Creepypasta. Real or not real?

Chapter 1

I sat in my room, just throwing knives at the dart board on my wall. The board was falling apart and the wall surrounding was covered in slit-like scratches where I threw bad knives. Those are years old now, I don’t miss anymore, not even in the dark. I ran out of small knives to throw, but I was comfortable and I didn’t want to get up. I looked at my clock in the darkness, 1:34am. It didn’t really matter to me. I didn’t sleep anymore, I didn’t need it.

I took out my favourite knife, Slit, a slim, long knife. It has always been my favourite knife, ever since that night. I put the tip against my life index finger and twisted it on my fingertip until blood came out. I smiled and suck my finger, tasting the blood, it tastes nice. I took my finger out of my mouth when the bleeding stopped. I put the knife back on the tip and was about to twist when something caught my eye.

Movement outside my window, I didn’t see anything but I knew something was there. I smiled slightly, Which one will it be tonight? I was positive that last night it was Hoddie according to the online websites, and the night before was the Demon, BEN. Sending another one must mean that they were determined, or are their male egos and pride just hurt?

I smiled wider and went to the window and opened it. I sat back onto my bed and waited. I could stop smiling, this was fun. It was like a battle competition, I get to fight one every night until I got up to him.

After a while I turned my attention to Slit and picked off some dried blood. Finally my opponent climbed into my room. He was silent, not surprising, they were probably trained by that thing. I smiled at the figure. Even though it was dark, I could see it clearly, adaptation. He was wearing a hoodie and torn jeans. He carried a rock, a sharp one and his mask was white with a black smile and eyes.

“You must me Masky, correct?” I simply stated, smiling.

“You know why I’m here.” His voice was monotone.

I giggled in excitement and he lunged trying to bash my head with the rock. I was nimble though, I quickly avoided it and jumped on his back and landed where he was before. He collapsed on my bed and I cocked my head at him, I held Slit loosely in my hand. He came again, this time he tried to grab me and I sliced his arm and dodged behind him as he clutched his arm, dropping his stone. Is he not used to pain?

“Where is the one you call BEN? He fought better.”

He turned and swung his arm and I jumped back, but only to fall on my bed, he charged and aimed a punch, I quickly rolled to the side and kicked him in the side sending him to the other side of the room. He hit the wall and some of the knives fell down. Masky groaned and got up. He was more persistent than his friend. Masky charged again and he managed to grab my arm and he swung me into the same wall, I yelped as a knife fell into my side. I quickly pulled it out and threw it at him, I tried to get up but I was tripped and Masky kicked me in my injured side.

I screamed and he rolled me over pulling Slit from my hand and to my throat. He’s quick.

I waited for him to slit me, but he just held it there. “Go on,” I hissed, “I’m not afraid of Death.”

He cocked his head to the side and pulled Slit over his head. I closed my eyes and…

I heard a thunk as Slit buried herself into the carpet nest to my right ear. I looked at him in surprised. He just simply got up, collected his rock and hopped out of the window.

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I spent the next day healing myself. The small knife buried itself quite deep into my ribs and it hurt like hell to move. I would I fight another?

Simple, I couldn’t. I had to give myself up.

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That night I waited for my next attacker in my backyard. I sat on my old swing set and it silently swung back and forth. I held Slit in one hand. It must have been around midnight when my attacker came, it jumped over the picket fence from the woods.

White hoodie, blood covering everything, he had no eyelids, a carved smile, a big knife in hand. Jeff. Definitely Jeff. How the hell am I supposed to fight him like this?

I got up with a groan, crap it hurts. Jeff smiled, “Is the little miss injured?”

I chuckled and swung my arm back and forth, making sure I got use to the pain before the fight started. “Your friend was quick. I thought it might be better to fight outside.”

Jeff nodded. “A knife fight is at its best when there is space to move.”

I sighed, but I smiled. To be killed by Jeff’s blade, wouldn’t be so bad.

I looked at it and my smile turned to horror, it still had dried blood on it. I gaped at him and he just looked confused.

“How dare you treat your knife like that?!” I said, “So much disrespect.” Jeff just looked at his knife then me in confusion, then back to his knife then me again. I just continued ranting, “I wouldn’t treat Slit like that, she deserves to be in the best condition at all times! How could you bear to kill someone with a knife that looks like that? You know it could rust, right?”

Jeff just looked in astonishment.

I said, “I refuse to fight.” I folded my arms and huffed, “I will not fight the so-called ‘Jeff the Killer’ who doesn’t care for his only weapon.”

After a long silence Jeff laughed and headed for the fence. “Stick around, kid.” He said before jumping over.