A BLOODY GOOD TIME // Creepypasta x Fem. Reader

Chapter 2 - I'm Just a Coward, Right?

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There's no end in sight. Just a long forest stretching out for miles in front her. She stumbles over a tree root. She's been running for hours. Downhill. Down into the depths of the forest, where the trees turn miles high and their roots are so deep that you can tumble into them and get lost in their system.

She falls into the root system of an old oak. Clawing desperately, she pulls herself up from the root system, and back into the upper forest floor. Her nails dig into the wood. She hears crying.

Sobs fall from the tree. It's raining now. Blood pours out from the wounds she's left on the tree. Only now does she pay attention to the texture. It's fleshy.

She pushes through the growth around her, her clothes soaking themselves. The tree shouts and sobs more. It reaches down to grab her. Its branches can't reach.

She grabs hold of a rock in the wall of the forest pit. She can't pull herself up.

Long black tendrils crawl up the sides of the forested pit, and wrap around her arms. She feels them pull her down. She falls. Her eyes are closed, and she falls and doesn't know where she'll land.

She feels the crunching of leaves under her. She peels open her eyes. It's dark. Not so dark she can't see. It's nighttime. The moon is a bright Cheshire Cat smile. Two dots next to it form the eyes. Stars.

She stands up and groans. She's in pain. Her side hurts. It's probab;y from when she fell.

She has to keep going. She can't let it catch her. Not now. Not after so long. Had it really been that long? It felt like centuries she's been running from it.

So she walks forward. Her foot stops short of a second step. She can hear something. Whispering. Words she can't quite make out.

"...k...p"

"What?"

"Wa... p"

"What are you saying?"

The moon widens its gaze, morphing into a gaping eye.

"WAKE UP."

She stares. The world around her begins to melt. Like a watercolor painting after pouring water over it. Ruined. The leaves turn into soft orange and brown puddles. The trees pour into the ground. It's slimy. Viscous.

She feels sick. She doubles over onto her knees, coughing.

The world goes black.

***

Gasping, you flung up from your spot in bed. You peeled open your eyes, rubbing the sleep out of them to see better. Sweat made your clothes stick to your skin. You felt gross. You pulled aside the covers and got out of bed. The red carpet under your feet felt gross from how sweaty you were. You wanted a shower again.

That eerie feeling ran over you again, making you feel sick to your stomach. You reached for the doorknob, but stopped short of opening it. A small sound from your wardrobe startled you, causing you to freeze in place.

Carefully padding across the carpet, you listened for the sound again. A small knocking. Likely not an intentional one. You reached under your bed, gripping the metal baseball bat your dad had given you a few years back. Apparently it was for self defense. It seemed more like it was for criminal activity, but whatever.

You pulled it out from under the bed quietly as you could, and reached for the wardrobe door. Unlatching the door, you sucked in a breath. You wrapped your hand around the wardrobe door knob and flung it open.

Nothing.

Your cat, Sugarplum, gave you a sassy meow as she jumped down from the top shelf of your wardrobe, and ran off under your desk. You let out the breath you'd been holding and groaned in frustration. Fucking cats summoning fear from the pits of your being. Damn it.

You shrugged off the heart attack your cat had given to you and took a moment to catch your breath. Damn, that had scared the shit out of you. You groaned and rubbed your eyes again.

You'd have to take another shower. Dammit. At least it was a weekend.

Once again, you reached for the door to your bedroom, only to feel the greatest sense of dread you'd ever felt flood over you like a tidal wave. Your hands shook. A tingle ran up and down your spine.

You sighed, knowing it was probably nothing. Gripping the doorknob in spite of yourself, you flung open your bedroom door.

The hallway before you was dark. Too dark to be comfortable. The bat in your hand felt like a sudden necessity. You scanned down the dark hallway, but to no avail. You saw nothing. Terrified, you took a step out into the hallway. The carpet shifted under your feet. Too loud.

Tiptoeing, you shuffled down the hall, praying to whatever god or goddess might have existed that you were just being paranoid. When you got to the top of the stairs, you stared down into the deepening pit of darkness. You could've sworn you saw a metallic glint of something for even a split second, but you couldn't be sure.

Deciding you were just being a coward, you grabbed some fresh clothes from your room and went to shower. Each step down the darkened hallway felt wrong. It was as if your body was screaming to turn back. Run away.

But you didn't listen. You continued down the hallway. The only sound was your footsteps across the carpeted floor. Your breathing had quickened, and your heart rate spiked.

Finally, your hand reached the door to your bathroom. Your hand shook against the doorknob. You twisted it. The door opened. Hesitating, you flicked on the light.

The yellow glow of candle shaped bulbs bathed the room in dim, comforting light. With a sigh, you stepped into the bathroom.

Once the door was shut and locked, you stripped away your old pajamas. You put your clean clothes on a shelf, then climbed into the shower for the second time that night.

***

It was rather convenient, the intruder thought, that the water had turned on at such an opportune moment. Now was the right time to strike. They prayed for no screams to distract whoever had been the source of the water.

Carefully, the intruder stepped across the floor, thanking the heavens for the fact that they'd left their shoes outside where they'd broken in. Those clunky boots always made their footsteps too loud. Socks were the most convenient for sneaking in their opinion. Unclothed feet stuck to the floor just a slight bit too much - especially if it was freshly cleaned-, and boots were far too loud and thumpy to sneak in.

The intruder took a step towards the cracked open bedroom door. It was conveniently hidden under the staircase, but they knew it was the master bedroom. Darkness poured from the room, along with silence. The only sounds were the quiet breaths of the two occupants fast asleep in bed.

Quietly padding across the blood-red carpet, the intruder studied the room. It had been hard to get a good idea of the inside of the house from the outside due to the long red lace curtains that blocked their view. The entire house reminded them of some sort of gothic mansion. It was rather out of place in the otherwise plain suburban neighborhood.

The intruder stood over the two sleeping occupants. They took a deep breath, before reaching out and slightly shaking the bed. The couple immediately awoke. They were both light sleepers. Good. That made things easier.

The intruder laughed as the couple stared in horror at their situation. Silence fell upon the room. It felt like hours before any sound was made. Finally, the woman croaked out a sobbing screech for her daughter.

Then it was silent.

[Words: 1305]