Post by Logo (The Horrorshow Freak) on Mar 5, 2014 1:03:24 GMT
Before I post this I would like to say the character portrayed in this story is not of my own, he is Eyeless Jack from Creepypasta. The only thing that is mine is the story and the other characters themselves. I did not create Eyeless Jack.
This has also been a fun write, through thick and thin over the past few days and It was hard to find the motivation, but after I did, it was fun. Also, this is directed towards someone named sweetdreams, who is on this forum, and she has inspired me to be the horror writer I am today
Without further ado..
I breath heavily, noticing that the gash on my cheek isn't fake. I touch the mirror, like I'm touching my own skin, and see how terrible it really is. Red and puffy with infection, I'm sure. I get out the alcohol and start dabbing it on my face, feeling the hot, then icy cool of the medicine, burning the germs.
I put the top back on and leave the bathroom, feeling dizzy. There is a lot of blood on the floor of my bedroom, too much actually. The scarlet liquid soaks through my socks, making them cold again. I slowly climb back into bed and lay, staring straight up.
I tremble, trying to keep my mind off the horrible events of last night.
My brother, Dave, just got an apartment outside the city. An elegant apartment really, for a cool $600 it's easily likable. With 2 bedrooms, 1 bath and a big living area, it has more than enough room for 2 to live in.
Well me being 17 and wanting to leave my mother, I moved in with him. The first few weeks were great, not a hair out of place.
Then things went bad.
One particular windy morning in the middle of May, we were going to the store. When we came back we saw one of the bedroom windows open. We run inside to see nothing out of order, thinking it was a burglary. Then we look for anything that could harm us. Drugs, bombs, you know, the usual. We couldn't find anything, except a black substance.. It was thick, with a consistency typical to goo. I put a finger in it, the coolness spreading over my finger as I slowly pull out, the black liquid going back to the form it was before.
We don't know what to think. We search again, just incase we missed something, but our search turned up empty handed. I decided that it must've been some animal that left through the same window. But the substance still puzzled me.
After cleaning it off the hardwood floor, we decide to turn in for the night. During the night, I hear the window open. Me thinking it's a dream, I decide turn over and ignore it, but the rest of the night I feel someone just... Looking at me, like I'm some sort of meal.
Then, for about 30 minutes, I fall into a deep sleep. Then I wake up, sweating and panting. I slowly get up, but feel slow and groggy. I put my feet on the cool hardwood and feel a warm liquid run between my toes. I look down and see... Dark crimson blood. Blood that must have been mine, since I'm the only one in the room. I look down and see that my once white sleep shirt is now stained with my own bloody fluid.
Then, to add on to all of this, I look to see a bone chilling discovery: The black substance is now back and the puddle is bigger then the night before.
I let loose a piercing scream as I slowly feel my body shut down. I feel my nose break against the wall as I fall forward, then into an unconscious state.
I wake up in the hospital, with a plastic mask over my face. I look around the white room, scared, when my doctor comes into the room with wide rim glasses and grey hair. He speaks slow with a deep but caring voice.
Doctor: We have some news, you under went a home surgery. Your spleen was, uh.. Taken out, rather violently, but no real damage was made. You broke your nose, not too bad. You'll need to wear this mask at all times for the next week then only when you sleep the week after. You are in fine condition, we stitched you up and now you can be on your way in as little as a couple of hours.
I sigh a breath of relief as I'm told that the blood loss wasn't as terrible as I had once imagined, but am still puzzled. How in the hell did my spleen, my fucking SPLEEN, get taken out while I was asleep? I don't quite understand the logic of last night at all, and decide it's best not to think about it for now, but later will be better idea.
After we get home from the hospital, I spend the night in my still nasty room, and sleep beside my brother. He said he would feel better if he slept beside me just incase something was to happen. Whatever, did he not think I couldn't take care of myself?...
...I couldn't.
As I slumbered once again, I hear the creak of the window being slid open, and a thud. I dare not open my eyes as I hear a thick plop of liquid hit the wooden floor every 26 seconds (I couldn't do anything else besides fake being asleep and listen, so I decided to do something productive).
I listen in horror as my brother stirs, slowly kicking the covers off. I hold my hand to my mouth to keep from weeping aloud as he stands up and sees... Whatever it was that entered the room. I hear as his scream is cut short as the sound of a knife pierces the air, and the sound of blood pouring onto the floor. The thing keeps gutting my brother, and I decide to blink my eye open for a minute and the picture before me is horrific. I close my eyes again and try to hold back tears.
