Chapter 1
I’m in a peaceful sleep, deep and relaxing. It is the best sleep I’ve had in days.
Then I hear something that stirs me in my dreams. It is a small noise, but loud enough.
It’s a rustle, like the sound of someone shifting their weight. A rustle, like the sound of someone who doesn’t want to be heard.
I sit up, wide awake.
“Who’s there?” I whisper unsteadily.
Nothing but the silence of the night answers me.
“I know there’s someone here! Show yourself!” I say, a little braver.
When there still is no reply, I start to get up. I feel along the wall to the door, hoping I can turn on the lights to face what, or who, made that noise. I take my hands off and blindly stumble towards my lamp. It’s too dark to see.
For a second I wonder if it was only a paper falling from my desk, or even a figment of my imagination. It could have just been a part of my dream.
I laugh nervously at my foolishness. I could be getting worked up over nothing but a silly paper.
But still… it could be something. It could be some mentally deranged man. Or someone trying to rob my house. Maybe it’s a murderer. I could be stabbed, right here and now!
The fear that had been numbed momentarily rushes back to me, stronger than ever. I leap for the lights in a frantic attempt to see, to make sure all is fine, to look my oncoming death in the face.
I ram my hand on the wall and switch the lamp on violently. The room floods with light. I can see.
My heart flutters and thumps as I gaze around, checking every corner and shadow, but there is nothing.
Just my room, quiet and empty. Just my room, as it always is, in the middle of the night.
I sigh in relief, then shake my head.
How stupid am I, thinking there’s some person with an axe waiting for me? It was probably only the wind.
I turn the light back off after another brief search, scolding myself.
As I turn to get back in my bed, my arm brushes something prickly.
It almost feels like… hair.
“Hello there, little girl,” a gruff voice whispers in my ear.
I want to scream, but my jaw is frozen in an O of surprise. I can’t move, I can only squeeze my eyes shut in a feeble attempt to make the nightmare go away.
This can’t be happening. It can’t be.
Two burly, masculine arms wrap around me in a vice-like grip. His breath, warm and rancid, causes shivers down my spine. The smell of it seems to trigger some deep-rooted animal instincts and I start to thrash violently, trying to get away from this man. I nearly succeed in escaping his grip, but he swears and his fingers tighten.
I scream, high and loud, but my voice cuts off abruptly as the man jabs me in the throat. I double over wheezing in pain.
“SHUT THE F**K UP!” He growls. He gags me with something foul tasting and ties a scarf around my eyes. Then I feel him wrapping ropes around me. They dig into my skin as he pulls tight.
“Hey little b***h, maybe this’ll calm you down.”
The man laughs and shoves a wet towel into my face. I try to hold my breath, but it’s too late.
The last thing I remember is the sickeningly sweet scent of chloroform.
Chapter 2
I feel like s**t.
My head is throbbing and my whole body seems stiff. I don’t remember, maybe I drank too much last night?
I blink my eyes open with a groan.
Why is everything so dark? And why can’t I –
Oh. I’m tied up. And leaning against a hard wall. And there’s something covering my eyes.
Then the memories flood back. The noise. The man. The darkness.
But oddly, I don’t feel scared anymore.
Instead, I feel mad.
I’m mad at this stupid man, his stupid kidnapping and stupid ropes and blindfold. I’m mad at the world for having bad people in it. And if there is a God, mad that he let this happen.
Why me, of all people? Why am I the unlucky girl? I don’t have anything to give that filthy b*****d!
I silently rage at my life, my suckamentary of sorts. How unfair this is, that the small percentage of kidnappings had to include me!
I stop a moment to mentally take a breath, and something wet rolls down my cheek. I am stunned as more drops fall.
I realize I’m sobbing, and the tears start to fall in a stream, a gushing waterfall cascading from my eyes. My blindfold is soaked and tears drip onto my jeans.
My breaths catch, and the realization that I might die crashes in on me.
I can’t bear the thought of dying. I can’t think of never having a family, never caring for my own children. Never falling in love. Never finishing college, or hanging out with my friends. Never growing old.
Never saying goodbye.
I cry until I have nothing more to give.
