Tales of Terror : A Haunting Anthology of Creepypasta

The Follower

The pines whispered secrets in the wind as I stumbled through the undergrowth. My head pounded, a dull ache throbbing with each frantic footstep. Where was I? How did I get here? Panic clawed at my throat, but a voice, low and raspy, cut through the rising hysteria.

"Lost, are we?"

I spun around, searching frantically for the source. There, silhouetted against the dying sunlight filtering through the dense trees, stood an old man. He leaned heavily on a gnarled wooden staff, his face cloaked in shadow.

"Who are you?" I stammered, my voice barely a whisper.

He chuckled, a dry, unsettling sound. "Someone who's been watching you for a very long time, child."

A shiver danced down my spine. "Watching me?"

He took a slow step forward, emerging from the shadows. His face was deeply lined, etched with a map of experiences I couldn't fathom. But it was his eyes that sent shivers down my spine. They were empty, two milky white orbs that held no warmth, no recognition.

"Don't worry, child," he rasped, his voice like dry leaves rustling. "You're not alone."

A strange sense of calm washed over me, despite the unsettling situation. But this feeling was fleeting. Doubt gnawed at the edges of my newfound peace.

"How could you be watching me?" I pressed, my voice stronger now. "I don't even know where I am."

The old man tilted his head, a flicker of something akin to amusement crossing his vacant eyes. "That, my dear, is the key, isn't it? You don't know where you are, or where you're going."

He shuffled closer, his staff tapping a slow rhythm against the forest floor. "But fear not," he continued, his voice a mere murmur. "I will be here. Always one step behind."

As quickly as he appeared, the old man faded back into the shadows. Panic surged through me again. I had to get out of here. I pushed through the undergrowth, limbs tearing at my clothes, the old man's words echoing in my head: "Always one step behind."

Did he mean it literally? Or was there something more sinister at play? Every rustle of leaves, every snap of a twig sent my heart into overdrive. I raced blindly, desperate to escape the clutches of the forest and the unsettling presence that followed.

Finally, bursting through the treeline, I stumbled out onto a dusty road. Relief washed over me, tears hot in my eyes. But as I caught my breath, a shadow fell across my path. I looked up, dread coiling in my gut.

The old man stood there, his vacant eyes locked on mine. A thin smile played on his lips, a smile that sent a fresh wave of terror through me.

"See, child?" he rasped. "Always one step behind."

He turned and walked away, slowly disappearing into the woods from which I had just escaped. The smile lingered on my memory, a chilling reminder that even in the safety of the open road, I wasn't truly alone. The follower, the man with the empty eyes, was out there, somewhere, always one step behind.

The mystery gnawed at me. Who was he? Why was he following me? And perhaps most importantly, where did this path lead, and would I ever truly be free of the man who wandered just out of sight?