hi here my chuddy creepypasta oc Eurick Breuler ♡
i wrote this two years or so ago so it’s not my best work, and it is a creepypasta story so of course it’s cheesy and cringe, but that’s ok.
here he is be kind to him world
Seventeen year old Eurick Breuler walked briskly in the direction of his home, launching and smiling along with his friends as the sun began to set behind them. Eurick was a simple boy, he liked to write poetry, and he liked to dress in blouses with frills opposed to the rest of his generation in tacky t-shirts. He liked to take long walks, and he liked to watch movies, and he loved taking care of children. He had a good circle of friends, and he was a good student. Eurick was so full of love.
Eurick’s mother and father were not. They were bitter and frail-hearted… sensitive. Every night seemed to involve snarky words exchanged with each other, and on occasion, Eurick. Never his younger sister or brother. His parents had some standards. Mrs Breuler was beautiful, with pale green eyes and long brown hair. Mr Breuler wasn’t too shabby either, with his gelled back salt and pepper hair, and gray eyes that pierced any other. Eurick was almost a spitting image of his mother… besides his one gray eye that matched his father.
Tonight in specific was going to be bad. The tension settled into Eurick’s bones as the wind whispered into his ears, feeding into whatever fear was building up. As he reached his front door, wishing his friends goodbye as they continued onto their own homes, he could hear the faint voices of his mother. He could feel the venom on her tongue through the walls. Eurick reached for the doorknob, then let it go with hesitance. His hand shivered, the shaking slithering down to his stomach, curling into a puddle of anxiety. He began to trudge around the side of his house, looking out for the window to his room. His father fancied himself a gardener, and he’d covered the side walls with heavy wooden lattice, flowers growing all over it, the only opening into the house being the open window to Eurick’s room. It would be a beautiful and inspirational sight to Eurick if he wasn’t so aware of how horrible his father was. He didn’t deserve the gorgeous white flowers that grew here.
Eurick climbed the lattice, tumbling into his room with a thud. He hadn’t yet mastered how to gracefully enter through an open window. The sleeve of his blouse had caught on a stray thorn, ripping it about half open. Eurick whispered a curse under his breath, which is something he rarely did. He whispered another as he could hear the click-clacking of his mother’s heeled shoes racing up the stairs to his room. He sat there on his knees as his door was slammed open.
“Eurick! Go through the door next time, idiot boy. You aren’t some Shakespearean hero, you have no business climbing through the window!” Mrs Breuler said through gritted teeth.
Eurick nodded, avoiding eye contact with his mother as she continued to grumble.
“Is this about all that paranoia again? Is the poor baby paranoid? Oh, grow up, Eurick! Everyone is scared sometimes! You have no reason to be paranoid.” His mother droned on, “I’m so sick of you saying there's something wrong when you’re normal! You have friends! You have a family that loves you and a home to come back to!”
“I do not.” Eurick hissed, his head turned down and away.
“Well, if that’s how you see it, fine. Since it’s just so horrible here, since me and your dad are just awful, then stay in here by yourself!”
Eurick’s door was yanked shut after this. The rattling of the hinges rang in his ears. The regular guilt of the situation didn’t settle in like it usually would, Eurick couldn’t feel much of anything. He felt blank. At least, as blank as he could.
His mother always disregarded his constant unsafe feeling. Eurick always felt as if he was being watched, or talked about. His mother or father never cared.
Heavy pounding came up the stairs next a couple moments later, matching sounds coming from his door before it was opened roughly, but not slammed.
“What did you say to your mother?” Eurick’s father waited with a hand on his hip.
“I didn’t say anything. Why do you never ask her? You always come to press into me. She’s your wife, you should be able to speak with her.”
“Don’t talk to me like that, Eurick. You know that your mother and I are… in a sticky situation.”
“Either way, she’s the adult, I’m the child,” Eurick’s voice wavered.
Mr Breuler sighed in an annoyed manner, “You’re goddamn seventeen. You can talk to your father. Grow up, Eurick. Are you scared of me, or something? Honestly, if you were, maybe you’d be better behaved.”
