This is using the Dr. Smiley creepypasta and the Dr. Smiley’s Funhouse (video)game as its inspiration. Characters belong to this creepypasta, apart from a few characters I created.
Dr.Smiley sighed with happiness. He loved making parents frowns turn upside down. Today he had the pleasure of having the parents of two children to see him. They both were evidently really upset about the behaviour of their kids, and hope was undertoned in their speech as they said their ‘goodbyes’. They were exhausted from all the tension and worry they had been facing when dealing with the subject of their children. It was as if the sole purpose of the children was to upset their parents. They refused to listen to anyone, got detentions almost everyday, and teachers were drained out of energy from the amount of times they had to reprimand Shelly and Tom Margaret. Report after report was emailed to their parents, revealing the mischief their children constantly got up to, the dreadful work they produced, and how they were a bad influence of other children around them. Their parents had lost all faith in their children that they would ever just behave, think, just care about them. For them. So, in vain, the 0.01% of hope that remained urged them to take their children to Dr. Smiley. They were still a bit apprehensive but had no choice. Thay had heard many reviews rating that this Dr. Smiley had cured their previously misbehaving children, a feat that even the most renowned therapists couldn’t achieve. However, two reasons had delayed them taking their children to see him, the first being that they didn’t believe that their children had fallen that deep down. They didn’t want to believe it. The second, and last reason, was that the Funhouse – apparently being the place where children finally learned the basics of being model children – was suspicious. The exterior seemed to display rainbows with white fluffy clouds at each end, both of them smiling with two circles of light pink dotted at each side. In addition, balloons of all shapes and colours and sizes were floating around the building: a heart shaped pink balloon, an Ice Cream shaped balloon decorated with fake sprinkles of pink, blue, and red with a touch of yellow and green, a Shimmer and Shine shaped balloon. It seemed to be more like a Funhouse than an actual one. Ever since they had seen the photo of the place, they wondered how a Doctor in a Funhouse could possibly help children that even proffesional therapists couldn’t. But the choices had run out; they couldn’t pick an option that they wished. They had seen how that had turned out. The last encounter they had had ended with the therapist running away from his office screaming and flailing his hands in the air. That was the last they heard of Dr. Floopy Loops.
With one last deep breath, they got in the car while Mrs Margaret started the car. The key turned in the lock while Mr Margaret was busy keeping the children quiet. As usual, they were causing chaos and, despite his efforts, he couldn’t keep them from creating havoc during the ride. They shrieked and complained about everything: the chocolate-chip cookies had run out, the car was too tiny for them to play their game, the air was too cold. Absolutely everything. Mrs Maragret sighed while taking a sharp right; why did their children have to be like this?
At last they arrived at their destination. The Funhouse seemed more blinding than the pictures. Smiley faces were beaming at them, grinning like they weren’t smiling at people who were fed up with their children’s behaviour. The sight in front of them made them grateful that, at least, Shelly and Tom didn’t scream so loudly that they could be heard by birds migrating to the south. Parents were pulling their children in the direction of the Funhouse but the children were creating a scene, crying and kicking like they had to complete 30 stacks of honework by the next day. On the upper edges of the bright building was the title. “DR. SMILEY’S FUNHOUSE!“,the sign read. It was written completely in capitals, and there was even an exclamation point punctuated at the end, as if they had something to be really excited about. Each letter was painted a different colour, and paired with the bright blue base of the building and the diversity of colours, it was quite blinding. Shelly and Tom hated the place at first sight. They really hated it. I mean to the point where they started to prise open the car in which they had arrived in without a key, and when it failed, they started to howl and scream, tears streaming down their faces like a waterfall as their voice broke and cracked. The parents were absolutely horrified at this behaviour and were just about to tug them in the direction of the blinding building when something stopped them. Two things actually. The first was that it would be useless to pull them in the other direction; the other parents had proved that. The second thing was that they themselves didn’t really like the place. It was extremely bright and blinding, colours popping up everywhere. They had nothing against extremely colourful places; in fact, those were the only type of places that their children mildly attempted to behave. It was only mild, but still, that was something. But something about the building seemed off. Insincere. Pretentious. However, their thought process was interrupted, for a person in a yellow mask appeared in front of them. He greeted them, and appeared to have a grisly, gravely sort of voice.
