Horror Short Stories

You. Part2

*possible re-write eventually* 3rd pov(?)*

They proceeded to drag the blade down your arm, cutting your sleeve rather then your skin like you were anticipating.

The blade stopped just before cutting the edge of the fabric. You flinched as they flinched the blade backwards finishing the cut and nicking your wrist in the process.

You winches and pulled both arms closer towards you.

They laughed, showing off their teeth. Not sharp, but not squared either like most should be.

"Come on. This place doesn't feel right. Wrong environment." They smiled, reaching for and grabbing your arm.

They practically dragged you threw the window they came in through and pulled you across your lawn.

They kept a strong grip on your wrist as they walked you to their truck.

They slammed the passenger door open, pushing you into the floorboard, they closed the door back.

The door bounced on your ankles, it was heavy and the wind wasn't much help either.

You pulled your feet in towards you just as they got in the driver's side.

"Sorry about that," They smiled. A sinister grin, one of happiness at the sight of the quickly forming bruises on your ankles.

You sat up into the seat, not attempting to leave as you already knew it wouldn't work.

You slightly chewed on the inside of your bottom lip as you drove down the road, staring at your uncovered feet.

After what felt like forever, the truck stopped, before you could register anything, or lift your head, you were pulled from your spot and into the grass.

"Get up. And walk." They demanded, pointed towards the house you stopped in front of.

You recognized it immediately, "Hey- you'r-" They interrupted you, shoving their hand into your back, to make you walk.
                            ~
You knew who they were, yet you didn't. No one did really.

Everyone referred to them as 'It'
not even knowing what gender to try and call them.

Although, 'It' goes by many names, like; 'The Couch Maker' or 'The Devil Himself', no one knows who they really are, there isn't any proof they 'made couches' or that they did anything bad enough to be arrested even.

They just give off that bad vibe every one is scared of.

And you started to pity that for awhile.. until now.
                              ~

You hesitated up the stairs and slowly crept threw the door.

It caught you by surprise. The sight of how clean the living room was. It looked nice, even for how old the house was.

You stood in awe at how the furniture shone, taking your eyes of them wasn't something you should of done.

A sudden shock of pain hit the back of your head and you instintally went limp and fell into their arms.

Your sight blurred as your eyes closed on their awfully wide smile.

You woke in pain, like a split cuticle but much worse, and all over your arms.

You looked down and saw that most of the skin around your wrists were gone, and it looked as if it was spreading down your fingers like some type of virus.

It burned, like hell.
But you couldn't scream.

Your throat was scratchy, like when you sleep under a fan and wake up sick.

You tried to scream but all that left were pathetic whimpers like one a dog would make when begging for something.

You quickly noticed the chains around your ankles, covered in blood. The metal had scraped your bruises enough to make blood rise, so much it soaked into the carpet you were sitting on.

You looked around to find them, but they weren't there. You seemed to be alone in this room, but it didn't feel like you were the only one.

A sudden pain shot threw your back, a knife? No- a fork..?

They had drove a fork into your back, as it's what they had in hand when they noticed you awake.

You yelped in pain, from both the stab wound and the sore throat. You arched your back, falling to the floor.

You staired back up at that grin again, only this time it was covered in blood.

They snickered and knelt down to brush the hair from your face, weapon still in hand.

"I'm gonna enjoy this," They said, softly and slow. They rose their empty hand, caressed your face and quickly moved to hold your neck with the same wide grin as before.

They lifted the utensil and, again drove it into your skin, this time it landing on the bridge of your nose.

You jolted which only made the grip on your neck stronger.

They continued to stab your face, slowly, avoiding your eyes.

"You're eyes are so pretty, they shine like the ocean in the sunset.. I think I'll keep them. Such a beautiful starter to my collection." They spun the fork around to use the other end like a scoop and drilled it into your sockets.

Blood flew everywhere, on the floor, some to the ceiling, their face, and yours. 

The last thing you saw was them laughing hysterical, holding one eye in hand as your vision blurred for the last time.