Luring Lyra

## Luring Lyra by Srosen123

**BIO:**

Luring Lyra was once a normal girl named Lyra Rogers. She had a mother named Connie Rogers, a father named Frank Rogers, and a brother four years younger than her named Toby Rogers. When she was young, her father started drinking and abusing his family. Because of this, Lyra got bullied at school and lost most of her friends. Throughout middle and high school, she suffered from anxiety, O.D.D., and mild depression. She made sure to take care of her brother, who, out of him, Lyra, and Mrs. Rogers, was the most abused by Mr. Rogers.

When Lyra was twenty-one and in college, she was driving to the supermarket with Toby when they got in a terrible car accident with a man in his mid-twenties named Timothy Wright. Both Rogers siblings were rushed to the hospital, but Lyra died from her injuries.

When Lyra came back from the dead one month later as a ghost and realized that Toby was now a wanted serial killer and had killed all their neighbors and left their mother completely alone and without anything, she became hellbent on revenge. All her previous love for Toby disappeared, buried in hatred and anger. Nothing would stop her from avenging her mother.

### Appearance

Lyra is 5'11 and has long, bleach blonde hair, always tied back in a high, messy ponytail. She wears a gray tank-top, ripped jeans, white sneakers, and a tan leather jacket. Her eyes are very pale gray, almost white, with white irises, and her face has several scars, including one over her right eye and another on the side of her jaw. She uses a baseball bat as a weapon, which she can easily use to murder her opponents. She feeds on human souls to stay in some form of existence.

### **Personality**

Lyra is described as hot-headed, daring, and tough, rarely ever letting it show when she cries. She doesn't tolerate bullying, always getting into fist fights with the bullies, and will always consider whatever punishment afterward worth it. But despite her tough exterior, she can be very caring and protective towards her friends once you get to know her. She will always comfort any crying child she sees, and will always be there for those she considers close to her. Her sense of humor is rather sarcastic, and if you get on her bad side, you had better watch out.

### Fun Facts:

* She is asexual, meaning she is not sexually attracted to anyone.
* She sometimes teams up with Homicidal Liu so they can help each other find their missing brothers, though Lyra is conflicted on whether she should convince Liu to exact revenge or not. Because of their partnership, the two have become close friends.
* Her zodiac sign is Aries.
* She murders her victims by luring them in with her singing voice (thus, her name), then murdering them with her baseball bat and extracting their soul for her to consume.

## **Creepypasta**

I clutched my textbooks to my chest as I headed home from another day at the local community college, the light spring breeze whistling through my bleach blonde hair, tied in a ponytail, as always. As I turned the corner onto my street and headed down the sidewalk towards my house, I felt a shiver run up my spine. Despite the spring sun, it was a little chilly out.

As I climbed the steps to the front porch, I got the spare key I kept out of my pocket and unlocked the door. Swinging it open, I felt my breath hitch as I took in the sight before me: my father was passed out on the couch with a bottle of liquor at his feet, and he was beginning to wake up.

Fearing a beating for being home late, I quickly rushed up the stairs and ran to my room, slamming the door behind me and sinking to the ground. I heaved a sigh of relief: that was close.

My name is Lyra. Lyra Anna Rogers, to be exact. I'm twenty-one years old, and my family . . . well, I *guess* you could say my family isn't normal, but then again, a drunkard parent and abused children is pretty common in America nowadays. My dad always beats me for being asexual and not being the 'perfect daughter.' Not to mention my seventeen-year-old younger brother has several mental disorders and is home schooled, so he has to be locked up in the house with Dad all day while I'm at school and Mom's at work.

Wait -

*Oh no,* I thought, and I threw my backpack onto my bed, sneaked out of my bedroom, and tip-toed down the hall to my brother Toby's room. Taking a deep breath and beginning to worry, I knocked a few times. With Toby the main target of our father's abuse and him being in the house with him for seven hours straight, the chances that he could be hurt were high. Then again, he can't feel pain because of one of his disorders, but still.

