Well, after yesterday's finally Riff involving Ticci Toby and Clockwork, it follows that I should do Riffs about those two, right? Well, I'm not going to, at least right now. Why? Well, in the case of Ticci Toby, I have to get permission from the author to use that story (and with my luck if I use it without the author's permission, he'll find me and be angry and not have a sense of humor), and from what I've read, it's not terrible. In the case of Clockwork, it's because the only place I can find it is on Wattpad, and I can't copy things from there, and I'll be damned if I have to rewrite that crappy-ass story word for misspelled word. (If anyone can find where Clockwork is in text form and is copyable, please let me know in the comments. That story really needs to be Riffed) So, after all that, I decided that I would Riff a well-known and pretty good pasta: "The Rake."

Yep, the guy I like to consider Slender Man's messed up little brother (they both have 'Sigma Radiation', stalk people, and cause victims to record themselves sleeping) is going to have his story Riffed today. "But wait," you exclaim. "The Rake is a good Creepypasta. Why are you Riffing it?" Well, a few reasons. First, I wanted to Riff a good pasta, which is something I haven't done before. The closest thing to a good pasta I've Riffed was "They Hate Us and They Want Us To Die." Granted, it wasn't bad, but it wasn't great. (That being said, I do recommend checking out other works by the writer of that story, BanningK1979. He's done some good work) Second, I didn't feel like going to the Jeff the Killer Wiki, since I feel that I've beaten that dead horse way too much. At the very least, I need a break from that. And third, the whole Clockwork and Ticci Toby thing. So, yeah. Get your fertilizer and shovels out, because I'm Riffing "The Rake."

During the summer of 2003, events in the northeastern United States involving a strange, human-like creature sparked brief local media interest before an apparent blackout was enacted. Not just any media blackout, but an apparent media blackout. Little or no information was left intact, as most online and written accounts of the creature were mysteriously destroyed. Except for the information accrued here, and in many many many fan fictions.

Primarily focused in rural New York state and once found in Idaho Wait, Idaho? I didn’t know anyone or anything really cared about Idaho., self proclaimed witnesses told stories of their encounters with a creature of unknown origin. It’s better that it’s origin remains unknown. If it was known, believe me, we’d all be disappointed. Emotions ranged from extremely traumatic levels of fright and discomfort, to an almost childlike sense of playfulness and curiosity. Wait, on whose part? Was it the Rake who showed these emotions, or the people who saw the Rake? While their published versions are no longer on record, the memories remained powerful. Except for the witnesses who have Alzheimer’s. Several of the involved parties began looking for answers that year. “The answer was 42.”

In early 2006, the collaboration had accumulated nearly two dozen documents dating between the 12th century and present day, spanning 4 continents.So in less than 3 years, random people have been able to find information about the Rake going back to the 12th century? Ok then. In almost all cases, the stories were identical. “They all sucked.” I’ve been in contact with a member of this group and was able to get some excerpts from their upcoming book. Has the book been released yet? Also, they think that their book will get released, even though there was media blackout because of the reports of the Rake. I feel like the US government or SHIELD or the SCP Foundation might prevent that book from getting released.

A Suicide Note: 1964

"As I prepare to take my life, I feel it necessary to assuage any guilt or pain I have introduced through this act. It is not the fault of anyone other than him. “Yes, Greg, it’s your fault.” For once I awoke and felt his presence. And once I awoke and saw his form. “It was beautiful. You could grate cheese on those abs…” Once again I awoke and heard his voice, and looked into his eyes. “I can see my reflection in here!” I said. “Wait, is there lettuce in my teeth?” I cannot sleep without fear of what I might next awake to experience. I think next time, the Rake would whisper in this guy’s ear, “Don’t you cry, I’m going in dry.” I cannot ever wake. Goodbye."

Found in the same wooden box were two empty envelopes addressed to William and Rose, and one loose personal letter with no envelope:

"Dearest Linnie, Wait, Linnie? Why do Creepypasta stories have side characters with such weird names?

I have prayed for you. He spoke your name "and wondered what kind of name Linnie was.""

A Journal Entry (translated from Spanish): 1880

"I have experience the greatest terror. “I saw Batman and Robin.” I have experienced the greatest terror. You said that. I have experienced the greatest terror. Wait, so did you experience the greatest terror? I see his eyes when I close mine. They are hollow. Black. “Darker than Tim Burton’s nightmares.” They saw me and pierced me. Pierce the Veil: The Early Years. His wet hand. Oh, I get why he found you. He just need a towel or something to dry his hands. I will not sleep. Jeff the Killer is dying inside. His voice (unintelligible text). Oh, come on, man. If you’re going to write about a being called the Rake, at least have the decency to write neatly."

