Frost_Bite

The Legend:

Ever had the feeling that you were being watched? The feeling that makes your hair prickle, gives you that eerie chill up your spine. Take my word: You are not alone.
They say it lives in its painting. All you would see is its big, round, pearly eyes that seem to stare at your soul. No pupils, whatsoever. Wanting, craving, to steal you away.
The Crepitus is said to creak, like old wood. The way you would hear cracking bones. Its fingers curl back and it's neck tilts in a way to be curious. Dangerously. The fact that it is curious, makes it more attracted to you. And the more vulnerable you are, more the likeness that you are not safe.
There is no way to prevent it. It appears. Goes. Does what it wants to do. When it takes an interest in you, from the dark corner of the room, its faint, dark figure would slowly emerge out of its painting... You would see what it really looks like, until it swallows you in its nightmare of torture.
The last you could hear is its creaking bones. Its soft breathing... The more you fear, the more it wants you. You could feel its bony fingers wrap around your arms, it descends with you into the darkness.
They say he breaks your bones, eating your soul and leaving your useless body to disintegrate, like dust.
"Never fear what is not here."

Its Origin:

No one knows his name... He was once tortured long ago to his older brother.
His brother slit the boy's wrists, leaving him to bleed every time he did so. He even cut his eyelashes off so the young brother couldn't shut them.

He had to see the torture.

The older sibling even broke a part of his bones every time he'd pay a little visit.
But, they weren't totally broken that he couldn't move them. He would be able to twist his body in distorted, freaky looking ways.

He had been in chains. Always left to bleed, always moaning in agonizing pain, always filled with anger.
His older brother would always be drunk off alcohol, beating him up. Kicking at his sides, screaming, and even weeping in certain moments.
One day, the young boy had looked up at his stumbling brother with furious fire sparking in his eyes. He couldn't take the pain.
His older brother threw the bottle of alcohol against the wall of the shed he placed the younger sibling in. He had grabbed the boy's bloody shirt collar, breathing on his face with rancid smell. "You should die."
The young sibling only groaned, clenching his fists to only feel the tight cuffed chains.

Days later, the drunk brother tried setting the shed on fire- with his brother inside.
The burning boy screeched in pain, coughing and his eyes burning. He couldn't see. But... The last thing he saw before his whole body have way, he stared at a painting of a shadowy man in the painting.
The man seemed to smile at him before his death, menacingly... And looking eerily at him...

With wide, white, pearly eyes...