“Well hello there, Mrs and Mr Margeret! I am Dr.Smiley,” he introduced himself. Mr Margaret was the first one to to get over the shock, and tried to speak as politely as he could. “Well hello Dr. Smiley,” he thought he sensed some confusion about the two children, and quickly introduced them. “This is Shelly Margeret, and this is Tom Margeret”. After he finished talking, that was when he began to ponder over the fact of how Dr. Smiley knew their name. That only lasted a second or two, though. “Well, now that the introduction’s done, you better say your goodbyes!” “Well, that was rather quick,” Mrs. Margaret thought. But she desperately wanted him to help her children, and she was prepared to ignore her better judgement. She said ‘good bye’ to Shelly and Tom, who gaped at her in surprise. They could notice that their parents didn’t really like this “Funhouse” – as the title so truthfully stated – and thought it most likely that they would decline his obvious wanting for them to be sent to his “Funhouse”. Whenever that word popped up, they regarded it in disdain and disgust. It was clear that it was trying to hide something – most likely the fact that it was a horrible place – and they would have betted that they were going to leave a few minutes ago. Unbeknownst to them, Dr. Smiley flashed a crule smile at them (Well, not that they could tell, since he was wearing a mask) and led them towards the enormous building without another word. Once entered, the children saw that the interior was no better than the outside. Smileys beamed at them everywhere, tiny circles of blushes drawn on either side. The posters had some uplifting quotes and messages written on them in big, curly, colourful handwriting. BE HAPPY, HAVE A WONDERFUL DAY, NEVER GIVE UP, just to name a few of them. The doors surrounding them were neon and amped versions of the primary and secondary colours: neon pink, emerald green, blinding yellow. They reached the lobby, which was yet again full of abstract images consisting of only brighter versions of colours, images of balloons in every shape and size, quotes written in – you guessed it – capital, loopy, untidy writing. Not to mention that every single quote had to end with an exclamation mark. They were seriously beginning to be tired of all the excitement this place seemed to comprise of and hype up. They were not prepared fot ths shock they were about to get. But, before that, Dr. Smiley listed the rules to them.
“Curfew is at 9. It’s forbidden to go to the lobby within the exception of going to the bathroom and emergencies. If you do, there will be consequences”. He said ‘consequences’ with a stress on it, implying a threat and malicious intent. Shelly and Tom felt as though they were being warned for the absolute last time. If they dared disobey, they knew they would regret it. As much as Shelly and Tom were mischievous and misbehaving, and had a reputation for being stand-up-ish, they felt scared and did not dare to even think of flouting the rules. He inpired fear in them that they didn’t even know they possessed. Which was silly, they knew that; Dr. Smiley briefly spoke a few words. They could not help it. Dr.Smiley sensed that they were frightened by him, and said, “You have no idea how many silly children have tried to escape”. He sneered throughout the whole sentence, particularly on ‘silly’, as if it was foolish to the point of stupidity that they ever dared to think they’d have a chance to escape. Shelly and Tom recieved this warily, trying not to show that they were frightened and suspicious of Dr. Smiley. But he was notorious for this, and quickly snapped at them, “Chop chop! It’s almost curfew!” He ushered them into the direction of the room they were allocated to live in during their brief stay, remaining quiet the entire way. Only after they reached the doors did he say, “Just remember what I told you.” He was back to the soft but menacing tone he had aqquired during most of his speech.
They, by now, had gotten used to it, though they always had a feeling of wrongness whenever he adapted to that tone of voice. It felt like he was mocking them. Tom pushed open the door, and gasped in surprise. The room looked nothing like the lobby, or any other part of the building they’d so far seen. It was empty, tiring, and dreary. No colours. No over-the-top decorations. No uplifting and inspiring quotes. No nothing. The walls were grey, the floor was grey, the ceiling was grey. Even the table, on which resided a lonely glass vase in grey – of course – was grey! It resembled a hospital room whose sile purpose in life was to make people go insane. It would certainly do that well!There was only one poster on the wall, saying “SMILE” in small black letters on a white sheet of A4 paper. A smiley was drawn at the end, except that black tears were streaked on its face, like it had been corrupt. His attention was directed away fortunately – or rather, unfortunately – when Shelly exclaimed in surprise.
