Advertisement
Please wait...

World Of Winona



Estimated reading time — 8 minutes

Winona Worlds was the girl everyone wanted to be. She had it all. Fantastic grades, excellent painting skills, great looks, popularity, and the most loving boyfriend one can have. Girls and boys envied her equally. Everyday, she’d sashay down the halls, silently boasting about herself. She’d arrive in denim mini-skirts and leopard pink crop tops, hair clips keeping her black bangs out of her face. And her relationship was one someone would kill for. Her boyfriend, Raymond, would buy her the pinkest camellias he could find. She’d show up in the new clothes daily that he’d buy for her. He was her king, and she was his queen.

But, of course, all beautiful things soon turn ugly — and die.

One fateful October day, Winona didn’t come to school. In fact, nobody in her group came to school, not even Raymond. Where’d they go? They’d usually be runway walking down the school halls by 8:30, but it’s 9:14. What happened to them?

Even the teachers seemed to be confused. Never have they ever seen a whole group of students go missing so fast.

Mrs. Curtis, the math teacher, walked out into the hall. She stood in front of a group of kids outside of Winona’s locker.

“Get away from there!” she demanded. She walked over to them, flailing her hands around while they fled. They turned, mid walk.

“What’s going on? Where is Winona?” asked one of the kids. Mrs. Curtis seemed distressed. She couldn’t properly answer. While fixing the stickers that slowly peeled off of Winona’s locker, she paused and licked her lips.

“I can’t say. Please, go back to class.” They obeyed. They all separated to go to their classes, confused. She stood there, fixing all the stickers. One of the stickers was a heart with “Raymond” inked onto it. Seeing the sticker shattered her heart. She rubbed her thumb against it, rubbing some of the ink of accidentally. It seems whoever wrote it had written it recently, as the ink wasn’t dry. She walked back into her class, sorrowful. She knew something nobody else knew.

But someone else was about to know.

One of the children, Ashanti Westbrooks, had exited the school without Mrs. Curtis knowing. Pressing her small body against the cold school doors, she jogged away from the school, holding her backpack by one strap. She had a plan. She wanted to find out what happened to Winona.

While running through the cold winter air, tears formed in her eyes from the freezing wind pushing against her face. It wasn’t too much to cause any disruptions, but it was unpleasant. Her sneakers were slamming against the side walk pavement. She didn’t even have a coat on. By now, Mrs. Curtis would have realized she was gone, but Ashanti didn’t care. She slowed down a bit, knowing there was truly no reason to run. Walking through the empty street, her eyes were pacing back and forth from street to street. The houses looked so different, each telling a different story. It was calming, but eerie. The relaxation was soon killed when a large thud appeared out of nowhere. Ashanti’s head zipped over to the origin of the sound — the woods.

She was afraid, rightfully so. What forest would make that noise naturally? None. She stood in fear, not knowing what to do. The thud noise came again, this time softer. Ashanti knew what she was about to do was risky, but she didn’t let it stop her. She breathed in deep, stood up straight, and sprinted into the woods. Her feet splashed against the muddy puddles leading into the forest, staining her white jeans. Running deep into the woods, the trees were almost black. The green was barely there. The leaves brushed against her hair and shoulders, never touching her lower body. She was panting like a dog and her arms were starting to cramp from the constant back and forth movement. She stopped running and almost fell, but caught her balance on a tree. By now, it was supposed to be 3rd period, science class.

She looked around, squinting her eyes. Her heartbeat was rapid and she could hear it banging in her ears. Small drops of water left on the trees from the previous rain shower were dripping on her. The thud appeared again. This time, she didn’t really react, just a slight flinch, but where was it coming from? What is it?

Before she could even think, her eyes fixated on a warehouse. Yes, a warehouse. Why is there a warehouse in the middle of the woods? Not sure. She became excited, not even knowing why. Taking her hand off the tree, she wiped off her shirt from the small oak pebbles on it and ran towards the warehouse. The puddles were drying up. She felt lighter than usual.

She made it to the warehouse, barely breathing. Whilst trying to catch her breath, she noticed something…odd. There was a dark maroon stain on the door handle. The sight of it made her body itch. Not wanting to touch whatever it was, she pulled her backpack off of her back and threw it on the floor. She reached her hand into the small pouch on her backpack and took out a small makeup wipe she took from her mom’s purse. She wiped the handle, thinking it would disinfect whatever was on it. After doing so, she put her backpack back on and paused.

“Are you really gonna do this?” she thought to herself. Thinking for a moment, she nodded slightly and opened the door.

The noise was loud. It was a slow creaky noise accompanied with a small thud while the door hit the wall behind it. The warehouse was dark. The halls were clean, but there were papers scattered on the floor. Walking inside, she closely examined the papers on the wall. There were sketches of a beautiful girl on them. She looked just like Winona, but slightly different details. Admiring the pictures, she started to smell a strong odor. It wasn’t bad, but it was odd. She became curious and wandered deeper into the area.

The odor confusingly got softer, to the point where she almost couldn’t smell it. With this, she noticed something weirder. The pictures on the walls began to get more and more…distorted. They were still recognizable as a girl, just not necessarily Winona. This creeped her out, so much so that she almost lost track of what she was doing. She got herself together and turned to the left.

It was truly one of the worst mistakes she’s ever made.

