I didn’t move from the centre of the alleyway, watching for someone, waiting for her. I’d seen her leave her school at around four with a friend, she had interested me. She had walked with her eyes towards the sky. They had been a vivid green. She had remained with her friend for three hours before she’d left the bright café alone, starting down the street. It was pure luck her route ran straight past this alley.
I waited again, crouching as if there was a chance she’d see me if I didn’t. She appeared again, she was looking at the dark shadows of tree’s against the sky, the corners of her mouth turned up slightly as she walked. A dreamer.
Her shoulders shuddered, and her head whipped to the side, her eyes searching the alleyway as If she knew I was there and I felt myself still. Her chest turned deep burgundy as fear roared through her chest. It was a curse and a blessing that I, even though I lacked eyes, saw more than most. I could see fear. And eyes, even if they were shut.
Her pace quickened and her hand dropped to the hem of her skirt, working the edges with her hands, pulling to relieve some of her fear maybe. Suddenly her hand froze and dropped from her skirt, her pace became purposefully slow and her fear disappeared. Her control I admired. But that wouldn’t stop me.
Then I felt something stir around me, a thick blanket of excitement settled over the area, so thick it was a tangible force, pushing me towards the girl. My mouth watered and suddenly someone was sprinting toward her, someone who was not me.
I reacted instantly, sprinting to intercept the man as he ran. His hood dropped down and chalky skin was revealed, a knife had split his face nearly into two in the gruesome parody of a smile, whenever he moved deep red blood would weep down his face, staining skin. His eyes were so dark they were nearly black.
That’s when he turned, pivoting on one foot to deal with the threat towards himself and suddenly a knife protruded from the cavity in my chest where my heart should be.
My eyeless gaze was drawn back to his mutilated face and we surveyed each other quietly, looking for weakness or common cause.
His grin grew and he tilted his head to the side. ‘Jeff.’ His smile was malevolent and his eyes were cold, uncompromising and cruel. His black hair was greasy and his skin was dry and flaky.
I liked him instantly.
‘Jack.’ I murmured softly, I hadn’t spoken in so long, my voice was hoarse, and it ripped and cracked against my own ears.
When we looked from each other the strange girl was gone.
† † †
Welcome to the sequel of Slenderman's Daughter... Welcome to Crimson. >:3
-Annie
YOU ARE READING
Crimson
Fanfic(Creepypasta) For all those kids who prefer to fangirl over the psychotic romances instead of the bad boy ones. This goes out to you >:3 Jack has never felt this way. About anyone. She is different. She is alive. Her hands are not stained bloody. Bu...