A Mariner's Log: 1691

"He came to me in my sleep. From the foot of my bed I felt a sensation. So is the Rake a rapist? Or rather, a Rake-ist? Get it? Yeah, sorry. He took everything. “Why he took my collection of bobbleheads is beyond me.” We must return to England. “God save the king, gov’nah.” We shall not return here again at the request of the Rake. Wait, the Rake asked you to travel by sea? Did the Rake say, “Hey, guys, you should just take a trip on a boat. It will be fun! And if I randomly appear at the foot of your bed, don’t worry, it’s all good.”"

From a Witness: 2006

"Three years ago, I had just returned from a trip from Niagara Falls with my family for the 4th of July. Wait, isn’t Niagara Falls in Canada? They went to Canada for the 4th of July? You aren’t true Americans! ‘MURICA! We were all very exhausted after a long day of driving, so my husband and I put the kids right to bed and called it a night.

At about 4am, I woke up thinking my husband had gotten up to use the restroom. “The smell from the bathroom made it clear he did.” I used the moment to steal back the sheets, only to wake him in the process. Wait, if you’re there, and your husband is in your bed, then... who was phone? I apologized and told him I though he got out of bed. When he turned to face me, he gasped and pulled his feet up from the end of the bed so quickly his knee almost knocked me out of the bed. “As it was, he gave me a concussion.” He then grabbed me and said nothing. “He didn’t need to. The large urine stain made it clear what he wanted to say.”

After adjusting to the dark for a half second, I was able to see what caused the strange reaction. “A human-sized piece of beef jerky. Wait, that was just Steven Tyler.” At the foot of the bed, sitting and facing away from us, there was what appeared to be a naked man, or a large hairless dog of some sort. Dude, seriously, if you’re going to freak people out, put on some damn clothes. Its body position was disturbing and unnatural, as if it had been hit by a car or something. Imagine if the Rake was hit by a car. “Holy crap, what did we hit?” “Oh, you know, some lesser known Creepypasta character. It’s all good.” For some reason, I was not instantly frightened by it, but more concerned as to its condition. There’s a large grey hairless thing with claws that would make Wolverine green with envy sitting at the edge of your bed, and you’re concerned about it? Ugh. At this point I was somewhat under the assumption that we were supposed to help him. Well, you know what they say about assuming…

My husband was peering over his arm and knee, tucked into the fetal position, occasionally glancing at me before returning to the creature. “Oh, don’t be scared, honey, we just have to help him.”

In a flurry of motion, the creature scrambled around the side of the bed, and then crawled quickly in a flailing sort of motion right along the bed until it was less than a foot from my husband's face. The Rake moves via spazzing apparently. The creature was completely silent for about 30 seconds (or probably closer to 5, it just seemed like a while 30 seconds is not a while.) just looking at my husband. “You, sir, need to consider plastic surgery.” the Rake said. The creature then placed its hand on his knee and ran into the hallway, leading to the kids' rooms. Let’s see, it’s a Creepypasta story, there are kids who have non-abusive parents…oh boy, they’re dead. I screamed and ran for the lightswitch, planning to stop him before he hurt my children. Because the light switch will stop the Rake. When I got to the hallway, the light from the bedroom was enough to see it crouching and hunched over about 20 feet away. He’s following you, about thirty feet back. He gets down on all fours and breaks into a sprint. He turned around and looked directly at me, covered in blood. My god, there’s blood everywhere! Seriously, I’m starting to think that Shia LeBouf song was about the Rake. I flipped the switch on the wall and saw my daughter Clara.

The creature ran down the stairs while my husband and I rushed to help our daughter. Aren’t you still concerned about the Rake? She was very badly injured and spoke only once more in her short life. She said “Ow, this hurts.” "he is the Rake". And she said it without capitalization. Also, how does she know this? Did the Rake stab her, and say, “Oh, by the way, I’m the Rake, nice to meet you.”

My husband drove his car into a lake that night, while rushing our daughter to the hospital. They did not survive. Big help you were.

