Creepypasta Stories

Freddy Butcher

By: (I couldn't find the writer's name)

They never wanted him. They couldn't accept him and still they let him do as he liked. It was like a bad dream; a nightmare.

Fredward Neil Thompson was born on 17 September 1986 in Aberdeen, Great Britain. His parents Claire and Gary Thompson never wished for a child. They were too poor to afford one and already had to battle for their existence. Therefore little Fredward was left behind in the clinic all alone screaming for love and a caring family but he was not the only one. There were more than plenty other kids searching for their mothers. Now he was one of them.

It did not take long and the Parrish family, a parental couple and their 9-year-old daughter, adopted the boy to help the forsaken children in Aberdeen a little bit. They chose their new family member fast and took him home without changing his given name. He was still called Fredward.

The Parrish's were a deeply religious family and attended to the catholic believing. Mr. Parrish worked as a butcher near the house and besides their little daughter he was the only one who earned some money.

Sarah was a smart and very decent young lady but she had to work as well even though she was only eight years old. She knew her craft as a seamstress professionally and with the church's help she donated the sewn clothes to the poor orphans. The money she got was not for the textiles but her hard work.

The mother, however, was devils incarnate. She was addicted to pills and alcohol and had a split personality, which caused the family lots of trouble. She was incapable of loving and showing empathy and she was a shabby woman that didn't care about herself anymore. She often suffered under bad temper tantrums and it sometimes happened that she hit or aimed a knife at her husband and daughter if not torturing them with the threat to kill herself.

But since they had adopted Fredward it seemed as if she couldn't control her conditions and it got worse.

She ought to be put into a clinic ... it never happened.

She should get healed ... nobody cared.

She had to get stopped ... nobody did it.

When Freddy got older he had to experience her abuse too but no one protected the little Parrish; not his Father; not his sister. He got beaten up whenever he spilled the tea; whenever he got up late; whenever he cried; whenever he was to loud. Nobody protected him.

Why did no on save him? He wanted to know it. "Why?" Little Freddy asked his whole face battered and densely covered with bruises.

However, the hardest time was yet to come. Money got tighter and the hunger was immeasurable. At that moment Freddy was eight years of age - old enough to support the family.

Mr. Parrish took the boy to the butchery and it didn't take long for Freddy to realize that raw meat was repulsive to him. The meat's smell, the sight of blood and of the opened carcasses were planted in his mind and he couldn't stand it. He had to cut the meat, touch it, and gut the animals, but is nerves couldn't bear it.

"You've got to go on! Don't stop!" Freddy heard his father repeatedly saying; quietly and without looking at him because he suffered under paranoia that his wife might be watching him.

Everytime the boy ran out of the butchery with tears in his eyes, his mother hit and rebuked him for his weakness. As a matter of fact, Freddy was weak and he got weaker, timider. On and on he had to work at his father's so long as he lost his sanity. His glances frequently wandered to the window in order to avoid the sight of the death animals and some days he noticed that strangers visited their house. He didn't know why and often looked to his father. But because of his fear of being watched his father kept silent and left Freddy in the dark.