Creepypasta: Iris the Storyteller

"My name is Julie. This happened a long time ago, and I have almost got over it, but lately it has come back to haunt me. I have the feeling that she is watching me, and she will put an end to my life whenever I put my guard off. I will die anyway, it doesn't matter anymore, but I want to warn everyone out there about her before it’s too late.

I was 12, and it was a beautiful day. She showed up in front of my house, her right face was covered with a bandage, her wavy brown hair was let down to her waist and her brown eyes were red from crying. She claimed that she was Iris - my brother’s girlfriend. My brother – Josh – go to a far away school from our house because he said he wanted to try to live on his own. My parents always supported his decision, since he was the one that never did anything wrong. He told us about his girlfriend once or twice, and this girl fitted perfectly with his description, except for the bandage. My parents welcomed her with hospitality. They asked her about Josh. The girl paused for a second, looked down in sorrow and informed us that he was brutally murdered, his body hadn’t been found since. My mom was devastated, my dad was trying to stay strong and calmly asked her to tell us everything she knew.

She stayed for dinner. She told us everything. She said my brother and her family had just finished dinner when suddenly the light went off. Her father went to check if everything was alright, but he never came back. The next thing she knew was running and hiding for her life, her right face was injured by the murderer while she was trying to save my brother. She said she was able to escape and stay alive thanks to his sacrifice in attempt to save her. There was no one left, except for her. And she said that she needed to look after my family and take care of us for my brother. She cried.

The way she told the story was so innocent and so sincere that my parents immediately took a liking on her. They were appreciate that she had come and treated her like their daughter. She was nice to every one, even my neighbors liked her too. But I couldn’t help thinking that she was hiding something.

There was once I saw her without the bandage. Only in mere seconds, but I saw it. Under that bandage were three long, deep scars ran along her right face. She noticed me staring at her, so the girl quickly covered her scars, gave me a faint smile before fixing her eyes on my bruises. Her eyes went wide, she asked me why I got those and I told her everything about Leah. A 17 years old slut of my school. That son of a bitch kept swirling around, telling the guys from the football team to punch people for her own amusement and she would have a night with them in return. I didn’t know why I told her the truth that I was being bullied, since I had never told anyone, including my parents. But this girl somehow made me felt safe whenever I was around her. She took care of my bruises, thought up an excuse for me to tell my parents and told me: “Everything will be alright. A good child never punches people. Leah will get what she deserves sooner or later.” She gave me a soothing yet mysterious smile before leaving the room.

The next thing I knew was Leah’s death. She was brutally murdered, next to her corpse was a note which contained a short paragraph describing her death and the reason why she should die. All was written like a story. The words were so convincing that even some of the policemen secretly agreed to what the murderer wrote, but then when their eyes caught the sight of Leah’s bloody corpse and her intestines scattered on the floor, they immediately removed that agreement off their head.

Weeks passed. The murders in my town increased. That was when I realized, most victims were somehow related to my family. Leah, my dad’s boss, my mom’s annoying patient and some of the bullies that often picked on me. I didn’t know why, but I knew that it was her. The murderer was the girl that I was sharing my house with. I couldn’t tell the police about her, not after what she had done for my family. My dad was promoted since his boss has died and he was the only one that was capable of replacing his boss. My mom finally got rid of that patient who had made her struggled for months. And I, I was no longer bullied since most of the bullies were killed. The rest of them were too afraid of the anonymous killer to pick on any of the other kids. She helped us too much. She somehow had taken a place in each of my family member’s heart. She was like a sister to me, the big one that I could always have her shoulder to cry on and she would take care of everything for me. I knew this was wrong. I had been thinking and thinking and thinking then finally decided that I should talk to her. Maybe she would listen to me? Since she was always tried to protect me?

I went to her room, knocked, waited, but the door wasn’t opened. I tried to turn the door knob and to my surprise, the door opened. Eerie silence filled the room, but I didn’t see anyone. It was 2 a.m. Where was she? Right then, the window of her room opened. The girl climbed in through he window, covered in fresh blood, a sadistic grin etched on her no longer innocent face, the bandage was removed, revealed three long, deep scars that made her appearance somewhat disturbing. Seeing me, her smile fainted a little bit and almost turned into an annoying frown, but then it grew wider. She asked me what I was doing in her room, I told her what I thought and tried to convince her to stop her killing. The girl wiped away the blood on her face, threw her black leather jacket on her bed, kicked her black boots straight to the corner of the room, smiled, and said: “You’re a good child, but your parents aren’t”.

She then pushed me out of her room, locked the door. I was panic, what did that mean? I banged on her door, tried to ask her for an answer, but it remained silence. I sat in front of her door, hoping to stop her if she tried to harm anyone of my family, but then I fell asleep.

My parents were dead by the following morning. Two notes were left next to their corpses. The reason in my mom’s note was heartless. She took the money from the families of her patients, but then she left them when they needed her most. And my dad, he was cheating on my mom, he even had two other kids with another woman.

My neighbors were dead.

Iris was gone, nobody but me seemed to know about her existance.

I moved to my aunt’s house. It has been five years since that incident. I have never told anyone, even the police about the third note that I found in my house that day. It was a note for me since it was placed on my window. It read: “You’re a good child. Keep up the good work and everything will be alright.”

I thought I have got over it, I thought I will never see her again, but yesterday when I woke up, there was a note on my mirror: “I saw you cheated with your cousin’s boyfriend. Bad kid. You’re just like Josh. A good child would never do that.”

She'll come for me, I know it. There's no point in callin…"

~~o0o~~

- The entry was ended there.
The policeman said. They found Julie’s body this morning, unrecognizable as she was tortured to death. They found the note as well, but they have never found the killer.