There was a certain peace about the forest at night. The tranquility lingered there beneath the moonlight, bathing the trees in a luminescent, dream-like trance. The pine straw which littered the forest floor rustled softly as I walked, silent and morose. With a navy canvas bag slung over one shoulder full of all necessary supplies for a midnight stroll, I continued on my way through the underbrush.
The cool air sent shivers dancing down my spine as I walked, tears pricking at the backs of my eyes. I heard the shallow stream before I laid eyes on it, the water playing over the rocks on the bed of the creek. Heavy thoughts laying on my mind, I made my way across the precarious little path made from rocks and debris.
When my foot touched the bank on the other side, I stepped onto the far shore and coughed into my clenched fist, sniffling slightly. As tears threatened to roll down my face, I ran blindly through the night, coughs wracking my frame. Feet thudding on the forest floor, I eventually stopped running from lack of air and looked around, panting quietly.
Before me was a decrepit bridge, wooden, missing planks and having no railing. It stretched about fifteen feet across the stream at its deepest, nearly eight feet above the water. Carefully, I walked out over it, the planks creaking and sinking dangerously beneath my weight. Ignoring the warning signs, I sat with my legs dangling off of the side and opened my bag, setting it on my knees.
I dug through it until I came up with a small, tin cigar case. I flipped it open and touched its contents lightly, the moonlight gleaming on the aluminum blade beneath my fingers. Lovingly extracting the blade from its case, I pulled my left sleeve up and set my bag next to me, the cigar case carelessly tossed into its depths.
Slowly, I pressed the blade to my skin and dragged it back towards me, watching the blood run, red. I did it again, further up my arm. And again. That hot, crimson rush was so relieving that I just couldn’t stop there. So I asked the blade to bite a little harder, chew a little deeper. And it did. When the crimson tears were flowing freely down my arm and my emotions were settled, I returned the blade to its tin casket and lay back, left arm lying away from my body as the blood dripped onto the planks beneath it.
I looked up through the trees, gazing at the partially full moon. My eyes fell half-lidded as a sort of dream-like state came upon my mind. I was blanketed in cool, pain-drenched relief, the moon’s light cast upon me as I lay still. Finally, I closed my eyes and slept.
-ooOoo-
YOU ARE READING
Fear
ParanormalWhen a teenage girl (typical right?) commits suicide in Slendy's forest, what else can our favorite demon of the night do but take her in and care for her? She wanders the halls of Slender's castle, meeting his associates and becoming entangled in h...