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Bottle and a Gun

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Creepypasta deuce
Bottle and a Gun
is a horror fan fiction set in the real world. It features a teenager named Aron who grew into a horror icon called Deuce.

It was once a dark, lonely summer's eve on the lonely streets of sunset when the Lord called upon one crazy MC...

Aron Erlichman was born in Los Angeles, California, but was forced to raise himself. His mother died while he was delivered as an infant, and his father later hung himself over unknown reasons in front of his two-year-old son's own eyes. He believed he was scarred for life, but fought every day to forget about what he saw.

He had always had a hobby of writing and recording his own pieces of music. In leisure time, he wrote custom songs that he titled "Dreams", "Franny" and "Breaking Through". After a few dollars gained from these songs, Aron figured that he'd soon be able to make a living writing and producing his own music. So, he found a record label called Four Seven Music, which would often be shortened to 47M, and signed to it.

He quickly became quite the artist, producing many rock-style music until he started to be fond of rapping and, then, he would mix the two styles together. His fans went crazy, and Aron would come to be known as "Tha Producer" because of his love for producing music. Aron was living the life; until it all came crashing down.

One night, in Aron's giant, expensive manor, a thief broke into his house and started ransacking the place. Aron was asleep, but was waken up just in time to find the burglar searching in his clothes dresser. Aron didn't move until the thief left the room so he could find a weapon to later attack him with. He slowly moved off his bed and searched for minutes for even the smallest weapon.

Desperate, he grabbed his lamp and started looking for the thief. Aron found him searching through his refrigerator and saw that he was wearing tattered jeans and a black hoodie, with the hood up. Aron tried to move closer, but stomped on some crackers the thief had thrown on the ground. The crackers made a loud sound and the thief looked over. Aron saw that he was wearing some kind of blank mask, and went to stop him.

Aron jumped toward the thief and tackled him down to the ground. He managed to pull off the burglar's mask to reveal his face. It was horrifying to Aron, but he couldn't help but stare. The thief's face was inhuman, unlike anything he's ever seen; there was little skin, for one. Muscle and veins were shown, and Aron wondered if he was dreaming, but he couldn't have been. The thief smelled horrible, and there were small worms rummaging around in his mouth as he opened it to say, "Get... off... me," in a horrid, raspy voice.

Aron staggered back, dropping his lamp. The thief smiled, and his left eye suddenly fell out of its socket, and was hanging there from his brain. Aron looked at the mask on the floor, then back to the thief - if you could call it that anymore. He stood up and started walking toward Aron, grabbing his fallen eye and ripping it from the tissue thread it hung on. He held it close to his face with his thumb and index finger and began to squeeze it. Small drips of blood fell out from the eyeball, until it was suddenly squished completely. The man laughed loudly and hysterically, then started screaming. Aron was terrified and backed up far enough to hit the wall.

The crazed man removed his hood, revealing small doses of hair here and there. His right arm began to throb and then an overgrowth started in his arm. First his bicep, then his forearm and finally, his hand began to blow up in size. It was like there was something growing inside of him, and there was. Aron watched as his fingers' skin began to slowly rip apart, and blood was tremendously flowing.

Eventually, the hand's fingers fell off, all disfigured on the floor. Under the hand was two large, brown claws that were covered in blood. With his left hand, the man somewhat lifted up his jacket and Aron could see small, deformed areas of skin with many bumps. He wondered what the man was doing, until he heard a strange, ripping sound. He feared the worst. The man jerked with his arm a bit and pulled out a long, rope-like organ, which is what Aron believed to be his intestines. It took only a minute for Aron to immediately run past him into the next room.

Desperately finding a way to leave the house, he found his front door, but couldn't open it; something was blocking it. He walked to the nearby cracked window to see another man, similar in appearance to the thief, trying to get through. There were more men of the same appearance trying to tear down the door and the walls around it. Aron felt he was going out of his mind and ran to his room for his cell phone. He wanted to call anyone he could get a hold of and ask them what was going on. However, once he entered his room, there were multiple human organs lying around the floor, and as Aron looked up to his bed, he suddenly saw a slight, transparent flash of a man standing on his bed.

Aron was now sweating excessively out of fright as he saw another flash of the same man, readying a noose hanging from the ceiling. He unwittingly walked further into his room and saw a large, silhouetted figure attempt to hang himself. This brought horrible memories back to Aron's mind as he tried to ignore the horror and search for his phone.

He faced his back to the figure and searched through some drawers, but suddenly felt something tie tight around his neck; something long, damp and rough. He started to be pulled back, and was trying to grab everything in the area, but to no avail. Aron tried catching his breaths, but he was being choked and there was no out of it. His vision started to fade, and he could suddenly see a small, dull light becoming increasingly bright in front of him. He knew he was surely going to die.

The next morning, Aron was lying atop his bed with multiple deep and long cuts across his shirtless body that were painfully wounding him. He felt serious throbbing in the left side of his head, and he pulled his hand up to hold it. He was then sobbing, wondering what in the world happened. Was he dreaming?

He couldn't tell anything. He started to see his hand as it was touching his head, and realized something was wrong with his vision. He could see a red tint wherever he looked, but he only had half the vision he used to. He was scared to feel his eyeless left socket, so instead started panting fast. He peeled his eyelids far from his eye, and dug his dirty, nail-lacking fingers through his eye-hole and started violently pulling and screaming loudly.

After many tries, Aron grew tired and staggered himself out of bed. It seemed to be early in the morning, as dawn had just hit. He limped himself to the kitchen and grabbed a giant steak knife. Without hesitation, he shoved it through his cheek and started to slowly carve up and around his eye.

He ignored the pain regretfully, and after a giant hole was created on the right side of his face, he grabbed his eyeball and shoved it in his pocked. He could see nothing, but felt many random cases of food on the ground, remembering his dream. He walked but two feet before he fell to the ground. He didn't care what happened anymore. He didn't want to live anymore. Before his second fade, he heard his door open in a small, muffled tone.


The next time he regained consciousness, he was lying in some type of bed. He tried moving his hands to feel what was covering his eye holes, but his arms were restrained by some type of strange sleeves. He asked, quietly, "Where am I?", hoping for somebody to hear, but no one answered. He yelled the same question and heard someone rushing in the room, gasping at the sight of Aron's state.

He felt his arms under a lot less pressure once the restraints were gone, and immediately jumped off the bed, knocking over numerous doctor's equipment and walked toward the door. The woman attempted to stop him, but was knocked over and out of the way.

He somewhat jogged out of the hospital, bumping into numerous things on the way. After he found the door, he heard the sound of crickets chirping and knew it was midnight.

At that moment, he remembered everything that had just recently transpired and ripped off his bandage, feeling the blood and puss that was draped over it. He felt like he wanted to cry, but lacked the parts to do so. Instead, he fell to his knees, shoving his fingers through his face. It was then when he came up with the first lyrics to his newest song:

I feel the pressure of my thoughts

And all that I have fought


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