Dunwich: A Creepypasta Panfandom Game

I’ve decided I’m moving out of the Pickman house at the end of the week. If anyone could give me a hand relocating my belongings to my new apartment over the weekend, I would greatly appreciate it.

ow what the fuck hit me?

that was a shit birthday

fucking dunwich

Hi, Jim Kirk, new arrival.

Does anyone have a shirt I can borrow?

I've put in an offer on a building. By the end of the week, I'll be working on getting this place set up as a local community center for us all who came by way of the mist. I was thinking of calling it Massachusetts Institute of Strange Things so we can just call it MIST for sure. I know, it's dorky, but I kind of like it, and it'll confuse the locals. They don't seem to like strange.

Once all the paperwork's done and signed, I'll need some help getting it ready for us. There's a walk-in freezer, walk-in fridge and storage for canned goods and clothing so we can have items in stock for new people — or just people who need help — and the front will have computers, books, and space for support groups and gathering areas. The kitchen's been cleaned out of ovens and stove tops, so cooking there's not going to be ideal.

Magic users: is there a way to have a permanent glamor on the windows so that locals can't see what's actually going on inside it?

ADAM YOUNG:

Thank you, again, for your help.

BUCKY BARNES + OKOYE + CLINT BARTON + SAM WILSON:

This things got separate rooms in the basement. Looking at building our weapons' cache.

Oh boy, first tussle with the local vampires (finally!), and I would just like to say the ooze after they're dead is not the only unpleasant thing about them. None of them got any of my puns. What a waste.

Me: Oh good, I thought tonight might be another dead end.

This is where the vampire should say something along the lines of "It's YOUR dead end, little girl!"

And then we fight and right before I finish them off, I say, "I guess it was a dead end after all. Yours."

And they get a look of WHAT HEY before they're toast.

But no. What I got was "Oh good, I thought tonight might be another dead end." Various grunts and groans and then jumping at me where I beheaded him and mumble that it was his dead end after all.

It's zompires all over again, but this time with stinky ooze. Anyone know how to get this out of shoes?

Guess it's my turn to do the introductions. Hey. Buffy Summers. From California and a few years ago. Apparently, you guys already know Giles, Spike, and Faith. We're from the same universe, but oddly not the same time period. I like long walks at midnight, slaying demons, and shopping till I drop. This is not my first kidnapping — interdimensional or otherwise — and I was kind of in the middle of protecting something kinda sorta really big time important so if we could figure out a way home, that'd be great.

I have just one question though: just how many different Starbucks Frappuccinos did I miss from 2015 until 2023?

Siiince we have ~minors~ among us, it has occured that we'll need people to pretend to be guardians~ for parent-teacher conferences, official paperwork, etc.

The current thought is that ~adults~ can express an interest in being such a fake guardian, make their pitch, and then anyone who needs a pretend guardian can pick who they wouldn't mind pretending to be related to.

First up, Klaus Hargreeves.

[FILTER: FLICKLES]

Muuuuuch better than 'I am unmoored'.

FILTER: MOBIUS, RICHIE Mobius, dear Mobius. We have gone about this all wrong. For days, the illustrious Richie Tozier and I have been kicking around plans for a mixer party at Pickman without even asking you. I'm sorry! At first, it was just a little thing where we figured we could invite people to come around and eat snacks and mill around the hall, just getting to know each other, but now that we plan to have HEAPS of lobster and who knows what else, plans needs to change. We don't want to risk soiling your gorgeous carpeting and who wants to eat lobster in a hallway? Just weird, right?

Aaaanyway, I was having myself a little look-see when I found the perfect room on the first floor. We do plan to have alcohol present and I don't know how well the perfect strangers around me behave while intoxicated so I would completely understand if you'd prefer we did this elsewhere. If that's what you decide, PLEASE know that we'd still love for you to be there. We're shooting for the eighteenth but we're extremely flexible. Let me know! :)

PICKMAN POSSE, gather round. On the eighteenth of this fine month, you're invited to what will undoubtedly be the grandest mixer party of all time unless you are unreasonably rude to myself or sweet Richie Tozier*. There will be alcohol but we ask that if you are under the legal limit that you keep your little nose clean (unless it is only a deceptively little nose, you know who you are). It'll be on the first floor of our beautiful home, just follow the sounds of fun!

Not that I don't trust our young ones but I do not trust our young ones - can anyone put a magic alarm on our alcohol just in case they get a little sneaky? Thanks!

EDITED TO ADD: My excitement grows with my ever expanding inspiration. There will be a POTLUCK! Show us what you eat at home! There will be a VOLLEYBALL GAME which is going to be so much more fun than I'm sure so many of you are thinking. Just trust me. I know parties. Even if you don't play, the spectacle will be delightful. If you plan to go in hard on this game, I suggest you bring your kneepads! There is plenty of floor but none of it is forgiving.

If you're bringing something for the potluck, please let me know so that I can make sure everything has its place. If you're interested in volleyball, you should let me know that, too, but really just because I'd LOVE to know.

* ooc: be rude all u want, not a real threat ;D

I just have to say -- this is definitely the weirdest thing that's ever happened to me. And I go to a school full of werewolves, sirens, and gorgons. Among other categories.

They weren't kidding when they said this place just hands out jobs. Walked into a store the other day and was practically handed an interview. Weird.

Guess who's the newest employee at Open Carrie? Yeah, I know, weird name. Anyway, if you're looking for ammo or hunting supplies, I guess I got an inn.

