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

Copycat

I crawl out of the shadows at the foot of a Dreg, "Shit!"

He jumps back, frightened at the sight of me emerging from the ground, and I lunge forward to ram my knife up his throat. The Dreg clutches my arm – his eyes, mouth, and nose flooding with blood – which he coughs onto my mask. The pack of Dregs surrounding me breaks apart, some falling over as I toss the corpse aside.

In the pale light of the autumnal moon, I grab a throwing knife from within my garb and wield it alongside Dread. The Dregs wait for me to make a move, but I can only scold myself for moving too far within the shadows. I can't leave any witnesses this time.

Before any of them can remember their numerical advantage, I surge forward and tackle one of them into the ground. We disappear into the darkness, leaving the other Dregs horrified as they look around for where we've gone. I watch them in the distance as I wrench my knife out of my target's throat.

A few of them break rank and run away into the forest, making me dive into the darkness. None of them make it back to Zalga thanks to the speed at which I can travel while I'm Cowled. The four remaining Dregs huddle around their bonfire, and one of them adds more sticks to the fire to brighten it.

I emerge from up on a tree, looking down at them as they search the ground. I'd laugh or make a snarky remark, but they're too dumb and afraid to understand, anyway. Besides, the worst thing a monster can do is have any resemblance of humanity, which the Dregs hate and prey on.

Taking out my bow, I spike one through the skull, and he falls back into the fire, scattering embers everywhere. Its comrades jump back from the flames, one of them staggering beneath me, and I use the opportunity to crush him into the ground. The other two see me before my throwing knives sink through their eyes.

Under my banner, the army of silence annexes another acre of the forest, returning this corrupted soil to its former tranquil glory. Slowly but surely, I exterminate Zalga's Dregs like the infestation they are. Like a devout master woodcarver, I whittle away at her territory borders, shaping it exactly to my liking. At this rate, I'll conquer Zalga all on my own.

Snapping sticks and rustling shrubbery make me look up from my killing field. I back out of view of the dying bonfire's illumination and enter the darkness once again, becoming just another tree in the background of midnight. I climb up a trunk for a better vantage point, and a Terror walks into the fading fire's light.

Stripes's goggles reflect the burning embers, her hands clawed like the hands of Zalga. Her horns make her appear as a demon beside the flames which choke into embers until, finally, they're nothing but ash and cinder. I don't hear her move.

I've been with the Proxies long enough to know this is a trap. An isolated Terror roaming around the forest in the middle of the night? Can Zalga be any more obvious? She knows someone's going around killing her Dregs, so if she's taking action, it means I'm hurting her.

I won't stop, but I also can't take on a Terror in a one-on-one showdown. Not even at night where I'll be at the highest advantage. My blunder earlier shows I'm not prepared to use this power against a Terror, let alone Stripes. If I can stab Zero through the neck and still get thrown around despite her blood loss, Stripes can rip my head off even if I score a lethal blow.

For now, I maintain distance and run back towards the mansion, only stopping to use the death whistle to scream a harrowing howl across the night air.

* * *

In the hospital wing, Ann places a test tube full of Slenda's blood in a tray, and she looks over at me, "Have you been having nightmares lately?"

I look up from whittling a wider frown into my mask, "Sort of... You're scary, being able to tell that at a glance."