Talk:Gregory Casket/@comment-28714243-20160822124236

Theory time!!! this theory was made by my friend @vt._.fluffy._.emo on instagram, enjoy! btw sorry for the long story..

“ … Three… Two… One! Ready or not, here I come!” The small, shaggy looking nine-year-old proclaimed. He giggled as he started running around the Casket Family’s large backyard, searching in every nook and cranny for the eldest of the boys, and his best friend, Jimmy Casket. Jimmy was already attractive like their father and mother, despite only being 12. Gregory still had the round and adorable face of a child, and he was treated like one as well. At times like this, however, he enjoyed it. “AH HA!” Gregory cried, “I found you Jimmy!” The child was standing next to a tree looking up at his brother. “I guess you did Greggy.” Jimmy smiles at the beaming child, and ruffles his dark brown hair until it looks messy and adorable. “I’m proud of you. Now c’mon… It’s getting dark and we have to make dinner.” He sighed at the thought. ‘More work… Does it ever stop…? Well… It would be easier if mom were around…’ The boy frowned slightly and quickly dismissed the thought. Gregory was a very observant and smart kid, and he saw that Jimmy was tired and upset. “Can I cook this time Jimmy?” The boy was giving his brother puppy dog eyes again, like he often did when it came to helping out in the kitchen. Jimmy had always refused, and this time was no different. “Absolutely not. You’ll end up stabbing someone, and I don’t want you to hurt yourself. You know how dad gets when you hurt yourself…” His face grows solemn as he says the last sentence, then before his brother can protest, he pulls him inside and closes and locks the door behind him. Jimmy sits his brother on the couch and turns on the chunky and old TV to some cartoons. He then goes to the kitchen and grabs a pot, turns on the stove, fills the pot with water, and starts to make Mac n’ Cheese, Gregory’s favorite. Gregory is having a hard time paying attention to the cartoons, so he stands up and walks to the kitchen to watch his brother cook. The boy admires the way Jimmy does everything. ‘He’s so cool… When I grow up, I’m going to be exactly like him.’ He thinks to himself, watching him with the childish sparkle of admiration in his eyes. There is a loud and high pitched ‘Ding Dong’ that comes from the door. Jimmy hurries off to go answer it, leaving Gregory alone in the kitchen. By now, the water has started to boil and Gregory is just tall enough to see over the counter. He grabs what he thinks is the too to stir the water, and he examines the sharp edged, flat, and cold object that he holds in his small chubby hands. Suddenly he feels a sharp twinge of pain in the same hand he is holding it in, and then what feels like fire shoots through his hand and up his arm. He lets out a small yelp of pain and immediately drops the bloody knife to the floor, it clattering against the tile. Jimmy runs into the kitchen, having heard his brother’s distress. His eyes widen and he pales as he sees the scarlet liquid dripping off of his brother’s small hand, and onto the clean tile floor, landing next to the bloody knife. The blood was dripping on his blue t-shirt and his torn up and grass-stained jeans. Jimmy quickly runs over and grabs a clean white towel. He grabs his brother’s bleeding hand and wraps it in the towel tightly, stopping the flow of blood quickly. The boy quickly picks up the knife and tosses it in the sink, and he turns off the boiling water. “What were you thinking?! I told you not to come in the kitchen!! You KNOW that!” Jimmy shouted at the boy. He saw tears start to fill his big brown eyes and he immediately regretted shouted. “I-I… I was just trying t-to help!” He stuttered, sniffing back tears. “W-Why’re y-you so MEAN!!!” Gregory couldn’t hold it anymore, and he just sobs. He had had enough of this. The small boy shoves his older brother back with brute force, slamming him into the sharp edge of the counter. Jimmy’s eyes widen as he stumbles back and his head collides with the sharp counter, and he feels what he thinks is a thorn stab into the back of his head, then his world goes black. Blood seeps out of a gash in his head, getting his dark brown hair all sticky and bloody. Gregory watches in horror as his older brother’s body crumples to the ground like a ragdoll. His once bright and lifeful soft brown eyes are now blank and lifeless. After staring for a minute, he starts to see blood pooling around his head, and his chest tightens with panic and fear. As fast as his legs can carry him, he bolts to the phone that is surrounded with emergency numbers, and he calls his dad. “Hello?” His dad’s familiar voice rings through the phone. He bursts into tears and talks faster than his tongue can move. “DadsomethinghappenedandIpushedJimmyintothcounterandheisbleedingeverywhereandIdon’tknowwhattodopleasehurryhomeIneedhelpNOW!!!” He manages to choke out through the sobs. He just hears a ‘click’ of the phone disconnecting, then a dial tone as his father hangs up and calls an ambulance. 