My brother was being cleaned out. His intensities and other organs are thrown to the ground with sickening, wet thuds. I try to block it out but every time I do it grows louder and louder and then, it stops. My brothers now lifeless body hits the wood. I choke back one more cry as I open my eyes for the last time that night. The thing was more like a man, in medium height probably 5'8 or 9 with a black hoody over it's head. In the face area, there was no face. No nose, no lips. The only thing that resembled a face was the eye sockets, which had no eyes inside, but instead something even creepier then it not having eyes..
A thick, black substance.
I stare, horrified at this.. This thing. It stared back, knife in hand. I watch as it reaches into a pocket and pulls out a reddish pink mass, just bigger then the size of a fist. It never takes it's.. Sockets off of me as it rips it in half, and slinging blood on the wall. The once white walls are now splattered in blood, almost like a modern art piece. Slowly I realize it's a message. A deep, dark message.
"I know you are awake. I will return."
And with that it threw half of the mass on the ground and the other half stayed in it's hand. It walked over to me and ever so slightly took the knife to my cheek before making a small incision, before climbing back through the window into the dawns light. The blood now flows down my cheek onto my lips, and I now can smell and taste my blood. I try to think of something else, but the stench of blood can't allow me. I slowly get up, and stare at the message before realizing that the blood is not of my brothers..
But of me.
The thing must have had my spleen still when it splattered that message. I almost gag and vomit on the already bloody floor.
And then here we are, in real time. After the bathroom of me cleaning my new wound and laying back down in bed I realize what must be done.
I look inside the closet and grab my brothers .45 Colt. I put one bullet in the chamber, before signing my name at the bottom of this page in my own blood, and pulling the trigger.
After I put down the pen I sit beside my dead brothers corpse, the smell of death in the air, as I realize Death is inviting me, expecting one more victim. I smile as it's ME with the satisfaction. I go out on my own terms, the same cannot be said for my poor brother.
I already smell the new death in the room before the trigger is pulled. Soon, the feelings of life are all over, and the last thing I hear..
Is the window opening up once more, and a thick plop of some substance hitting the floor.
-Logan Caudill, or Logo.
This has also been a fun write, through thick and thin over the past few days and It was hard to find the motivation, but after I did, it was fun. Also, this is directed towards someone named sweetdreams, who is on this forum, and she has inspired me to be the horror writer I am today
Without further ado..
I breath heavily, noticing that the gash on my cheek isn't fake. I touch the mirror, like I'm touching my own skin, and see how terrible it really is. Red and puffy with infection, I'm sure. I get out the alcohol and start dabbing it on my face, feeling the hot, then icy cool of the medicine, burning the germs.
I put the top back on and leave the bathroom, feeling dizzy. There is a lot of blood on the floor of my bedroom, too much actually. The scarlet liquid soaks through my socks, making them cold again. I slowly climb back into bed and lay, staring straight up.
I tremble, trying to keep my mind off the horrible events of last night.
My brother, Dave, just got an apartment outside the city. An elegant apartment really, for a cool $600 it's easily likable. With 2 bedrooms, 1 bath and a big living area, it has more than enough room for 2 to live in.
Well me being 17 and wanting to leave my mother, I moved in with him. The first few weeks were great, not a hair out of place.
Then things went bad.
One particular windy morning in the middle of May, we were going to the store. When we came back we saw one of the bedroom windows open. We run inside to see nothing out of order, thinking it was a burglary. Then we look for anything that could harm us. Drugs, bombs, you know, the usual. We couldn't find anything, except a black substance.. It was thick, with a consistency typical to goo. I put a finger in it, the coolness spreading over my finger as I slowly pull out, the black liquid going back to the form it was before.
We don't know what to think. We search again, just incase we missed something, but our search turned up empty handed. I decided that it must've been some animal that left through the same window. But the substance still puzzled me.
After cleaning it off the hardwood floor, we decide to turn in for the night. During the night, I hear the window open. Me thinking it's a dream, I decide turn over and ignore it, but the rest of the night I feel someone just... Looking at me, like I'm some sort of meal.