"Wh-who is it!?" came a frightful stammer, muffled by the door.

"I'm home, Toby." I called gently.

A short silence.

"Y-you can c-come in."

Fearing finding my brother with a bruise or two, I slowly opened the wooden door to my brother's messy bedroom. Clothes were strewn out on the floor, the desk was a mess of stray papers and pencils, posters of basketball and baseball players were taped to the wall - and then there was Toby, curled up in a ball under his blanket, the sunlight from the window casting beams onto his bed sheets.

I sighed and stepped into the room, closing the door behind me. Walking over to Toby's bed, I sat down next to him and played with the few locks of his dusty brown hair poking out from under his blanket.

"What'd Dad do this time?" I asked expectantly.

Toby gave out a small whimper, like a puppy lost in the forest, and lifted the blanket off his face, revealing a black eye and tear-stained cheeks. His pale skin was lit up by the sunlight, and his chocolate brown eyes were bloodshot red. Not the *worst* Dad had ever done, but it was still in need of treatment. He looked so pitiful; now, he was no more than a little boy who'd gotten bullied. His age of seventeen didn't matter: he'd just been abused by our own father.

I clicked my tongue and shook my head a few times. "I'll get you some cream; I'll be back in a sec, don't worry." I told Toby, and I walked out of his bedroom, closing the door behind me.

After sneaking the ointment from the kitchen, making sure not to disturb my dad, I went back upstairs and told my brother to sit up on his bed.

"Hold still," I told him, and I opened the tube of ointment and began smearing some on the skin around his eye. Toby twitched a few times, but I was experienced with this, so I managed to cover the bruise pretty quickly.

"You alright?" I asked.

Toby nodded, and I opened my arms.

"Bring it in." I said, and the next moment, Toby and I were sharing a hug. I held my little brother tight, wanting to let him know that it was all over and I was here to protect him now that I was home from school.

That's when we heard a knock at the door. My heart quickly picking up pace, I placed myself in front of Toby, ready to shield him as I mustered my courage.

"Dad, if you're there, fuck off." I snapped, raising my voice.

"Don't worry, it's Mom." came a female voice from the other side of the door.

I heaved a mental sigh of relief as I heard Toby give out a sniffle behind me. Telling Mom she could come in, the door then opened and our mother stepped in. Her short, dark brown hair brought out her emerald green eyes quite well, and she was a little shorter than me, around Toby's height.

"Are you guys okay?" Mom asked worriedly as she shut the bedroom door behind her.

Toby ran out from behind me and hurried over to hug Mom. "It's okay, sweetie, I'm home now. . . ." Mom cooed to him as she rubbed his back.

After pulling away, Mom told Toby and I to get groceries for dinner for tonight, but I knew the real reason behind it: she just wanted to get out of the house, and I agreed. My homework could wait.

I hurried to my room, quickly grabbing my wallet and throwing on my tan leather jacket, then joining Toby downstairs. We said a quick goodbye to Mom, and then I unlocked my car, letting Toby into the back seat while I jumped into the driver's seat and jammed the key into the keyhole and turning it. Pulling out of the driveway, I waved my mother goodbye and began to drive down the road.

Five minutes later, Toby and I were on the highway on the way to the supermarket. I shifted gears so the car wouldn't overheat, and looked in the mirror so I could take a quick glance at my brother.

Toby had his head leaned up against the window, staring aimlessly into space. The ointment around his eye made his face look paler than usual, and his eyes were starting to turn from bloodshot red back to its usual chocolate brown.

"You okay?" I asked him.

Toby shrugged, and his neck gave a little crack - one of his tics. I sighed.

Suddenly, the screeching of tires made my eyes dart back to the road. A car had gone out of control, and it was barreling right towards me and Toby!