Eurick dragged himself into a standing position, the breeze from his window sneaking into the torn part of his sleeve to give his arm a chill. The memories of his father and mother fighting fluttering around in his mind. He’d dealt with so much from his parents, he was so tired, but he couldn’t leave this house. His siblings were here after all. Eurick brushed past his father, trudging across the hall into the room of his twin siblings, both just ten years old.
“Amira, Freddie…” He muttered quietly.
His siblings were sleeping peacefully, not awoken by the thuds or slams. Thank goodness. Eurick gave them both a soft kiss on the head, tucking them in with his bruised hands with boney fingers before exiting their room.
The whispers in Eurick’s ears grew louder… closer. They swarmed his head like bees, yet he couldn’t make any words out of the staticky sound. He tried to swat it away, stumbling down the stairs, knocking into the railings with a wince. His feet tripped outside the sliding door leading into the backyard. This open outdoors made everything so much louder, Eurick’s vision clouding and blending together in a big gray mess. His back slammed against the door of his father’s gardening shed, causing the back of Eurick’s blouse to scuff and rip, falling backwards as the big wooden doors fell open from the weight of Eurick’s body. Eurick skidded backwards, dragging himself deeper into the small shelter with his now scraped up hands, panting and weeping as the loud fuzzy noise continued to seep into his brain through his ears.
The Dim light from the hanging lantern in the shed couldn’t calm like usual, especially since now it began to flicker and shake, suddenly falling with a crash. The glass spread around the floor by Eurick’s feet. His eyes were wide and crazed, and seemed to shake in a way. Everything was so much. It had never been this bad.
If Eurick’s parents had never disregarded him this would have never happened. He would be a normal boy. It was all his parent’s fault.
Eurick slowly rose to his feet while he shook violently. His head swiveled to look around the shed. His father’s favorite gardening shears caught his fearful eyes. They had long blades, and his father kept such good care of them… they were so sharp, and the muted blue handles were well kept and looked like new. Eurick’s pale and brittle hand reached out to grab them. They felt so natural in his hands, they gave him a new sense of security. He could easily keep himself safe with these.
The thick brown coat hanging from the hook on the back of the doors caught his eye next. Eurick put down the shears for a moment to slip on the jacket. Behind the jacket, his father’s hand gun was strapped to the door securely. Eurick took that as well, tucking it into the inner pocket of the jacket. He began to dig around in the drawers of the countertops, finding the ammo he needed soon after, and tucking it into the same pocket. His hands returned to the sheers, holding them tightly.
He wasn’t in his right mind, and he knew it… and he knew what he was going to do to make it all stop. The static whispers had turned to rumbling inside his head. His feet led him outside the shed, his eyes catching glimpses of the tall, faceless man that he had seen only in his dreams. The moonlight almost made the figure’s glitchy white skin illuminate, in a weird hazy way. Eurick’s face, still riddled with fear and panic, wide eyed and twisted into a sickly tight lipped smile.
Eurick turned away from the figure and down to the pocket watch that had resided in the jacket. The night was still young enough for him to cause his ruckus, the hands just barely marking it as eleven thirty. His parents were definitely sharing their nightly three bottles of wine. This habit of theirs always made Eurick sick. He’d never had his friends over for sleepovers because of it.
The soles of Eurick’s boots met with the softened soil of his family’s backyard, the grass being squashed beneath his harsh and irregular steps. He stepped through the doorway of the same sliding glass door he stumbled out of before, holding his shears close to him with shaky hands. The door let him into the kitchen, his parents sitting at the island, chatting tensely over two and a half empty bottles of this new wine they had bought that just said Josh on the bottle. Eurick took dizzy steps towards them, his eyes wide and almost swollen from his strange mental state.
“What the hell are you doing with those?” His father slurred.
His mother hiccuped, “You scary asshole. Put those– back where you… got them.”
Eurick’s smile grew more open as he took in the information that was displayed in front of him. His mother had obviously drank more, making her defense lower than her husband’s.
He held the handles of the shears tighter, opening them nice and wide. Eurick held them right in front of his chest, his face was visible in the space between the blades, the dim lighting in the kitchen highlighting his wide open eyes. He looked like something from a horror movie.