[Natasha and Okoye]

I also figured this might be a good opportunity for us to stock up on supplies we might need in the future. I know the locals have been docile, but my gut tells me that might not last for long.

So we've still got people trickling in, but it seems that most of us are now put up at the Pickman House. We still have the jar of money up front if you need to buy anything, and I'm going to be putting together a closet with random clothes for any new people who need fresh clothing or just a change.

As a reminder: Spock made an application for your phone so that you can see where the ghost line is. It will also let you know where you are in relation to it. I highly recommend you download it. If you cross that line in the middle of the street, someone going out or into town might run you over.

Which is another note. I know there was some concern about supplies. However, it appears that natives to this world can cross that ghost line without issue. I've monitored vehicles and pedestrians yesterday. We appear to be the only ones affected by the ghost line so that's — you know — not ideal, but it's better than fighting over resources. It also means that you can order things online. (Jake, you can stock up on Oreos not from the gas station.)

As Faith said, there are vampires here so be careful after dark.

If you're familiar with the year 2023 Earth and would like to help out someone who isn't familiar with technology, this timeline, or this planet, let's use this post to connect up.

Hey, cool. Here's a quick question:

What the absolute fuck?

Okay now it's just writing everything that I'm saying.

How do I get it to

No, go back.

Erase that.

Shit.

I just want to type on the

Hey, so unless you know how to kill vampires, be careful going out at night. This town has got some pretty nasty ones.

If you don't know what they are, short version's this: fangs, the go out at night, they want to drink your blood and probably kill you. Giles and Spike can explain more - but G, these are worse than the ones back home, but not ubervamp level, fyi. Spike, have fun with em.

If you want to know how to kill vamps, talk to me or Rose. If you don't care or don't wanna know and you don't have a way of defending yourself and find yourself cornered, my number's [###-###-####], Giles's is [###-###-####] and the best thing to do is stay outta their way or run hard and fast the other direction.

Trust me, these kind? Aint interested in letting you talk your way outta things.

Hey, I know there's a lot of chatter happening on the network right now. Natasha is gathering up a group of people to try and organize things. Let her know if you find anyone injured or have any medical expertise.

In the meantime, I think I've got a line on a place we can stay. Apparently there's an old boarding house that's just been remodeled into a studio apartment complex, completely vacant. The owners think I'm the new manager. I say we pull a fast one, I fill out paperwork for everyone and we worry about how we're going to balance the books at a later date. Just to get everyone off the street.

The Pickman House is at [address].

If you find anyone without a phone or communication device, or someone who doesn't know how to use one, you can send them my way. We'll figure something out. Better we all stay in contact.

My name is Mobius, a few of you may know me from other timelines. In any case, nice to meet you.

Seems a lot of people have found this network. That's good. We can communicate from across the town. Thanks to Carol for that. Firstly, I'm not the Natasha from the Infinite Agency, but I'm probably a lot like her. I'm sorry to those of you who knew me there.

There's a lot of us around here, so I'm thinking we should create a command post where everyone can converge and we can figure out what to do from there. There's something weird about this town, outside of our unexplained arrival, and I don't want anyone getting stuck across the town line as a ghost. The ghost line?

I'm also hearing something about some kind of sickness going around. So-n-so's little cousin's best friend's got "angel fever." Whatever that means. None of us will have been exposed if this is a whole new dimension than the other we came from. Probably best to keep it that way.

I'm in the park across from town hall. Center of town. Look for the red head in a black stealth suit. Hair in braids. Let's try and help one another reunite and figure out what to do next.

Is anyone injured? And do we have any doctors?

Right. So....
I'm Lance. This blows.
Two things:

1.

2. Has anyone had any luck contacting anyone? Like other than anyone on this thing?

...Is this supposed to be one of those missions they were talking about? 'Cause last thing I remember is fighting some big lobster tentacle mash-up thing and now I'm here and I thought you were more organized than that when it came to the mission thing.

I don't understand. Where is the Agency? Where are we?

I fell into a body of water actual owkwa, asilik lowng asilik da eye ta kang vedi and one of the locals retrieved me and gave me this... primitive device. He didn't care to answer my questions.

Guess the only one that matters is how do we get back?

ARRIVAL

The thick, ghastly haze of the mist, once practically opaque to the naked eye, fades and opens up to a nostalgic homegrown New England town. A friendly gazebo, freshly painted white sits on a neatly mown lawn at the center of the town square. Vehicles stop at the redlight while locals cross the street, birds chirp in the trees, and a school bus stops to pick up a few children in oversized backpacks. Pedestrians walk by you without a second glance. Did they not see you suddenly appearing out of nowhere? How could they not have noticed that all encompassing fog? And why doesn’t your obviously otherworldly attire catch their attention? This appears to be a small, close knit community. And it’s clear you’re not from around these parts.

But these are simply the first of many mysteries you’re about to discover.

The further you investigate your new surroundings, the more ominous this seemingly quaint and colloquial town becomes. There’s something dark beneath its pleasant guise. You can’t shake the chill at the back of your neck and the sense that someone—or something—is watching you. Then there’s the odd graffiti on the alleyway walls and the way the locals talk about certain locations. And while the mist is gone, there are places in town that make you reminisce about the mist. Places that feel supernaturally thin. Thin enough to let in whispers from the other side. Or maybe even screams.

And don’t worry if you hear laughter or the jingling chimes of carnival coming from the rain gutters in the street. That’s just your imagination. There’s nothing down there.

Nothing that floats.