Why Is The Tails Doll Creepypasta So Popular?

<<She Belongs To Me, She Just Doesn't Know It Yet>> “Just let me go. I promise I won’t tell... I... I won’t say a word.” “Shhhh.” He whispered, placing his hand on my mouth, hard enough to stop me from talking, soft enough to not hurt. God, no, I don’t want this, I don’t want any of it. “Spread your legs, Kitten.” His voice was rough I didn’t. I just kept sobbing, my tears touching the injury he carved on my chest made it hurt more. “Pl... please...” came out as a mumble instead of actual words. “Now.” He sounded like he was starting to get pissed off. *** Moving into college was supposed to be a new start for me, but with a masked stalker on my trail, surviving is near impossible, I don't belong to him, but he thinks otherwise and he wouldn't mind breaking every will power I have until I accept it. Trigger warning from author: This book is dark, if unapologetic villains in books bother you then this book is not for you.

I always thought my husband, Ryder, was forced to marry me. For six months, he wouldn't touch me. I tried everything. I wore my sexiest lingerie. I guided his hands over my burning skin. I could feel how hard he was, completely out of control. But at the last second, he'd always push me away, gasping. He'd finish me with his fingers instead. My hope died. I decided to leave him. I was ready to accept a top dog trainer position in Europe. The night before I planned to hand him the divorce papers, I heard voices from his study. Ryder, talking to his best friends. "Ryder, you're dying for her, man. So why won't you touch her? Another man's going to snatch her up!" "But she's so fragile..." Ryder's deep voice was filled with pain. "You know... I'm a monster. If she sees what I really am... it will terrify her." His voice dropped to a raw whisper. "If she really needs... comfort... from another man... I can take it. As long as she comes home to me in the end." His friend growled. "Stop! Then maybe stop posting on that encrypted dark web forum, asking for help!" Monster? What did that mean? Late that night, I used his computer. I found a hidden forum called "The Den." A pinned post at the top. Thousands of replies. User ID: Midnight_Howler. One sentence. Dripping with desperation and frantic obsession: "I finally married the girl I've loved for years, but I'm terrified to touch her. How can I survive my rut without hurting her, without her discovering my secret?"

My computer suddenly froze. The next second, my sister, Josie Bennett, appeared on the screen, covered in blood. Her face was white with terror as she screamed, “Nina, help me!” I looked at the pack of entities behind her, and my heart lurched. How had she gotten into a horror game? And an S-rank instance, no less. I had no time to think. I teleported in immediately. The moment I arrived, I saw a girl stomping on Josie, yanking her hair as she looked down at her with smug contempt. “You little brat. Still trying to call for help? Do you even know whose turf this is? Once you cross me, nobody can save you.” The players beside her quickly chimed in. “Exactly. Winnie is the woman of the top guy in this game. If you want to make it out alive, you’d better learn your place.” I stopped in my tracks, stunned. The top guy’s woman? Wasn’t I the final boss of this horror game?

I was a housewife with severe OCD and a serious cleanliness obsession. I accidentally entered what I thought was a wholesome parenting game where I beat the crap out of my rebellious son, smothered my adorable daughter with love, and ripped out the corpse-stitching on my husband to sew him back up. On the day I cleared the game, the three of them tearfully sent me off. Only during the final settlement did I learn the truth: my husband was the ultimate boss of the horror game. My son was an infamous demon who left no players alive, and my daughter had crushed the skulls of a hundred players. Wasn't this supposed to be a parenting game? Turns out, I had walked straight into a horror game.

To pay off my student loans, I started doing spicy streams online. I never thought I'd actually blow up. Every night, my audience floods the chat, fawning over my face and my body. I love the attention, and I work hard to give them what they want. Until I was dropped into a horror game. The first thing I saw when I opened my eyes was a rotting corpse. And for some reason, my livestream was still running. When the game’s Boss told us all to pick a weapon to die by. The other players all chose to die of old age, or peacefully in their sleep like a baby. I turned my phone to face the boss. "My fans think you're hot," I stammered. "They want me to be killed by... well, by the weapon between your legs. They said 'deeply.' Is that... an option?" The other players whispered among themselves. “This woman must have a death wish.” “Just watch. The Boss is about to tear her to shreds.” But no one expected the Boss to blush.

I transmigrated into a dating-sim otome game where I was supposed to romance a soft, fragile male lead. I had finally pushed him onto the bed and was just about to make my move when the long-missing system finally popped back online. [Host, I sent you to the wrong game. This is a horror game.] [The man you’re bullying right now is the horror game final boss.] I lifted my head and met a pair of blood-red eyes staring straight at me. My smile froze. “Um… you look a little tired. Maybe we should… continue this another day?” He smiled back, calm and terrifying. “I’m not tired. Go on.”