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

Stillness

The axe forgets, but the tree remembers.

When Slenda squashed Gray's only reason to live – our friends – I should've known there'd be no reasoning with him. His words from the Hallucinatorium might've been something he would've said, yes, but they were words of someone who's never seen their friends die. I should've taken his words with a grain of salt.

Moreover, I know he can't forgive Slenda while she still draws breath, so why did I? I follow Ally's movements as she teaches me to sew, enabling faster regeneration of my nerves while also learning a new skill. It's also given me time to be more... introspective.

Maybe I haven't forgiven Slenda. I just moved on, that's all. The only difference is that Gray hasn't. How come he's clinging to this after so much time? Has Zalga encouraged his rage for the sake of the war?

"Fuck!" I hiss, inspecting my finger after poking it with the sewing needle.

Ally looks up at me, "Thou yet bethinkst o' thy companion o' yore?"

"You're not as respectful of privacy as Slenda is," I comment, sucking the blood on my finger, "What other thoughts have you read?"

"A plethora," she admits.

I look around her room, which is ironically redolent of a dollhouse, and shrug, "Such as?"

Ally lowers her needle, her eyes locked on the floor, "Forgive me. I had o'erstepped thy boundaries. Dost thou harkest back to our vigilance atop the mansion?"

I remember the exact circumstance, "That's why you were crying?"

"Aye. Alas, I had not intended to pry so deeply," Ally swallows, "Forgive me."

Continuing to sew a black and white scarf, I say, "It's been a week and a half. I'm not mad about it. Just," I pause my handiwork, "try to keep the mind-reading to a minimum. Please?"

Ally nods quietly before lowering her head to finish her own sewing project.

After a bit of progress, I notice her frowning, and I say, "Nightmare said she spared me because of you. I don't think I had the chance to thank you for that, with all the uproar about what happened to Slenda."

"Nightmare hath saved thee, not I," Ally says, tilting her head at me implicatively.

Right. I forgot she could hear me.

"I won't forget what you did anytime soon, Nightmare," I say, staring into Ally's eyes, "Thank you."

Ally drops her sewing material and curses as she holds her face. When one of her eyes darkens into a void and half her mouth is ripped wider, I stand up.

"Stay thy blade, Skulker," Nightmare growls through the corner of Ally's mouth, "Can we not have a little chit chat?"

Covering Nightmare's side of her face, Ally whispers, "Nightmare, please!"

"It's alright," I tell the doll, sitting back down again when I notice the demon under control, "Talk won't kill us or anything."

"Thou hast lost thy fear o' my presence," Nightmare chuckles, "I saved thee once, and thou believest me a saint?"

"No, but I know you wouldn't hurt Ally," I remark, hinting at our exchange after my rescue.

"Huh?" Ally blinks while Nightmare holds her tongue.

I lean forward with a smirk, "You're not so demonic after all, Nightmare, going so far to keep Ally happy."

Nightmare scoffs, "Well, art thou not the cockalorum of the century? Ally, my lovely compeer, wilt thou speakest upon my subjugation a sennight and a half ago?"