Silent Singer, more commonly known as Evelyn Abeley, is a Creepypasta character who appears in the tale of "Mutialism", a work-in-progress Creepypasta-oriented comic. Once a beloved friend, now a fiend of a ghost, follow Evelyn's sorrowful story to slowly learn that her narrating is much more threacherous than ti seems on first sight.
Origin[]
Teeth are horrible.
A lot of things are horrible, actually.
It only bothered and bothered Evelyn at how the world was built. She couldn’t seem to stand the millionaires out there who believed they'd starve without an extra penny, casting a false protecting shadow over those who know the true meaning of starvation. She used to believe that she was never going to be a part of what was written in books and fiction– as that’s what it was, merely fiction.
You read about people going through disasters every so often, whether it be in a magazine or a book. Some survive, some don’t, but in the end it’s a catastrophe nevertheless. Their situations are so different from the reader, and even if you find a few common spaces between you and the victim, you can never imagine yourself in such a situation. To you– these natural disasters are nothing more than written words, something that you believe would never affect you.
You listen to all these survivors talking about how horrifying the situation was, some more modest but some more full of themselves, expressing their fear and bravery within the situation. It doesn’t matter where you see it– they’re always flaunted on how brave they were and that their survival was a miracle. And yet, within a month, everyone forgets that the situation ever happened and treat the survivor as nothing more than scrap on the street.
But, no. Marie couldn’t just follow the same algorithm, could she? She survived, and oh, she milked every moment of her breathing and conscious existence to the maximum. Living life to its fullest after laughing death in the face, she said. Marie had always said a lot of dumb things, and this by all means was no exception. She’d talk about her injuries and talk about how traumatizing the experience was, and how she’d never forget it in her entire life. Sure, go right ahead, leave the best experience of your life scorching in your head like flames when in truth you relish every moment of it, and leave your dead sister to rot in the back of your head.
Nobody cared about poor Evelyn, nobody worried about her death in that horrible earthquake and the collapsation of the high school that Marie oh-so miraculously survived from. They didn’t bother to count, to check who’s alive and who’s not, because all that matters is that nearly everyone was evacuated to safety. There were too many kids to cater for to check if Evelyn was there, to check if she was where she always was, with her friends or even amongst the group. She was tossed aside like the rubble that the firefighters so carelessly got rid of, looking for anyone buried under all of that dust and concrete, but not looking hard enough.
It would have been better if she had died immediately. It would have been better if Evelyn got hit by the ceiling falling apart right in whatever part of the body that would kill you immediately. But she clung on to life like a bur to a wooly sweater, fighting to breathe as excessive sweeps of blood entered her lungs and she couldn’t scream, only coughing up blood. She couldn’t see, the amount of dust and smoke in the building blinded her and stung her eyesight like vinegar, but she could smell and taste it all.
The copper and metallic taste of blood in her lack-of-a-mouth, the smell of dust and fire, the burning ache in her legs that wouldn’t allow her to move. It wore down, soon enough, and Evelyn could see. She could see from the position she was in, that she was buried under rubble, alive, although in so much pain she was only chanting in her head and wishing for it to stop. So much torment shot through her body like thunderbolts every moment she’d struggle to intake oxygen into her system, she wanted to stop breathing just to let it all go.
She held onto dear life, hoping to be found before death whisked her away. She had wanted to die a dramatic death, but maybe she should change her plans for the near future. If she were ever going to live to see the light of day, that is. She could hear the firefighters– she could hear them walking around, she could see the shadow they would cast upon the only source of a visual entrance to the outside for Evelyn. And each time, they’d pass her by, not bothering to try and lift any rocks or anything, just going by, chatting nonchalantly.
All hope was drained from Evelyn like a plug being pulled in an overfilled bathtub. She couldn’t call out, couldn’t make a noise, and it’s not like they’d hear her anyway. The second time they came over to where she was, the girl attempted to make as much noise as she possibly could but to no avail. It was like the very universe itself was trying to defy her attempts to live– and the final breaking point was feeling extra weight being placed upon the rock which was just above her ribcage, feeling dark coldness sweeping in and taking over her entire vision.
Alas, while it attempted to get rid of her existence as fast as it could, the universe also seemed to take pleasure in taunting Evelyn with life-and-death without her say in the matter.
It wasn’t in her choice to become whatever the fuck she is now. She didn’t want to be incorporeal and apparently invisible to the human eye. She didn’t want to be hideous to anyone’s sight, lacking an entire lower jaw and apparently even her larynx. Her top teeth were soaked in blood as well as her throat and chest, bruised and scraped like a peach. Her legs were demolished from the thighs down, and yet due to her lack of weight and real body she was able to stand up in her entire height.
She was hideous. Yet, she still managed to look glamorous in her white dress. If that’s not a natural talent, Evelyn wasn’t sure what was.
She wandered after her sister for hours. Days, weeks. She was there for every interview, every pitiful hug and exclamation of surprise, for every flaunt and blush Marie's let out. She was so humble, so sweet, it was so sickening, because it was like putting an unhealthy amount of sugar and caramel on nothing but a clump of shit and expecting people to buy it. Well, apparently, they did.
