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Description

Height: 6.3 - 8.2 ft (fluctuates depending on viewer)
Alignment: Neutral Evil
Bio: Whispers. Quick and swift whispers emanate from the corners. I can’t make out real words or even what language. I know, however, that what these whispers speak of are foul and hateful things. The speaker is vile and blackened in his heart. I fear these whispers may be the last things I hear; I know that these whispers are the last things I’ll hear, for soon I shall take my own life.
He took my sweet Valerie and my darling Mary. Their helpless flesh victim to his wicked claws. Their innocent lives stolen by the malice that is he. I am alone here now, barricaded from the outside world by the snowfall, only fire light joins me in this solitude; the fire light, and him, The Rake.
Somewhere in this icey house he waits, whispering to me words off his wicked vile tongue. He tempts me to take my life now, to abandon my pen and page. Perhaps he fears my words, perhaps he is simply starved for bloodshed and wishes to feel the pangs no more. I fear he may soon show his fearsome mussel.
Now as I write, I hear his claws tapping somewhere in my home. A maddening rhythm tip-tap-tapping on the wooden boards around me. I hope to wait till the sun rises before placing the iron in my mouth but fear I may not be able to suffer it any longer.
For now I leave only a warning. Anyone who comes across this cursed estate, rid yourself of it, forget it and never return. He whispers between the floorboards and behind the walls. He thirsts for only blood as he crawls now from the furnace and the flames within it. He sees only hate from his dog-like eyes. I take the rifle into my hands and feel clank against my teeth. He is The Rake.

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The Rake is probably my favorite Creepypasta monster out there. I find that his story is really one of the only classic pastas that still hold up and actually even manages to be a little scary at times. This entry into Creature Feature is basically the suicide note part of the original story, but extended. I was attempting a semi-Lovecraft type vibe for this one that I'm not sure I quite nailed but that's fine. I didn't really do anything to add to the character this time because I didn't really think it needed anything added. I kind of just wanted The Rake to be part of this universe. Might do some Creepypasta characters at some point in the future, I dunno.

As for the illustration, I went more with the dog-like part of the original description because I think that's bit more interesting than just a pale guy with claws. I kinda fucked up the feet on the drawing but that's fine I guess.

Description

Height: 6.3 - 8.2 ft (fluctuates depending on viewer)
Alignment: Neutral Evil
Bio: Whispers. Quick and swift whispers emanate from the corners. I can’t make out real words or even what language. I know, however, that what these whispers speak of are foul and hateful things. The speaker is vile and blackened in his heart. I fear these whispers may be the last things I hear; I know that these whispers are the last things I’ll hear, for soon I shall take my own life.
He took my sweet Valerie and my darling Mary. Their helpless flesh victim to his wicked claws. Their innocent lives stolen by the malice that is he. I am alone here now, barricaded from the outside world by the snowfall, only fire light joins me in this solitude; the fire light, and him, The Rake.
Somewhere in this icey house he waits, whispering to me words off his wicked vile tongue. He tempts me to take my life now, to abandon my pen and page. Perhaps he fears my words, perhaps he is simply starved for bloodshed and wishes to feel the pangs no more. I fear he may soon show his fearsome mussel.
Now as I write, I hear his claws tapping somewhere in my home. A maddening rhythm tip-tap-tapping on the wooden boards around me. I hope to wait till the sun rises before placing the iron in my mouth but fear I may not be able to suffer it any longer.
For now I leave only a warning. Anyone who comes across this cursed estate, rid yourself of it, forget it and never return. He whispers between the floorboards and behind the walls. He thirsts for only blood as he crawls now from the furnace and the flames within it. He sees only hate from his dog-like eyes. I take the rifle into my hands and feel clank against my teeth. He is The Rake.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The Rake is probably my favorite Creepypasta monster out there. I find that his story is really one of the only classic pastas that still hold up and actually even manages to be a little scary at times. This entry into Creature Feature is basically the suicide note part of the original story, but extended. I was attempting a semi-Lovecraft type vibe for this one that I'm not sure I quite nailed but that's fine. I didn't really do anything to add to the character this time because I didn't really think it needed anything added. I kind of just wanted The Rake to be part of this universe. Might do some Creepypasta characters at some point in the future, I dunno.

As for the illustration, I went more with the dog-like part of the original description because I think that's bit more interesting than just a pale guy with claws. I kinda fucked up the feet on the drawing but that's fine I guess.