“Look, Tom! A VHS tape!” “Wait what?” Tom reacted to Shelly’s statement. She beckoned him over to the shelves. He looked to where she was pointing and saw a VHS tape there. It was put in the middle of a few books on either side of it. It was hard to spot since the spines of the books and the VHS tape were both grey, which made him suspect that it was meant to be hidden. Shelly grabbed it and walked over to the tiny television in the room, and slid the tape into a slot. She indicated for him to follow her to the bed to watch the tape. He was soon sitting next to her, feeling as puzzled as she was. First, there was only static visible on the screen. They waited for it to pass, and just when Tom thought the entire thing was corrupted and couldn’t be played, it began to glitch. They could just make out a few letters: P…A F..O DR SM…L…Y. Shelly pieced it together and said that it was a PSA from Dr. Smiley. Their moods darkened; neither of them was a fan of Dr. Smiley. It was, as was the most of the building, bright and colourful and blinding, each letter done in a different font and colour. But their thoughts were directed away from that aspect of the recording, for a booming, dark voice echoed though the room. It was a familiar voice. “HELLO THERE! YOU’RE PROBABLY WONDERING WHY EXACTLY YOU’RE HERE! WELL, LET ME CLUE YOU IN”, he boomed. Sheely clapped her hands over her ears, and Tom followed suit. All of a sudden, his vouce changed from the loud, obnoxious one to a softer, menacing, and morbid voice. “YOU ARE A BAD KID. YOU’RE A DESPICABLE, NO GOOD TROUBLE MAKER. YOU’LL BE ENTERING MY PROGRAM FOR THE WORST OF THE WORST! AND BY THE TIME YOU’RE DONE HERE, YOUR PARENTS FROWNS WILL BE TURNED UPSIDE DOWN! WELL, YOU’D BETTER GET A GOOD NIGHT’S REST! YOU HAVE A LONG DAY AHEAD OF YOU TOMMOROW!”. “What the absolute heck was that?!?” Tom exclaimed out loud, shocked, confused, puzzled and unnerved. Shelly looked like she’d seen a ghost. Her hands were shaking uncontrollably, her eyes were wide open, peeled as if they were in danger, and she was rooted to the spot. Tom rather felt like that himself. He sat down beside Shelly, wanting to console her but feeling in need of consoling himself. At last, in a shaky voice, aided by many cracks, he said, “It’s okay.” He didn’t know why he said that. He knew it wasn’t okay. But he just wanted to comfort Shelly. When Shelly didn’t respond, he scratched his neck and got up to gather himself and his thoughts. That was when he began to feel dizzy. He felt his head spin round and round, as if going in an endless loop, and he felt extremely sleepy. He just wanted to slump down on his bed and fall asleep. Suddenly, he toppled on the ground, determined to do just that. But before he passed out, he smelt something. He would’ve bet a million dollars it was something sweet.
He felt his mind start to work again. He started to be conscious again. He wanted to open his eyes but his urge to sleep was stronger. However, he couldn’t, no matter how much he tried. It was either the curiosity on what the actual heck was going on, or that something was very wrong. Very, very wrong. He finally managed to open his eyes, and immediately wished he didn’t. It was Dr.Smiley. More importantly, Dr. Smiley with a knife. He wanted to scream his lungs out. WHAT was happening? Where was Shelly?! Where was HE?! As all these questions zoomed in his head, alongside with the worries about his sister, an urge to get up evoked him to do so. He found that he couldn’t. Something was stopping him. He struggled and wriggled and squiggled against whatever was holding him back, and soon realised he was tied with ropes. He shot a quick glance at his surroundings, and managed to see a pillow. He tried to scream, but a cloth was bound round his mouth. Was he being kidnapped? His question was answered quickly, for Dr. Smiley noticed that he was awake. He piped his face closer to Tom, and said, “Oh good. You’re awake. I was just thinking to torture it out of your sister while we wait.” He informed Tom casually, as if he didn’t just say that he was on the brink of torturing someone. He tried to scream again, though he knew it was pointless. Dr. Smiley went on, “I wouldn’t do that if I were you. Do you want to feel my wrath?” Tom agressively shook his head, a horrified look entering his eyes, but it was too late. Dr. Smiley took the knife closer to his mask, and sliced it open. Blood was dripping down the cheery yellow “mask”. Where there had been a smile before was the carved outline of it. Skin peaked out of it, damaged beyond repair, while the blood dropped onto the ground. Drop. Drop. Drop. Each drop was audible, as clear as a gong. Dr. Smiley spoke again. “Do you want me to do the same to you?” He inched his bloody knife closer to Tom, and he shook his head as quickly as he could, horror in his eyes. He waited on as Dr. Smiley pushed the knife closer and closer to him until it was touching his mouth. “Good. I don’t want to see that behaviour again. Remember what I told you? There will be consequences.”
Komal's Poetry 