"Cmon Max!" my friend Lucy yells, laughing as she runs through the playground. "You gotta keep up!"
I smile and laugh in response, my black hair flying behind me and my blue eyes shining in happiness. "I'm trying, Lucy!" I yell in return, managing to put in an extra burst of speed. Lucy was one of my only friends in school. I was 6 years old when she left.
We ran through the children playing in the playground, laughing and talking, almost running into things we forgot were even there. There was a forest near our school, as we were situated in a mainly forested part of Maine. We were allowed to sit on the rocks by the trees, but never to go inside the woods.
We ran for a while before Lucy came to a sudden stop, me skidding to a halt before I collided with her back. "What is it Lucy?" I ask, to which I get no reply. Upon looking at her face I notice her eyes are half open, as if she's about to fall asleep. She's staring into the forest, and as I look at where she's staring, I feel like my heart stops.
Standing there, among the trees, is an extremely tall figure dressed in a black suit. His long, skinny arms reach down to his knees, and his skin is white as snow. His face, or lack thereof, stares down at us as if he's an animal examining his prey. Shivers run up my spine and my heart fills with fear at the sight.
Come here, children... The creature's voice sounds in my head, demonic and menacing. I shake my head and take a step back, but my friend Lucy starts walking toward the creature.
"Lucy no!" I cry out, only to have the creature's attention snap to me. Long, black tentacles sprout from his back and static fills my vision. In my fear, I leave Lucy and run for the school, which in present time I come to regret. I pull on the teacher's sleeve, crying out of fear and managing to speak of what I saw. By the time we get there, however, Lucy and the creature are gone. All that's left are Lucy's shoe prints by the edge of the forest.
They never did find Lucy. The search was called off after two years, but the shock still shook the small town of Canaan. As I got older, I found it a bit easier to cope with Lucy's disappearance. Maybe the faceless creature was just a man in a mask, warped by the imagination of a child. I guess I'll never really know. I made some new friends in middle school - some even knew Lucy from childhood. Whenever her name was mentioned, it would go quiet in the group. No one liked talking about her. Even at the age of 14, I couldn't speak of my childhood pal.
However, ever since the incident, I've been having nightmares - I would wake up crying or sweating, shaking like I'd been left in the cold for hours. I know who they were about. That thing... whatever it was that took Lucy... I'd started seeing it often, like it was stalking me. The nightmares were always about him... always. One nightmare shook me to the core. Not so much the nightmare itself, but what happened afterwards... I remember my room was almost pitch black - not a light source in sight. Except the moon. It illuminated my room with an eerie glow, enough so I could see someone standing in the darkest corner of my room. My heart raced in panic at the sight of the unknown intruder. The person was wearing a suit, their arms so long their hands reach down to their knees, their skin bleach white. My eyes traveled up its torso to its face, and my panic only rose even more.
It didn't have one...
I tried to scream, I really did, but no noise would come out. It cocked its head to the side, as if it was examining me. Questioning. I couldn't think straight. Ringing sounded in my ears, and the longer I stared the sicker I felt, but I couldn't look away. My feelings of panic and absolute horror grew, and it stretched a hand out to me. I lie down, trying to avoid it, but it only followed. It settled over my eyes, and the last thing I remember seeing before I blacked out was static.
I woke up, panting. 'Must have been a dream...' I thought. But it felt so real... are dreams supposed to feel like that? I could still feel the creature's cold touch on my face, as if its hand was still there. Then I heard screaming from outside...
My instincts told me to stay out of it, to stay inside where it's safe, but curiosity got the best of me, and I climbed out my window into the chilly August night. I followed the source of the scream until I hit the woods. Instantly memories of my childhood near the woods came back. Memories of that creature, staring at me...
Again my curiosity got the best of me, and I walked into the forest, turning on my flashlight I had grabbed on the way out. So far, nothing. I got deeper into the woods, and saw something hanging in a tree. I shined my flashlight on it, and backed away, fear and horror forcing my voice to die.
Hanging from the tree was the body of a girl I went to school with, her entrails hanging to the forest floor, her face forever frozen in a look of pain and terror. I fell to my hands and knees and puked, the sight too much for me to stomach. I wiped my mouth and looked back up. Upon further inspection, I saw her organs had been stuffed in bags and placed back in their correct spots, some had fallen out and sat there on the ground. She was hanging from a tree branch stabbed through her forehead, blood and brain matter dripping down her horrific face. I got up and backed away, and then it started. The ringing. It pierced my ears and I almost dropped to the ground. I coughed into my hand, feeling something wet splatter my fingers. When I opened my eyes, my vision blurry, I saw blood staining my hands. 'Why am I coughing up blood?' I asked myself. 'I'm not sick.' I got up and tried to run away, my legs weak. I tripped on a tree root, and when I turned around, I came face-to-face with the creature stalking me. The skin where its mouth was tore open, sounding like velcro, and the most sadistic and demonic smile I'd ever seen grinned back at me, its black forked tongue snaked back and forth. I backed away and got up, running dizzily. "Can't Run..." a low, demonic voice growled in my head. "Can't Hide!!" The talking ended with maniacal laughter as I ran back into my bedroom, closed the window and locked it, then went back to bed. Even though my back had been turned to the window, I felt something... or someone... staring at me.