Then, for about 30 minutes, I fall into a deep sleep. Then I wake up, sweating and panting. I slowly get up, but feel slow and groggy. I put my feet on the cool hardwood and feel a warm liquid run between my toes. I look down and see... Dark crimson blood. Blood that must have been mine, since I'm the only one in the room. I look down and see that my once white sleep shirt is now stained with my own bloody fluid.
Then, to add on to all of this, I look to see a bone chilling discovery: The black substance is now back and the puddle is bigger then the night before.
I let loose a piercing scream as I slowly feel my body shut down. I feel my nose break against the wall as I fall forward, then into an unconscious state.
I wake up in the hospital, with a plastic mask over my face. I look around the white room, scared, when my doctor comes into the room with wide rim glasses and grey hair. He speaks slow with a deep but caring voice.
Doctor: We have some news, you under went a home surgery. Your spleen was, uh.. Taken out, rather violently, but no real damage was made. You broke your nose, not too bad. You'll need to wear this mask at all times for the next week then only when you sleep the week after. You are in fine condition, we stitched you up and now you can be on your way in as little as a couple of hours.
I sigh a breath of relief as I'm told that the blood loss wasn't as terrible as I had once imagined, but am still puzzled. How in the hell did my spleen, my fucking SPLEEN, get taken out while I was asleep? I don't quite understand the logic of last night at all, and decide it's best not to think about it for now, but later will be better idea.
After we get home from the hospital, I spend the night in my still nasty room, and sleep beside my brother. He said he would feel better if he slept beside me just incase something was to happen. Whatever, did he not think I couldn't take care of myself?...
...I couldn't.
As I slumbered once again, I hear the creak of the window being slid open, and a thud. I dare not open my eyes as I hear a thick plop of liquid hit the wooden floor every 26 seconds (I couldn't do anything else besides fake being asleep and listen, so I decided to do something productive).
I listen in horror as my brother stirs, slowly kicking the covers off. I hold my hand to my mouth to keep from weeping aloud as he stands up and sees... Whatever it was that entered the room. I hear as his scream is cut short as the sound of a knife pierces the air, and the sound of blood pouring onto the floor. The thing keeps gutting my brother, and I decide to blink my eye open for a minute and the picture before me is horrific. I close my eyes again and try to hold back tears.
My brother was being cleaned out. His intensities and other organs are thrown to the ground with sickening, wet thuds. I try to block it out but every time I do it grows louder and louder and then, it stops. My brothers now lifeless body hits the wood. I choke back one more cry as I open my eyes for the last time that night. The thing was more like a man, in medium height probably 5'8 or 9 with a black hoody over it's head. In the face area, there was no face. No nose, no lips. The only thing that resembled a face was the eye sockets, which had no eyes inside, but instead something even creepier then it not having eyes..
A thick, black substance.
I stare, horrified at this.. This thing. It stared back, knife in hand. I watch as it reaches into a pocket and pulls out a reddish pink mass, just bigger then the size of a fist. It never takes it's.. Sockets off of me as it rips it in half, and slinging blood on the wall. The once white walls are now splattered in blood, almost like a modern art piece. Slowly I realize it's a message. A deep, dark message.
"I know you are awake. I will return."
And with that it threw half of the mass on the ground and the other half stayed in it's hand. It walked over to me and ever so slightly took the knife to my cheek before making a small incision, before climbing back through the window into the dawns light. The blood now flows down my cheek onto my lips, and I now can smell and taste my blood. I try to think of something else, but the stench of blood can't allow me. I slowly get up, and stare at the message before realizing that the blood is not of my brothers..
But of me.
The thing must have had my spleen still when it splattered that message. I almost gag and vomit on the already bloody floor.
And then here we are, in real time. After the bathroom of me cleaning my new wound and laying back down in bed I realize what must be done.
I look inside the closet and grab my brothers .45 Colt. I put one bullet in the chamber, before signing my name at the bottom of this page in my own blood, and pulling the trigger.
After I put down the pen I sit beside my dead brothers corpse, the smell of death in the air, as I realize Death is inviting me, expecting one more victim. I smile as it's ME with the satisfaction. I go out on my own terms, the same cannot be said for my poor brother.
I already smell the new death in the room before the trigger is pulled. Soon, the feelings of life are all over, and the last thing I hear..
Is the window opening up once more, and a thick plop of some substance hitting the floor.
-Logan Caudill, or Logo.
