Damien Pines: A Creepypasta Story

The Evils in the World

               I begin to glance back. No. I have to keep running. He's already too hot on my tail, and knowing his position won't do anything but slow me down. I realize something, sooner or later I will have to stand my ground, but I have never been the person to look forward to a fight. Hell, I couldn't even hold my own most situations.

        Especially with this monster.

     I begin to think that stopping and facing this freak is the morally correct choice in the situation. I feel my gut tighten as I recall the previous events. I can't change what happened, but I blame myself for it! God, guilt is the worse thing.

      Sarah...

       He just lunged out and went for her first. Before I could realize what was happening, he already had his knife forced into the soft skin of her stomach. I couldn't react, mesmerized in the heat of the ambush. Not that I could of done anything to begin with. Damn it! Why am I so weak.

        She fell to the ground, life slowly leaving her face. She was slowly dying, and all I could do is watch, wishing I could wake up from this nightmare. But I didn't wake up, I stayed in the line of fire of a horrible, impending demise.

       The attacker turns to me, ready to deliver a swift and fatal blow. I hadn't been paying much attention to him, but he had been all but unaware of me. I looked into his dark eyes, seeing only insanity and bloodlust. His face a pale, inhuman, white, except for the hint of red from blood, some spots dried and some spots fresh. But the most distinguishing feature was his mouth, which was carved up into the most sinister smile.

That smile...

       He leapt towards me with the intent of knocking me down. I manage to get out of his way, but somehow he still managed to catch my arm with the edge of his blade, creating a gash traveling down my arm. Now bleeding, I instinctively begin running. I know I can't save her, so I subconsciously make the decision to save my own skin. Bringing me full circle to the present, which can only be described as hell. A hell that no one should experience.

                A twig snaps about 10 meters behind me, scaring half to death. A bit ironic term for the situation, but it fits well. I start to regain a bit of stability in my mind, or at least enough to figure out how I should get out of this nightmare. I recall a pocket knife I keep on me half the time, so I start feeling around in my pocket for it. Yes!  It's there. It's just a 4 inch blade, but something is better than nothing. I start hyping myself up for my final face off, trying to at least have a bit of optimism that I might get out of this alive. Might.

        I brace myself and try to give a bit more chase. I round a large oak directly in my path, bring out the knife, and prepare to lunge. No one's there. My eyes dart, he has to around here somewhere. Silence is all that can be heard, and even the owls and crickets had stopped their daily routine. But he couldn't of just disappeared, right? That's impossible! Well, a lot of "impossible" things have happened in past 10 minutes.

           I loosen my grip on the pocket knife, and my stance becomes a bit more casual. I decide to start trekking through the forest silently to get back to the road. Adrenaline still courses through my veins, and my heart is beating at what feels to be a lethal limit. About 50 yards from the oak tree, leaves crackle so close that I believed for a second it was me. Something crashes into the back of my head, and I'm left in a daze on the ground bleeding profusely. My vision is a garbled mess, as I try to search for my assailant, but I'm only able to catch a glimpse of a hooded figure walking away. Chuckling.

              The cold ground is the last thing I feel as bleed out in the open, sanctuary of woods. The moonlight becomes darker, as my eyes close slowly. "This is it," I think to myself, "I'm done for." I lay still on the leaves and fallen sticks, and, presumably, die.