Faceless Man

He's Coming..

Since the first child was gifted life and the many more that followed. Children had always slipped and snuck out of bed after being tucked in.

It was a memory that all guardians of children hold. Knowing that all Children had gotten out of bed either during their toddler years or older years.

Sometimes children would woken up for the bathroom, for a drink or just to push their luck. Many different reasons given as they are caught out of bed in the middle of the night.

And most time, it was difficult to get the children back to bed once they had left their beds.

For generations after generations, parents and guardians had prayed and pleaded for the children to return to bed. The fight a never ending one and sometimes strong feelings and wishes can create a miracle.

No one said it would be a good miracle granted though.

It's how he was given life, by the strong feelings and stayed living by the fear he created in every child who'd learn over him.

He was a faceless man.

All could see him but couldn't remember what they saw.

His clothing changing for each and every child as if they were the one's to create him instead of the evil grown from stressed and tired parents.

For the sake of this story, we'll tell him over one of his many forms.

A red and black checked button up and long sleeve shirt.

Mud stained and mouldy dark blue dungarees.

Worn and old looking black work boots, laced up tight.

He always held an axe, always, even if the style of axe changed with each child who feared him.

A child would awaken him the moment they stood from their bed after being tucked in.

Given the chance to rush to the bathroom or grab a drink before racing back to bed before he reaches them.

But the moment he's given life is the moment the child's feet touched the ground.

He's raise from the bottom of the garden, appearing out of the ground as if he was a ghost with no solid form.

Axe in hand and face unknown.

His steps were slow, timed, given the child a fair chance to return to bed if they woken for a natural reason.

But he still headed towards them. Walking through walls and doors to enter the building the child would live in.

A slow chase of cat and mouse that would end in bloodshed if he won.

Sometimes a child could be almost in bed time he reaches half way to the room that held their bed.

Sometimes a child was left throwing themselves onto their bed, barely laying down in time.

Sometimes a child never made it to their bed.

He'd grab them.

Taking hold of ankles as he catches you on the stairs.

Gripping at your arm as you run down the corridor.

Tightening around your neck as he steps through the wall and door where you stand behind.

Yanking you from you bed that you stood just inches from reaching such safety.

And he'd drag you back, drag you back to where he had risen from outside.

His axe held firm as your legal guardians stay peacefully sleeping, unaware over the danger you fell upon.

Blood would stain his axe as he held you above where he slumbered.

Dragging your lifeless body down into the ground, soul trapped to him forever.

And not a single adult would ever know the truth, you'd only vanish in their eyes.

No one would ever be able to come and save you from him.

So run.

Rush to the bathroom and don't waste a single second.

Carry your drink to bed and sip it slowly where he couldn't take you.

Don't be foolish and try to play dare with him.

AND NEVER stop believing him.

Because the moment you forget as a child, he'd be standing right behind you as you leisurely wobble back to bed.

And once he's got you, he'd never release you.

Two feet on the floor once out of bed.

He's rise.

And he's come.

Hurry back to bed.

Don't be late, don't be slow and don't let him catch you.

If you barely escape him, he'll hover, staring at you before returning to where he had risen.

Don't sneak out of bed until he's fully returned to the ground and the time resets.

Because if he's still heading back, he'll hold a higher chance at catching you next time.

Pray for sweet dreams.

Plead to yourself to go faster.

He's coming for you next.

The faceless man with his axe,

He's coming.