I somehow managed to finish high school, and I'm 23 now. I still see that damned creature everywhere. I've started seeing a therapist, thinking maybe this thing is a figure of my imagination - something created by my mind in response to what happened to Lucy. Post traumatic stress, maybe. I started feeling better after seeing the therapist. He listened to me without judgement, helped me figure out my problems, and helped me deal with them. However, lately, things have gotten worse...
"What's going on, Max?" my therapist, Anthony, asks, his voice unusually calm.
Thinking nothing of it, I tell him. "I've been hearing these voices... just whispering... I can't always hear them, but when I can, they speak of dark, horrible things... I-I don't know what to do, the medication you suggested me isn't working..."
He simply nods in response when a knock on the door can be heard. "Come in."
The door opens and two men in white clothing step in. "Anthony? She the one you told us about?"
Anthony nods. "Yes, this is Max."
One of the men walks over. "Max? Could you come with us please?"
I look at Anthony and he gives me a nod. I look at the man and nod in silence, standing and walking out the door with them.
Upon arriving at our destination, I realize where I'm being taken. The walls of the asylum show barred windows, and the white paint shines in the sun. Am I really crazy? Is all this just because I'm going insane?
'No, Max, you're not going crazy...' A familiar voice growls in my mind. 'It's these people... THEY'RE the crazy ones... and yet they lock you up...'
I simply ignore the voice as I'm escorted inside, given new clothes and brought to my room. The shock renders me mute as I sit on my bed and stare out the barred window at the outside world. And there... among the trees... is the faceless creature... staring at me...
I haven't eaten much, not being hungry. I simply spend all day in my room, in a corner, listening to the voices as they whisper seductively in my head thoughts of murder, escape, and salvation. I've come to find the voice in my mind is my only friend - the only one I can trust.
'Come on, little Max...' The voice whispers, softer than it used to be, welcoming. 'You know what you have to do...'
"Oh, you're back..?" I ask, sitting in my corner, drawing on the walls with the markers I'd requested.
The voice laughs. 'Oh dear Max - I never left.'
"What is it that you want?" I murmur, my hand working at the art I'm creating on the walls.
'You. I want to save you from this hellish place, and have you join my ranks. Join others like you in a grand troop to cleanse this earth of its filth - to bring about a new era. A new beginning. A new world.'
I must admit, the thought sounds appealing. No more idiotic "caretakers" treating me like a child. No more dealing with these morons. I shouldn't be locked up here... I'm not crazy..... I'M NOT CRAZY!!
The caretaker who brings my food knocks on the door. "Max? Time to eat." When he opens the door and steps in, I immediately shut the door and tackle him to the ground.
'Good Max... good! Now finish him off!'
I flip him over and shove my thumbs in his eyes, his screams of pain only making me smile. Without warning, however, I feel a sharp pain in my left eye as the caretaker sinks the plastic butter knife from the food tray into it. I yell and shake my head, pulling out the knife with my eye stuck to it. Growling, I stomp on his face and open the door, running out.
'A minor setback,' The voice speaks. 'But no matter. You must escape!'
Remembering the route to the exit, I stop by the "Patient Belongings" room first. I lock myself inside and go through the things. Inside I find my old faded black jeans, a white tank top, a black hooded sweatshirt, an eyepatch which I heard belonged to a veteran who recently checked in, among other things. I grab the jeans, tank top, hoodie and eye patch, as well as my shoes.
'Max, you need to get out now! The humans are going to find you!'
Quickly pulling on a pair of black sneakers and putting on the eye patch, I walk out and play it off like I'm a visitor. Caretakers smile and nod to me, and I return the favor. So far, so good. The exit is so close...
Suddenly, the alarm goes off, and one of the nurses speaks on the intercom: "Attention all staff. Attention all staff. Max Bergstrom from the psychotic ward has escaped. I repeat - Max Bergstrom from the psychotic ward has escaped. Staff members are warned to find her, but be cautious - she is dangerous."
'Damn it!' The voice growls. 'Get out of there NOW!'
I growl in frustration and sprint for the exit, yells of "There she is!" being heard behind me. The exit is so close! I can see the red letters shining like blood over the door to the outside world. Before I can get there, however, a cop stands in my way and tackles me to the floor.
'Get up, Max!! GET UP!!''
Quickly grabbing his gun, I shoot him in the leg before shoving him off, shooting him multiple times before dropping the gun and running out, straight for the forest. Voices become lost behind me as my ears ring, static filling the edges of my vision.
'Yes, Max, yes! Come closer, quickly! Time is running out!'
I keep running, barely able to see out of my right eye. I close my eyes and shake my head, running into what I believe to be a tree before falling on the ground. I look at the "tree" to see it is in fact the faceless creature. I shake my head from the static, the ringing in my ears becoming painful. Shaking my head, I notice the creature extend a hand to me.
'Get up, Max. Time is of the essence. Take my hand.'
This creature took Lucy... this... this thing killed that girl.... it killed however many others, who knows?? It got me locked up in an asylum... It got me to murder people...
Without hesitation, I take its hand.
(Hey guys, just an author's note. I reread my story and fucking hated it ._. I dunno what I was thinking. I remade Feral's character design to be a little more.... yeah, you get the idea. I'm not good at writing horror stories, as you can tell since my story is not scary what-so-fucking-ever. Even so, I hope you at least somewhat enjoy reading it. I might redo the story to exclude Slenderman so it will be accepted [HOPEFULLY] by the Creepypasta wiki. I've had stories taken down i don't know how many fucking times because of my shitty writing, I only pray they'll accept my Slender-Free adaptation of this one...
anyway, have a good day guys :) )