In the room she had just walked in was possibly the most unsettling sight a child can see. There, covered in a mix of paint and what she assumed to be red paint, was Winona Worlds. She was completely drenched in dried and wet paint. She was sitting on a wooden stool, arching her back. Holding a paint brush in her hand, she was slowly adding details onto her painting of a pretty girl. Suddenly, she snapped. She stood up, picked up a paint bucket, and threw the full bucket onto the canvas, staining it with orange paint. The sight was almost…cinematic. Beautiful, to be honest.

Then, Ashanti realized the sad truth. The woman she was drawing was her.

Advertisements

She was throwing paint at her self portrait because she couldn’t bear to look at herself anymore.
Winona dug her fingers into her hair, pulling herself by her black locks and slapping herself. She turned around and kicked a bucket over, splashing pink paint all over Ashanti. Ashanti screamed in fear. Winona looked up, deranged. Her makeup was smudged and she had black eye shadow plastered on her face. The sight was horrifying. But, what was more horrifying was the second realization Ashanti made.

Looking closer at the seemingly red paint all over Winona, she noticed something off. The smell coming from her was not the scent of just paint.

It was blood.

There was blood all over Winona Worlds.

Ashanti didn’t waste any time. She shrieked and ran off. She didn’t know if Winona was chasing her, but she didn’t care. Her small feet were slapping against the hard pavement, the brightness of the light outside getting nearer.

She fell out of the door, quickly getting back on her feet, but the escape wasn’t very easy. She felt a firm, strong hand grasp onto her backpack, pulling her back. She screamed and yelled, begging Winona to let her go. Her legs were flailing back and forth, a desperate attempt to flee, but Winona wouldn’t budge. She dug her nails deep into Ashanti’s leg, so deep that blood came out almost instantly. Ashanti screamed in pain. Winona pressed her face against Ashanti’s cheek, whispering into her ear.

“You’re a nosy, stupid, bitch, and you deserve to die.” she hissed. Ashanti cried out in both fear and pain. Ashanti began rapidly slapping against Winona’s face, causing Winona to drop her. She started to limp away, dodging all of Winona’s attacks. She grabbed her shoe off of her foot and threw it at her, but Winona didn’t stop chasing her. Eventually, Winona grabbed Ashanti again and lifted her up against a tree by her neck, choking her. Winona’s pupils were dilated, her smile was devilish and she had sanpaku eyes. She had completely lost her mind. Winona slashed her manicured nails against Ashanti’s cheek, causing the little girl to scream out in pain. She threw Ashanti on the floor, knowing she wouldn’t be able to get up with her torn thigh. She towered over Ashanti, paint bucket in hand. She was prepared to smash the little girl’s head in with it.

“You should’ve stayed in school.” she muttered. Ashanti was hyperventilating at this point, so much that Winona started to become confused. Soon, Ashanti was grasping her chest. Winona dropped the bucket in shock. By the looks of it, she didn’t have to do any work. Ashanti slowly stopped breathing and fell limp, her tiny hands still grasped onto her unicorn shirt. From this, it seems she had a asthma attack and died. Standing dumbfounded, Winona slowly walked over to Ashanti’s supposed corpse.

“Are you…are you dead?” she asked. She had a slight grin on her face, thinking that she had succeeded.

Advertisements

In seemingly a second, Ashanti awoke. The quickness of it was too much for Winona to comprehend fast enough. Without thinking, Ashanti grabbed a stick near by and shoved it right into Winona’s temple. The entire incident was so fast. It was as if time stopped for a second and then fast forwarded. Ashanti let go of the stick quickly, crawling backwards. Blood began to drip from the side of Winona’s head, seeping down the stick. The sight was gruesome, but Ashanti couldn’t look away. She was seemingly fascinated.

Winona fell to her knees, rolling her eyes back before falling limp. Winona Worlds, the all American girl next door, was now dead.

Ashanti got up, holding her withered thigh, and began to limp away. There was nobody near to help, but she didn’t need anyone. She was strong. She killed someone all on her own.

Many questions are asked, some are left unanswered. But the biggest one people have is — why did Winona snap? What made her do such a thing? Why was she all alone in a warehouse, painting herself?

Turns out it’s because her boyfriend had been whoring around with her best friend. It’s devastating, but enough for murder? No!

Now by murder, I mean the one she committed.

The bodies of Raymond Willis and Aubrey Lanks were found completely decimated in Winona’s closet. The hiding spot was so terrible and the limbs were scattered everywhere. It seems she was in a big hurry to get them hidden because she knew what she had done. The walls were splashed with paint and blood, printed out pictures of Winona and Raymond scattered on the wall.
The smell was awful. Blood and paint mixed together.

The warehouse where Winona went buck wild in is now a touring spot. Students from her school went over there to gawk at the pictures she glued onto the wall. The canvas was the biggest touring spot. People would gather around and take pictures of the paint spattered canvas, but they couldn’t touch it. They didn’t mind the smell, the horrible, disgusting smell. Shrines of Raymond, Aubrey, and Ashanti are located in the gym. They’re there to honor them. Raymond and Aubrey in remembrance, and Ashanti for her bravery.

Winona Worlds is now a common name in history, the Regina George rip off who butchered her friends.

Credit : EileenZere

Please wait...

Copyright Statement: Unless explicitly stated, all stories published on Creepypasta.com are the property of (and under copyright to) their respective authors, and may not be narrated or performed under any circumstance.

Leave a Comment

Your email address will not be published.

Scroll to Top