It was too late before months and even a year had passed that Evelyn finally snapped out of her delusional denial. Forcing herself every single day, she’d shatter every mirror and avoid every eye contact, treading through life as if the earthquake never happened. As if her sister could still hear her talking, or even admit that she was there. At times, Evelyn would sing as loud as she could, blocking out the fact that she could physically not let out a singular squeak of a sound, soon resorting to humming, instead.
Humming seemed like the only thing that would catch Marie’s attention. It didn’t matter if she was on her phone, alone, in public, in the middle of the night or the bright day; as soon as Evelyn would start humming the melody of her very own song which she was so eager to show off at that ill-fated talent show, and Marie’s head would snap up and look around bewilderedly. With time, it became more of a tease than anything, with Evelyn running through the most absurd areas of Marie’s house– their parents house that she so ungratefully took all for herself– while humming, forcing Marie to panic more and more and dive deeper into the depths of the house that she never wanted to touch again in her life.
Maybe it was her fault in the end. Marie had started losing sleep, avoiding eating, going out more just to come back home drunk and obviously not well. Somehow, Evelyn couldn’t chalk up even a bit of sorry for her sister, and even if she could, what could have it done? This was her decision; she survived, and she got to live the human life that Evelyn couldn’t. This “struggling” that she was going through was absolutely nothing like Evelyn’s death– it was only the deserved karma.
Was it not?
Marie moved out. The fucking bastard left without Evelyn noticing, leaving the spirit all alone in the house, which now was quieter and deader than ever. Every family image was gone, any memorable relic, leaving the house nothing more than an archive and a flurry of thoughts.
It only fueled Evelyn’s hate for her sister.
But no matter what, she had to admit.
She was alone.
She was invisible to human sight. She couldn’t do anything, for her unreal existence would phase through any solid form. She could not feel sensations, wants, needs or let alone emotions. At least what she qualified as emotions when she was alive was gone.
Appearance[]
Evelyn is 5”7 feet tall, with skin as bright as ivory and eyes as shining as the very sky. She has a soft, petite face, long and dark, luxurious brown hair, which by her own hands was weaved into the most soft and swingy braids. Evelyn usually wears white clothing which outlines her spoon-like figure, taking pride in her body, usually sporting dresses which would spin like an umbrella in any wind. Her clothing was flamboyant and fancy on occasions where it didn’t call for such appearances, but the girl took pleasure in it anyway. Evelyn was considered a beauty in any circumstances until the earthquake accident.
Now, she still looks just as beautiful as she used to, but so deformed one might mistake her for a Resident Evil monster. Mostly out of falling rocks from the ceiling, Evelyn’s legs from the middle-thighs down are completely crushed and buried, physically unable to do as much as move if she were to be alive. Her entire figure overall is bloody and bruised like a peach, but the worst is her face; what was before a beautiful piece of art is now a discarded figure, lacking a lower jaw, never-drying blood seeping out onto her neck and chest, sticking to her barely-intact top teeth like glue. Most of the time, she’s seen incorporeal, as a ghost.
Personality[]
Evelyn is a fucking bully, I’ll tell you one thing.
She has a good reputation. She’s friendly to the appearance but too intimidating to talk to. But the moment you get on her good side, she warms up, and becomes what you believe to be a true version of herself that she can express freely. You can talk about whatever you’d like, you can get along well, but you can lose Evelyn’s trust just as fast as you can earn it, and you can’t get it back so fast. Your life is a living hell from that point on forward.
Overall, Evelyn can only be seen as a kind person if you keep your distance from her. She’s a vengeful and sarcastic fuck who couldn’t care less about anyone’s emotions or feelings even if it danced in front of her naked. She’s completely oblivious to such demanors, only caring if it affects her in any way. Evelyn rarely ever gets upset or excited, usually describing her nonchalant emotions as either envy, anger or pride.
Powers[]
Due to being undead, Evelyn isn't exactly capable of interacting with the outside world, however, she bears the average powers of a poltergeist. She's able to pinch, hit, trip and bite people, as well as leave foul and rotting smells after her presence. She's also able of replicating sounds, such as humming, knowing on doors, as well as levitating smaller objects like cultery and even furniture. Unless given more power by exterior force, Evelyn is unable to do more than that towards the living world.
Facts[]
- Silent Singer was created by user CecilityKay.
- Her first date of creation is, approximately, March 29th of 2021, and her old wikia page may be found here.
- Her date of creation has nothing to do with her current birthdate, just a funny coincidence.
- In the comic that she appears in, Evelyn is posed as an enemy, and despite being affiliated and working under the same Operator as one of the main characters, she still ganters to get in her way, as well as the antagonist's, proving her selfish nature.
- Evelyn oftentimes avoids assosciating herself with canon characters, explaining herself to be embarrassed by their monstrous nature.
- Evelyn has diagnosed symmetrical OCD, and even after death this disorder has not paused to plague the woman's head.