Being a small town, news got around pretty quickly. The police were helpful at first, and the local newspaper took a lot of interest as well. Let’s hope People stays away. Last thing we need is “Rake Victim’s Sex Life.” However, the story was never published and the local television news never followed up either. “You see, we would publish it, but we don’t think the Rake is a good name. Maybe something like the Shovel would work better.” For several months, my son Justin and I stayed in a hotel near my parent's house. After we decided to return home, I began looking for answers myself. I eventually located a man in the next town over who had a similar story. However, his story involves a tutu and transvestite named Bruno. Shame we didn’t get that story. We got in contact and began talking about our experiences. He knew of two other people in New York who had seen the creature we now referred to as the Rake. Because gardening equipment is terrifying.

It took the four of us about two solid years of hunting on the internet and writing letters to come up with a small collection of what we believe to be accounts of the Rake. It would’ve been quicker, but their searches for the Rake pulled up a lot of ads for gardening equipment. None of them gave any details, history or follow up. One journal had an entry involving the creature in its first 3 pages, and never mentioned it again. Ugh, I just hate it when plot points are just ignored or thrown out. A ship's log explained nothing of the encounter, saying only that they were told to leave by the Rake. “Captain's Log: We have been told to leave by a being called the Rake. I have decided to do so because he threatened to destroy my toupee if we didn't.” That was the last entry in the log.

There were, however, many instances where the creature's visit was one of a series of visits with the same person. “These visits usually involved tea and crumpets.” Multiple people also mentioned being spoken to, my daughter included. The Rake usually said something along the lines of, “Don’t worry, I’ll leave you in STABle condition. Get it, because I’m stabbing you? Anyway, you’re going to die now.” This led us to wonder if the Rake had visited any of us before our last encounter.

I set up a digital recorder near my bed and left it running all night, every night, for two weeks. Lady, this is not a Slender Man ARG. You have no reason to do this. I would tediously scan through the sounds of me rolling around in my bed each day when I woke up. By the end of the second week, I was quite used to the occasional sound of sleep while blurring through the recording at 8 times the normal speed. (This still took almost an hour every day)

On the first day of the third week, I thought I heard something different. “’The Collective says hi.’ What the fuck?” What I found was a shrill voice. Justin Bieber? It was the Rake. I can't listen to it long enough to even begin to transcribe it. Have someone else do it then. I haven't let anyone listen to it yet. Why? All I know is that I've heard it before, and I now believe that it spoke when it was sitting in front of my husband. Because…why, exactly? I don't remember hearing anything at the time, but for some reason, the voice on the recorder immediately brings me back to that moment. Because it’s the first time you met the Rake?

The thoughts that must have gone through my daughter's head make me very upset. Her last thoughts were, “Oh, that pun was terrible. Thank god he’s killing me.”

I have not seen the Rake since he ruined my life, but I know that he has been in my room while I slept. He sees you when you’re sleeping, he knows when you’re awake. He’ll appear at the end of your bed and scare you because he’s the Rake. I know and fear that one night I'll wake up to see him staring at me. ALWAYS WATCHES, HAS EYES."

So that was "The Rake", probably one of the best pastas I've Riffed. Is it perfect? No. But it's leagues ahead of other pastas.

I was turning to go and do something else when I saw a large faceless figure in a suit and a hat.

"Hola." He said.

"Ah, El Catrin. How have you been? Good? Because you know who hasn't been good? Indo." I told him.

"Indo is the reason I'm here."

"You're going to take her?"

"No, the mark on her is a tracer of sorts. I knew where you were for a while."

"Then what took you so long to come here?" I asked, trying to clear up a plot hole.

"I...anyway, you're going to die." he answered, not clearing it up in any way shape or form.

"Right. Well, I've got a few words to say to you: Tezrak Neik Soxul."

As soon as I said that, El Catrin faltered a bit. Not giving him any time to recover, I took a lightsaber from my back, and cut off his arms, legs, and tentacles.

"How...?" he asked.

"How did I know the Tongue of Darkness? A little birdy informed me. Or are you wondering how I defeated you so easily? Well, let me put it to you this way: I'm the Goddamn Dorkpool, you son of a bitch, and I don't take kindly to half-assed ripoffs of a tentacle hentai hurting the girl I love. Be glad you're useful to me, or you'd be dead." I told him. Doomsayer appeared, because as a member of the Collective, I suppose he has the power of teleportation or whatnot. "Take him to the brig." I told him. Doomsayer nodded, and did so.

Hopefully Indo will be better now, and maybe those little phrases at the end of my posts will be gone, because they're annoying as hell.

So, what do you all think? Was it a good idea for me to Riff "The Rake"? Are you annoyed at how quick the confrontation with El Catrin was? Do you wish the Rake would kill me? Leave your thoughts in the comments below.