely and don't look back."

"There are four Entities, but the Fourth is the reason why you got called. Our best guess to kill the Fourth Entity, and hopefully the rest of them, is to let them starve. You can escape by getting someone to replace you if you came with another person, because the Fourth Entity only needs one meal in 169 years. If you all want to survive and escape, follow these rules."

Feed? I thought. I shifted in my seat and continued reading.

"1. When you arrive, it will be before nightfall. If you arrive earlier than that and decide to explore, you'd find this letter. (Time works normally, don't worry. You can use a watch, a candle, an electronic device and it will show the correct time. Any other apps won't work on your device, just the time, battery, and compass, of course.) You can go outside if you want to, just don't listen to the voice calling you in the woods, no matter whose voice it is. That's the Second Entity, and it only uses its voice when it's hungry. Don't go out at night, either. That's the time when it can go out. Let it starve."

"2. Sometimes you'll hear someone singing or see a child playing. Go to the master's bedroom on the second floor and open the curtains. Never close them no matter what you see. Always keep the curtains open in the room you're in. If you're in the master's bedroom, and the curtains in the main room or kitchen or any other room are open, that's fine. Just make sure they're open where you are."

I glanced at the window. The skinless birds were gone, but now little hands were patting mud down on the glass.

"3. If a butler knocks at your door and says he has food ready, refuse. You can say any variations of 'no', but just don't to anything other than refuse. Make sure to open the door when you do this and close and lock the door after. The butler will only appear when you're inside a room. (+3. If he insists on giving you your food, say no, close the door, and hide anywhere. It doesn't have to be a good spot, he won't turn the place upside down or touch anything. When this happens, close your eyes no matter what you hear or feel."

As if on cue, two sharp knocks came from the door on my left side. "Your dinner, sir."

Connor looked at me expectantly. "You try it."

"N-no," I stuttered.

"Why?"

I gave him a hard look.

He got up and I heard the door swing open. "No, thank you." The door shut and the lock clicked back into place.

"See, it's not that hard."

"Have you gone through all of the stuff on this list? I mean has it all happened to you?" I asked, scanning the thick paragraphs.

"No."

I nodded.

"Still regarding the butler, if he comes inside, stay hidden. You'll hear him leave, don't worry. When he exits the room, you can go out already. Check if he left anything on the windowsill. If he did, keep it and lock the door again. Always lock the door. If he didn't leave anything, go to the music room and make sure to lock both doors behind you.)"

I looked up. "This is a lot about the butler."

"Sure is. You done yet?"

Shaking my head, I sighed and continued reading.

"4. If the painting of the woman in your room (both the music and master's rooms have a painting of her) starts moving or emitting sounds—"

I stopped again. "The painting?" My eyes were drawn to a big framed painting of a woman above the dresser in the corner. She wore a navy blue dress and her hair flowed down her shoulders. A mansion that looked like the one we were in now stood in the back, with a bunch of people in dark clothing beside it. She was smiling lightly, chin propped up on her folded hand. Her gray eyes seemed to glitter, dark skin cracked and faded from age of the image. The painting was beautiful in a way, but haunting.

Connor looked at it too and got up. "Y/N, put on your shoes. We have to go."

"Go where?" I asked, getting to my feet and pulling my shoes back on.

"We have to put the painting outside, hang it up, and sit under it because she didn't look like that 5 minutes ago. And in case she asks questions, tell the truth. Don't leave until she says 'good'. And please," he paused, "try not to scream. This hasn't happened to me since I got here, either."

I nodded and began helping him bring the painting out of the room. As I reached for the doorknob he asked me when my birthday was.

"(Any month after April/birth day), why?"

"The older one needs to answer first. Unless you're older than 15, I'm answering questions first. Just in case."

"I'm 15, yeah. So I'll answer after you?"

"Mhm."

The sky had no stars, just the bright moon with its light shining through the slightly grimy windows. The long hallway was empty and was lit with yellow light. We hung the painting on the screw sticking out of the wall and sat under it with out backs against the wall.

It was awfully quiet except for the sound of Connor's feet tapping against the floor and my own breathing.

"You okay?" He asked.

I gripped the hem of my shirt. "Yeah. What about you?"

Suddenly there was a weight on my head and Connor was cut off. I stared at the floor, waiting for something to happen. I held my breath without knowing it. A few seconds later my hair was yanked backwards and I hit my head on the wall. I gasped.

"How far would you go to leave this place?" A raspy voice asked. It was the woman in the painting's voice, and it was so loud and clear it sounded like it was coming from inside my head. her grip on my hair tightened. She sounded like her mouth was full of a thick liquid, but more specifically, blood.