PINKY

I used to not be fond of horror movies and scary stories. Quite frankly, I always found the premises dumb and unrealistic. As well, I find jumpscares and gore to be stupid ways to make a movie "scary." Little did I know back then how one day my life itself would become a horror movie. One that is more terrifying than Freddy Kreuger, one more haunting than Bloody Mary, and one more brutal than Jigsaw. It's true name is unknown, but I call it Pinky.

It all started on a dark autumn night. I was driving home from work in my big, red, Ford truck. I do the last shift at my local Walmart, so it was quite late. I think it was one or two in the morning. Anyways, I was driving down the highway when I realised I was low on gas. Because of how late I stay up, I usually sleep in, and I already planned to go to lunch with my girlfriend the next day, so I decided I would fill up on gas that night rather than the next day.

It took me a while, but I found a dilapidated gas station on the side of the highway. I pulled in and parked. As I was filling my tank, I heard a loud, metallic banging in the distance. I grabbed my pocket knife I carried on me and walked around the back of the gas station. At first I didn't see anything, but I could still hear the banging. I figured it was some sort of animal, perhaps a racoon or a crackhead.

I yelled "Hey!" in a loud, stern voice. The banging instantly stopped. If only I had turned around before then. Perhaps then I wouldn't be in the mess I am in right now. Unfortunately, I did not retreat. Instead, I aroused the anger of a being far beyond my comprehension.

After the banging stopped I saw it: a twelve inch, hot pink dildo rising from behind a dumpster. "What the fuck?" I muttered. Just as I finished my phrase, it flung itself at me, clobbering my head several times. I screamed and panicked, running away toward my truck. I pulled out the nozzle and hopped inside, starting the engine.

I floored it out of the gas station, driving hastily down the dark, tree-lined highway. Suddenly I heard glass shatter and wind roar. I looked back and screamed. The dildo was in the truck! I looked back ahead of me and slammed down the gas pedal, but it was futile. The dildo clobbered my head for several minutes.

Eventually, I came across where I needed to pull off the highway to get to my house. I yanked my steering wheel to the side in an attempt to hurl the dildo out. Fortunately, this tactic worked, and I made it home without any more clobbering.

I entered my trailer. I was tired and terrified. Thousands of questions raced through my mind. Whose dildo was this? And why did it attack me? How much Reddit karma can I get from this story?

That's when I heard it; glass shattering. It was here. I ducked into a closet and hid in silence, terrified of another clobbering. Then, I heard pounding. It grew in intensity and frequency until I heard a loud crash, followed by silence. At this point my heart was pounding. I was all alone in a dark house with an angry floating dildo. You would be terrified too if you were in this situation.

Then I heard a slam directly above me. Then another. Then another. The dildo was in the vents! I threw open the closet door with a shriek and raced into my truck. As I started the engine, I saw the dildo come flying out of a window directly towards me. It shattered my windshield and bashed into my head at 40 miles(64.4 kilometres) per hour. I was immediately knocked unconscious.

I was in a strange space, floating in a void surrounded by swirling colours I had never seen before. Straight ahead of me was a dark wooden door. I could hear a faint, somewhat high-pitch tune emitting from it. I drifted toward the door and opened it, revealing Ray William Johnson dressed as a mailman fucking my mother. As he committed this ungodly act, memories flooded my mind of the many times I had accidentally walked in on this horrific scene as a child. What was worse is I could hear him sing the song he always sang as he did it: Doin' Your Mom.

I screamed and the scene immediately collapsed into millions of butterflies. They collectively fluttered toward me, and as they passed I swore I could hear them whispering "piss baby" in my ears. After the swarm flew away, I saw a shining light above me.

"J-Jesus? Is that you? Please let me into heaven. I-I never even kissed premaritally!" I murmured.

Then, out of the golden light, floated down that thing. The dildo. I screamed in horror, and as I did so the strange space collapsed rapidly into nothingness. I woke up the next day shirtless in my truck with the words "naughty boy" branded on my chest.

I hoped that was the end of it. I called my girlfriend and told her I couldn't meet her for lunch. She asked why, and I nervously told her the reason. She laughed and told me to "lay off the ecstasy" before abruptly hanging up. If only this was just a bad trip.

I decided that I would drive home in my wreck of a truck to grab some new clothes and call the police. I'm not sure exactly what I expected them to do. I mean, what were they supposed to do to a malevolent flying dildo? Arrest it? Shoot it? Nah, it was pink after all.

I dialled "911" and waited. Eventually an old woman came over the line, asking what my emergency was. I explained my harrowing tale once again. All she did was howl with laughter.

"Darling, what drugs are you on right now?" She asked with her heavy southern accent. She cackled some more before hanging up on me, leaving me all alone in my trailer with only a dial tone and terror to keep me company.

It's been about five years since that night, and every night that thing returns to me. Every night I hear Ray William Johnson faintly singing "Doin' Your Mom" before the dildo comes flying out of nowhere to bash me on the head over and over and over again. I lost my job at the Walmart because I was terrified to leave my house, and my girlfriend left me because, in her words; "That Chad guy that works at the Bass Pro Shop is like, 10 times more attractive than you."

Now, I just toil away in my trailer. I don't have power or water because I ran out of money to pay the bills, and I eat almost exclusively racoons I find in dumpsters and whatever's dead on the side of the road. During the days, when I'm not scavenging, I use the computers at the library to browse Reddit and look at hentai. Those are the only things that provide me even the slightest hint of happiness anymore. At night I run and hide both inside and outside, but Pinky always finds me. Always. I live in a constant state of fear and misery and hope to God that pink bastard finally hits me hard enough to be fatal.

Tonight may be the night to end this. As soon as I upload this I'm going back to my trailer to confront Pinky. I mugged some old guy at the library today and bought a glock. One way or another, one of us shall perish on this cold October night.

THE END