Pure of Mind and Sharp of Knife (Male Reader x Female Creepypasta)

Heart of Darkness

Winter snow brings the world to a freezing halt. Silence curses the air with an illusion of lifelessness: an illusion I thrive in. A thin layer of snow blankets the ground and adorns the trees. It's been two weeks since the start of my mastery training, and I'm on my own in Zalga's territory.

Five Dregs huddle below the tree I skulk on, peeling away at the corpse of an unfortunate hiker who I'd followed through the woods. In an even more unfortunate turn, no one will even come to recover his body. What's left of it, at least.

The four corrupted men growl at each other as they quarter the body for themselves. A fifth one, a rotting mess of moss and vines, stands watch, sniffing the air. Might sniff me out. No wind blowing, though. I'm fine for now. How do I deal with this efficiently?

The Rake perches next to me like a crow and, for a moment, I fear it'll disturb the snow, "Cold feet, Face Stealer?"

My stare remains locked on the Dregs below, "Fuck off."

It laughs at me and disappears into thin air. After what it's put me through these past two weeks, it would take Zalga herself to make me flinch. Being awoken during the night to a monster sitting on my chest, its face right next to mine, screaming at random times in the day or night, and acting like it will leap onto Rouge are among the various tactics it employed to get under my skin. I know it's not real, but it's real in the moment. If there's anything good that's come of being stuck with it, it's the fact that the Rake has completely changed my view of Tobi. It's made me respect her more for having to put up with this her entire life.

I hold two throwing knives in one hand and my main knife in the other. After planning out the moves in my head, I fall from the branch and flick two knives at the Dregs fighting over a leg. The mossy creature looks up as I stomp both heels into its face. The head collapses under my feet and golden tree sap explodes from it. The last two Dregs stand up, but I've already closed the distance. In a single spin, I slit both of their throats, and they crumple to the snowy ground clutching their necks.

All five down. How many seconds was that? Felt like it was under five. It was efficient enough, I suppose. The two Dregs with their cut throats twitch in silence as blood gushes from their wounds. One remains alive. A Dreg with a knife in its back crawls through the snow, dragging its bleeding body as it clings to life.

"You think Zalga will save you?" I question the Dreg.

It continues to crawl.

"Should've chosen Slenda," I murmur, pitying the mutated man. Did he even have a choice?

I push him down with my heel. The knife missed the nape of his neck and hit his upper back instead. Sloppy.

"Pure of mind and sharp of knife..." I pull the blade from his body as he groans, lifting his head up with my other hand.

"...shed their blood and reap their life," his throat opens and warmth spills onto my hand.

Dropping his face into the snow, I sigh, staring at the black blood drenching my glove. All this blood on my hands and not a drop of sweat. What have I become? I'm not (Y/N) anymore. At least, not when I carry this knife and wear this mask.

I glance up at the trees. Rouge is somewhere up there, watching my every move. Is she proud? When we went to bed last night, she said she'd leave me on my own for the last day and observe me from afar. I glare at my blood-soaked knife. When I woke up this morning, she was gone. Contrary to my fears at the start of this expedition, I haven't felt a shred of worry in her absence.

Time to continue the patrol. Rouge told me to show off as much as I'd learned for the final day. Today's a test, I assume. I wonder if Slenda's watching... or would her presence be too powerful and alert Zalga? Might be too dangerous. It already is for me alone.