I was suddenly so scared I barely heard my own screaming as I tried to swerve out of the way, but the next thing I knew, metal was peeling and sparks were flying as our cars collided.

Broken glass from the windshield flew into the front seat, cutting my face open as a burning, red-hot pain shot through me like a flaming arrow. As a hot stickiness gushed down my cheeks and over my chin, I heard Toby screaming my name, but I barely heard it as the airbag blew up and practically swallowed my chest, making it impossible to breathe.

The last thing I remember before blacking out was seeing the shocked face of the young man behind the wheel of the car that'd hit us.

My eyes jolted open as air shot into my lungs, and I began to cough. I felt like it'd been forever since I'd had a breath of fresh air.

I struggled to sit up. Realizing I was sitting on a patch of grass, I began to get confused. The last I remembered, I was on a highway . . . my car had just crashed, and . . .

*TOBY!*

I jumped up from the ground and was about to take off running as fear filled my heart when something in front of me caught my eye.

A . . . a tombstone?

As I took a few deep breaths and took in the sight before me, my jaw dropped. Two gravestones sat side by side in front of me:

**LYRA ANNA ROGERS**

**FRANK SAWYER ROGERS**

This couldn't be happening . . . me , , , and my dad . . . how was *Dad* dead . . . ?

As my legs began to tremble, I looked down at my shaking hands. My breathing became ragged, coming in sharp intakes and outtakes, and I felt my knees give out. No, no, no . . .

I gripped the sides of my head as a loud wail protruded from my throat and fear and shock began to chew away at my sanity. I couldn't believe this . . . how . . . was I - a ghost!?

"Ma'am?"

I jumped and whirled around, backing up against the gravestone as I took in the sight of a young man before me. He was tall, around my brother's age, wearing a long black coat and a green-and-blue striped scarf pulled over the bottom half of his face. Dark brown bangs half-concealed mysterious emerald eyes.

"Ma'am, are you okay?" the young man asked in a low voice.

I felt myself beginning to fall apart. "N-no . . ." I stammered, and I broke down, sobbing into the palms of my hands.

The young man, after calming me down, led me out of the graveyard. He told me his name was Liu Woods, and yes, he could see ghosts, as he'd suffered from a near-death experience a year previously. When I asked him what I looked like, he said I had a lot of scars on my face, my eyes were now gray instead of blue, and my ponytail was messy.

As I led Liu through town to try to find my mom and brother, I couldn't help but feel my sanity begin to shrink away. I was dead . . . this all had to be a nightmare, right? Was I . . . going crazy? I couldn't be, I'm totally fine . . .

Suddenly, something taped to a lamppost caught my eye. It was a wanted poster.

Curiosity getting the better of me, I stepped up to the lamppost to get a better look at the poster. A picture of a young man was on the poster, carrying two hatchets. Orange-tinted goggles and a striped mouth mask covered his face, and a navy blue hood was pulled over his head. But what caught my eye was the profile.

**WANTED**

**Tobias Erin Rogers**

**Age: 17**

**Wanted for the murder of neighbors and father and for the arson of his neighborhood.**

Toby . . . why . . . ?

I felt myself drop to my knees once more as a strange sensation flooded through me. All relief that my brother was alive was suddenly replaced by an inescapable urge . . . an urge . . . an urge to kill. Boiling hatred flooded through my veins.

*Go after him.*

*He has betrayed you.*

*He is no longer your brother.*

*Kill him.*

*He's a monster.*

I felt as though a thin string inside my mind had been cut as thoughts of revenge bounced around inside my head. Toby was no brother of mine. How *could* he!?

I felt a hand on my shoulder. "I'm sorry, Lyra." I heard Liu say sympathetically.

My laughter bubbled over as my sanity snapped completely, my mind falling apart. "'Sorry?'" I echoed.

I staggered to my feet and looked at the wanted poster, at the picture of my brother. As pure hatred burned in my mind, I could only think of one thing to say:

*"You'll pay for this, Toby."*