“Eurick! You’re being a freak! I’ve had– enough of this,” Mrs Breuler shouted as she stood up quickly.
His mother’s sudden movement was enough to trigger Eurick’s reflexes, taking the shears and closing them around his mother’s torso, splitting her open in the most messy way possible. This was the only time Eurick was grateful for his mother’s devotion to diet culture.
His father groaned rather than letting out a scream, his voice shaking, unlike his body which just stayed there in his seat. Mr Breuler was never much of a fighter. The bile rose to his throat quickly as he kneeled over, vomiting up the wine, steak, and mashed potatoes from dinner earlier. This gave Eurick the perfect opening to plunge the bloody blades into his father’s back. The tip of them protruding out his father’s chest.
“Are you scared of me, or something?” Eurick mocked, recalling the words his father said to him earlier, “Maybe you should be.”
Eurick heaved his weapon from the bodies of his parents, taking one of the pristine white kitchen towels from the counter and wiping the blood away, staining the towel red. He draped the blood soaked towel over his mother’s torso where he could now see her spine poking out from ever so slightly, taking another one and laying it on his father’s puncture wound.
Seeing the hole go all the way through his father’s body reminded Eurick of when he’d tried to dig to the other side of the world in the backyard with his siblings. His sickly smile turned more sweet, now that his siblings were safe from their parent’s drunken wrath. The twins wouldn’t see this mess, they knew never to come downstairs when dearest mommy and daddy were drinking. They wouldn’t have to know yet.
Eurick didn’t bother with any more cleaning up. Instead, he began his stumble towards the back door. His steps remained unusual, but he began to regain his footing. He could tell what he did, he processed it quickly, but he had no issue with it. He did what he had to.
The white figure’s silhouette danced in the extra light that overflowed from the shed, the lantern somehow restored and glowing more violently than before. Eurick trudged over to the shed once again, taking the lamp from its new place on the counter, holding it by the handle in his open hand. The light reflected off of the shiny shear blades, the weapon still having faint blood spots in some areas.
The seventeen year old left the shed for the last time. He looked back towards his family’s house, all the lights off. It looked so peaceful from the outside. It was something like dying… memories of his life here flashed before his eyes as he lingered around the back gate that led a way to a nearby park on the outskirts of town. Eurick was leaving a piece of himself behind. The part that was held back and tortured for so long by people that didn’t support him.
He shook his head. He’d have time to ponder all this on his walk to… wherever he’d go now. The woods were just under an hour walk away. A couple tears pricked at his eyes as all the things he’d be leaving became apparent to his mind. His siblings, his friends, his chance at a normal future, it was all gone now. Eurick never wanted anything normal anyway.
He made his way through the park quickly, taking a few short moments to admire the familiar scenery he’d grown to love through his childhood years, but he couldn’t waste too much time.
Eventually, he made it to the edge of the park, where his hometown and the wilderness met. He kept walking until his boots met with moist soil from the lake. He took his phone from his pocket, having just enough cell service to make one last call. His pale fingers tapped the numbers on the screen in a pattern.
“Hello, operator? Yes, hello… I’ve killed my parents. I live at 1847 Valley Lane. Please send someone to collect my siblings. They’re sleeping upstairs, so be quiet. I’m not there anymore, so you won't find me, and it’d be useless to try.”
Eurick hung up the phone without giving the person on the other side to get a word in. He tossed the cellular device in his hand a couple times before smashing it into a rock, then throwing the remains into the lake that was just outside the heavily wooded area on the outskirts of his small town. With his deed done, his siblings taken care of in a way that was satisfactory for now, and no way for anyone to track him, Eurick began to walk a path into the woods he’d never taken before.
'Marble Hornets Compendium: The Complete Comic Series' cover reveal! Debuting this year at TCAF. Foreword by Tony Vacation.
Kind of hard to put into words what it's like to see seven years of my life working on a graphic novel come together into a singular book. I started this comic series fresh out of college, being 23 when I made Issue 1. Even though I'm an entirely different person now, and my style has changed, I'm very proud of it all. I've been changed and moved by the people I've met and come to know through making this. I hope you all enjoy it as much as I enjoyed bringing it to life. Much love and gratitude.
-Jackie
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