12:42, August 22, 2016 (UTC) Gregory runs home from school, not even bothering to say goodbye to the people he hangs out with at school. As soon as he gets home, he grabs the small cardboard figure out of his backpack, and then throws his backpack. He sets the small cardboard toy on the counter, then turns on the stove, grabs a pot, fills it with water, and puts it on the stove to boil. As he finishes, he looks at the scar on his hand. “Don’t worry Jimmy… I’m coming in 10 minutes. I just have to make you some Mac n’ Cheese first. I have a surprise for you!” He smiles at the thought of seeing his brother again. After he finishes with the Mac n’ Cheese, he puts it in tupperware and grab the cardboard man, then runs to the hospital. It’s been a few months now, since he’s seen his brother, and he wanted to surprise him. He was 11 now, and he knew how to cook the best Mac n’ Cheese there was. Gregory knew that Jimmy would like it. When he opened the door to his brother’s room, he dropped the tupperware in complete shock. Jimmy was sitting completely upright. He turned towards him and smiled widely. “Hey Greggy… Long time no see, huh?” “I… I thought… The doctors… They said you wouldn’t wake up!!” Tears of joy filled his eyes as he looked at his skinny, pale, long-haired, 14-year-old brother sitting in a hospital gown. Jimmy just chuckled. “You can’t get rid of me that easily little bro…” Gregory runs over and wraps his brother in a tight, warm embrace. Jimmy returns the hug, weakly. The little brother sobs with joy and drops the cardboard man. After about 10 minutes, they let go of each other. Gregory looks at the old bandages wrapped around Jimmy’s head, then looks at his face. He manages to whisper a small ‘I’m so sorry…’ before he starts to cry again. He shakes his head. “No no no… Don’t cry… It isn’t your fault…” He smiles softly and kindly, like the brother he loves. But something seems… Different about him. Gregory can’t put his finger on it, but he can see something in his eyes. Something evil, something that doesn’t belong there, something that isn’t his brother. “Why don’t you go tell mom and dad that I woke up? I want to see them.” The way he says it, is almost pleading and it sends chills down his spine. Gregory was no longer comfortable being around his brother. He was happy his brother had provided him an excuse to leave. “I will! Right now! Bye!” He runs out quickly, not waiting for a response. He quickly tells a nurse that he is awake, then hurries home to his father. Him and his father talk for a bit, mostly about Jimmy, and by the time his father is ready to see him, visiting hours are over. Gregory was glad he had stalled long enough, so they both went to bed. Gregory lie awake in his bed, not feeling sleepy at all. His heart's still racing from talking with his brother. He can still feel the icy, emotionless stare that his brother had given him, and it causes him to shiver. For some reason, he feels as if he’s being watched. Quickly, he whips his head around to look at the window, his door, then the closet to find… Nothing. Chuckling, he runs his hands through his hair. “I’m being paranoid… Just go to sleep…” But he still can’t shake the feeling of eyes. He closes his eyes and tries to ignore it, and eventually drifts off into a restless sleep. THE NEXT MORNING Gregory wakes up to the smell of coffee. He sits up and rubs his eyes, glad that the feeling of being watched has gone. Standing up and stretching, he shuffles downstairs and sees his dad drinking coffee and watching the news. “Good Morning sleepy-head.” His father chuckled at the squinty-eyed child. “Morning…” He mumbles groggily. His dad has already turned back to the news, so he decides it’s time to make himself breakfast. As he pops the bread in the toaster, he leans against the counter and watches the news. “In other news, a teen has been reported missing after breaking out of a hospital last night and killing three nurses in the process. Police are still looking for him. If you have any information on the where-abouts of Jimmy Casket, you’re asked to call this hotli--” The TV screen goes dark as his dad turns it off. Gregory stands there, mortified. He had no idea his brother had broken out of the hospital last night. ‘They said he KILLED three nurses… That… That can’t be Jimmy… It’s not Jimmy. They’re lying.’ His blood runs cold at a thought. ‘What if that was him watching me last night… What if he was sitting right there and just WATCHING me… A killer…’ He needed to find Jimmy and figure out what was going on, because he didn’t believe the news. He had to know for himself. Gregory wanted to see it, and he knew exactly where to go to find him too. 12:42, August 22, 2016 (UTC) Gregory’s footsteps crunched the dead grass around the broken down shed. His stomach was churning because he could see small dots of red painting the grass leading up to the shed. He stood in the doorway, his legs locked in place and his throat as dry as the desert. The feeling of dread in the pit of his stomach would not go away, and he couldn’t help but feeling like a prisoner being marched into the room with the electric shock chair in it. But he knew what he had to do. With feet as heavy as led, he stepped into the shed. As soon as he did, a wave of what smelled like moldy food and rotten eggs mixed with cow manure and iron hit him hard, and almost made him pass out. His knees buckled and he knelt down to vomit. When he regained himself, he stood up straight and wiped his mouth with his sleeve. He lifted his foot to take another step, but something wrapped around his neck and held tight, and he felt those cursed eyes watching him again, and he knew what was coming next, though he tried to fight it. His fingers clawed desperately at the sweat-shirt covered arm, but to no avail. Only then, did he feel the cool sharp knife pressed to his neck. Frozen with fear, he gave up fighting. He had lost. The last thing he heard is something he will never forget. A voice as smooth as stone, yet as cold as winter. A voice that had deviance, hatred, slyness, and pure psychotic intentions hissed in his ear; “DO YOU WANNA KNOW MY SECRET?”