Fabulous Creepypastas.

The Blue Man.

If you see the Blue Man walk

Mind to him you do not talk.

For if you see the Blue Man smile

Your sweet soul her will defile

- From "The Blue Man", traditional folk ballad.

Samuel Douglas drove home from town, taking the main highway instead of the usual back roads that her was particular to. He hadn't had much business in town, so his visit was short and sweet. Spending time talking to the other men who farmed the area, the last few holdouts who hadn't been bought out by any of the big conglomerates yet. It wouldn't be too long before Ned Harrison sold though. Crops weren't doing well. Sick child in bed. Sell the land and get a pretty check in the mail. Maybe they'd even let you stay and work on the land.

Sam shook his head. There wouldn't ever be a time that he'd work another man's land, not for any amount of money. His was his and had been in his family since folks started coming out here to the Midwest and he'd be damned if he was going to be the one that let it go.

Sam groped for the apple that was rolling around on the seat next to him. Part of Sarah's big project to get him to start eating right. Loaded him up with all kinds of fruit and vegetables before he went anywhere. So he'd get into the habit of it, she said. He finally grabbed a hold of the apple without taking his eyes off the road and took a bite. He'd never admit it, but she was right. Damn fruit was growing on him. He snorted out loud at his wordplay and thought about telling Sarah later.

His thoughts drifted away as he saw a figure walking along the roadside, picking its way through the ditch and the weeds and the water. Hel of a day to be walking, especially since it was so hot. It was getting past 5 and the sun had already started its downward climb, but the sun's heat lingered here and could wear a fellow down while he was working.

As Sam got closer, he saw that it was man and a big one at that. Walking tall, and with a big stride. He was dressed all in blue from head to toe. Sam slowed down. Maybe he could give the walker a life a ways, just to cut down on some of the distance. Or at least some water. Sam always had a couple bottles of water rolling around in here, another one of Sarah's contributions.

He stopped the car alongside the man and leaned over to roll down the passenger side window. The man had stopped walking and just stood there. His blue denim jacket looked heavy and couldn't be helping the heat any. The man's jeans looked worn and faded and Sam noticed there wasn't any mud on them, even though the man was standing inch deep in a puddle.

"Hey there! You need a lift someplace?" Sam called.

The blue man turned on his heels and black eyes took ahold on Sam's. The Blue Man smiled a radiant smile, showing most every one of his teeth. Sam leaned back into his seat and stepped on the gas hard. The car roared forward and clouded the Blue Man with dust. Had Sam looked in the rear-view mirror, he would have seen the man walking on as if nothing had happened, the smile fallen away like a lead weight. But Sam, startled, was far beyond caring and just kept on home; not speeding, but driving purposefully, all the way up to his house.

He parked out front, next to their lone tree, where he always parked and got out of the car, his apple laying forgotten on the floor, a single bite taken out of it. Sam walked stiffly up to the house, one foot in front of the other. He stopped on the front porch, his heavy tread shaking the wood planks. He bent down and began to rummage in the old toolbox that he always kept there and Sarah was always putting it back into the shed where it belonged.

He found the hammer he was looking for and opened the screen door and walked into the house, the hammer hanging loosely from his right hand. Sarah was in the kitchen, preparing something for dinner; Sam didn't know or care what it was, Sun caught her faded blonde hair as her head turned and she opened her mouth to greet Sam, a smile beginning at the corners of her mouth.

She stopped when she saw his eyes though. They weren't Sam's, not anymore. The eyes she saw in Sam's face were blank, impossibly black and dead. Sam's grip lightened on the hammer and he brought it up and around and down, the first blow followed by a scream. The second silenced it. A third, fourth, fifth. He didn't stop until the handle splintered and broke in his hand.

He walked into the dining room, and reached for the top of the cabinet. Pulling down the shotgun in one smooth motion, he loaded it methodically, mechanically. He held the barrel at his chin with his left hand. Reaching with his right, he struggled to reach the trigger, his fingers brushing it once, twice, three times before he was able to bridge the gap. And then his face was gone.

Neighbors couldn't explain it. The police didn't bother to try. They were so much in love people said. Did he cheat? Did she? They all asked why. That's just the way things are sometimes, was the only answer they could come up with.

On lonely roads and old highways

The Blue Man walks and jaunts and sways

A cold black heart and ivory smile

He'll walk you down that last long mile

- From "The Blue Man"

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I cut out a large part of this story because it didn't make any sense, one minute the guy was named Johnny the next he was Joe, but this seems creepy enough to me, I guess.