Pixel Gun 3D Story Time

Forest

Storing his new prize from the zombie, the farmer jogged up the stairs to the roof, where the helicopter had crashed.

  "I'm late again," he spoke sadly, seeing the splotches of blood on the hazmat suit of the body. He figured the person must have stumbled out. Noticing a package by the dead person's hand, he picked it up. "Top secret? Might as well have left it in the chopper instead of leaving it out in the open," he snorted, opening it up and pulling out its contents.

"Huh, a map to Area 52. So it's real, I suppose." He quickly memorized the map. "They should be able to tell me what the hell is going on."

He shoved the map back into the envelope, checked where he was going, then backed up and ran off the roof. He dove cleanly into the water and began his swim to the park.

'I've always loved this place as a kid... Hope it's still safe,' he thought as he reached the rocky cliff, although he doubted it. Clambering onto a rock, he rested for a few minutes. Afterwards, he scaled the side up to the top.

Pushing the wooden gates open, he stepped inside and immediately regretted it when the doors swung shut.

The sunset had suddenly turned to a starry, moonless night, the only real light source being the headlights from a police car, cutting through the fog. The man looked back up and stared at the logo, which had been crossed out, with "SLENDER-MAN'S" replacing it. Chills went down his spine as he wondered if the crimson paint was actually blood. Based on what had already happened today, it wouldn't have been unlikely.

Shivering, he rubbed his arms and tiptoed into the camp site, drawing back when he spotted the slender arachnid rushing towards him. It was unnerving, to be sure, but it surprisingly went down in only two head shots.

  "Maybe this won't be as bad." He forced a half smile and ventured into the campsite, killing a few more monsters before deciding to explore. And having to kill more monsters. "Christ, these are everywhere." Looking up, he saw the full moon peeking out from behind the mountain.

Slowly getting a sense of his lack of sleep affecting him, he spotted a lit cabin built into the side of the mountain with some sort of tunnel. Curious, he cautiously stepped inside, firing at the monsters crawling within.

For no particular reason, his gut began to ache, seemingly warning him of something dangerous. But what could possibly be more dangerous than what he was already facing? He twisted and turned throughout the maze, somewhat afraid until he saw another cabin. Or was it the same?

When he entered the tiny wooden structure and looked outside, he could tell it was much different. As he fired at the monsters, he noticed there were multiple limbless trees.

  Killing the monsters with his army rifle, he ventured over to the attraction. He was drawn in by the faint red glow, and the garbles emitting from a strange, symbolic, scarlet brand on one of them.

He stared up at the brand, transfixed, which was bad considering the fact that there were still monsters, but he forgot all that. He forgot everything. Only the garbled whispers remained.

Suddenly, everything came back to him, painfully, and they showed him everything bad that could happen, all at once. He screamed in pain and clutched his head, unaware of anything else.

It was the bite on his shoulder that snapped him out of his trance, but only partially. He screamed again and stumbled backwards, awkwardly swinging the knife at the monster until it dropped. His ears ringing, heart and head pounding, and his shoulder burning, he staggered away from the trees until he could no longer hear the voices. His legs carried him in into a dead end before they gave way. He huddled in the corner, tears streaming down his cheeks as the screams and pictures still echoed in his head.

"No," he whimpered. "This... This isn't real..." He gripped his hair as if he was going to yank it all out. "It's... It's just that damn tree..." Breathing heavily, he forced himself to stand up and relax. "It's just trying to screw with my head."

  His mind cleared, he charged and fired at the monsters in his way. He ignored the demons and ran into a camp site, shooting up the monsters before moving on. He spared a glance at the bloodied sleeping bags in the corner as he ran.

He picked up a batch of ammo and shoved it into his revolver as he moved back to the police car, cocking his gun. "Now, where is that bastard?"

He waited a few moments, but nobody came. The silence and lack of a final monster made him tense, and he quickly gazed around him to try and see something, anything moving.

  And it appeared. White, faceless, with tentacles reaching out from its back.

  It only took a split second for Rick to realize that he should probably open fire, so he repeatedly fired at the beast's head as it walked over to him rather quickly. The voice in his head screamed at him to run as far as he could, so he turned tail and began to sprint as he felt sharp claws rake across his back.

  And then it was in front of him, long claws swiping at his chest, tearing into him as if it wanted to rip out his heart, knocking him to the ground. With his vision beginning to dance with red stars, he switched to his Uzi-Uzi and squeezed the trigger as hard as he could while aiming for its head. It shrieked in pain and flopped onto its back, twitching.

"I win," he taunted the corpse, forcing himself to stand and kick its bullet-riddled head as hard as he could. He searched its pockets until he found a double barreled shotgun. He picked it up and strolled back into the fog, desperate for an exit. Feeling lightheaded, he looked down as his chest and nearly hurled from all of the blood gushing from there. It felt as if it was being compressed. He staggered into the darkness, very aware of the fact that if he didn't find something soon, he was going to either bleed out or suffocate.

  He mistimed his step and fell onto his hands and knees, desperately gasping for breath as the pressure become stronger and stronger. He coughed up a ball of dark blood, tasting bile in his mouth. 'Am I going to die in here?' His heart burned at the sheer thought of death. He rejected it. He still had a goal.

  Suppressing the urge to just lay down and give up, he persisted and crawled over to the camp. He took the slowest breaths he could until he collapsed by the fire on top of a plus. He stared at the flames as he shoved the waning pain aside and sat up, warming himself.

It was then that he noticed the foul smell from the rotting corpses in the sleeping bags. Wrinkling his nose, he noticed an open, empty gray bag. Thinking it would be useful, he slung it over his back and continued through the darkness.

Eventually, he had to travel back to the whispering trees, which he pretended weren't there as he pushed through the pines. "Where is it?" he muttered, the missing path not improving his mood.

He couldn't see anything in the darkness, and he couldn't focus. Leaning on the rocky wall, he slumped down and closed his eyes. 'I'll just sleep until morning,' he decided. He fell into a deep slumber immediately after that thought.