Then a sudden feeling of peace overcomes me; this calm that it will be okay.
It soothes me, and I drift off to sleep.
Chapter 3
I’m awaken for the third time tonight, but this time by a harsh scraping noise.
I turn my head curiously to face the sound, only to smell the rotten aroma that could only be my captor. I immediately freeze, not keen to be knocked out again.
“Oh, good, the little b***h is still out. Be a shame if I killed ‘er, girls are so much more fun alive.”
I feel his arms wrap around me as he heaves me, none too gently, up and out of wherever I was kept before. His fingers dig into my skin and his hot breath chills me to the bone. I grit my teeth and try not to scream, but a small strangled whimper escapes past my lips.
Chapter 4
I tense, terrified, desperately hoping he didn’t hear, but it is too late. He opens his arms without warning and I hit the dusty ground with a thump. I soon I feel his own feverish skin next to my face and I cringe, curling tight into the fetal position. His stink, a nauseating mixture of blood, dirt, and B.O., rolls over me in overwhelming waves, and though the scarf still covers my eyes, I squeeze them shut even tighter.
“You tried to trick ol’ Mutt, did you?” He growls. “Tried to pretend you was sleepin’? …Well, we can’t have no tricky girls here, now can we? Better settle down now.”
His face moves back from mine, and I hear his boots step away with a crunch.
Then nothing.
I slowly uncurl and start to relax. Is that it? Was he gone?
Suddenly he slaps me with enough force to knock the cloth from my head. With a muffled gasp my eyes fly open, and I see my captor for the first time. From the light of the full moon, he looks about 40, a big, stocky looking man with wild, dark, matted hair and beard, grimy clothes, and a demented look in his bloodshot eyes. His fists are raised, and with a sudden rage, he shouts, snapping me back to reality. “YOU. WILL. NOT. TRICK. ME,” he howls, kicking me with every word. A sickening crunch reaches my ears with every impact, and after the first few kicks I know I have a least one broken rib. I lay on the hardpacked dirt, choking on blood, dusty tears leaving tracks on my face. “Stop! Stop!” I try to shriek, but it comes out through my gag as muted gibberish. He does stop though, and for an instance a spark of hope blooms in me. But in another second it’s extinguished as he picks me up again, fingers digging into my bruised side. My eyes widen and I scream, but the gag still muffles my cries.
The man raises me up above his head and throws me.
Chapter 5
In the air, time freezes. I finally have a moment to examine my situation.
In slow motion, the self-proclaimed Mutt still has his arms raised, and spit froths from his mouth. His lips shape unheard words I don’t care to find the meaning of. I slowly turn my head and decide to observe the beautiful night sky instead.
This is a much better view than from home, I think, my thoughts sluggish.
The moon glows with a soothing silver light, illuminating the desolate desert beyond. Bright stars, burning white and gold, mesmerize me.
What a pretty place to die, I think.
And as the ground rushes up to meet me, I smile.
Part Two
Chapter 6
“What a lame ending” you think, closing the Creepypasta app. “It’s like the author didn’t even try. Like they didn’t feel like writing anymore, so they just killed off the main character and said ‘screw it, let’s just end it here.’ …what a lazyass.”
Shaking your head, you get up from your chair and head to the kitchen for a snack. “I need a break from all those lame stories.”
You grab some cereal and start pouring a bowl. You just sat down when the doorbell rings. Grumbling, you get back up and make your way to the front door. You open it, prepared to decline an offer of cheap vacuums or girl scout cookies. Instead, you find me.
“Hello,” I say, politely smiling. “You see, there’s a bit of a problem.”
“What kind of problem?” You ask.
“Well,” I start, “you found out my secret.”
“Secret?”
“Yes,” I answer, stepping forward. “And no one else can know.”
“Hey, what are you doing, I don’t even know who you are!” You yell, backing away.
“Yes you do.” I smile again, but this time with large, pointed fangs. Claws sprout from my fingertips and horns raise from my forehead. You scramble backwards, eyes wide in fear, but I pounce, trapping you underneath me. I sink my fangs into your neck, but before you die you can just make out what I say.
“I’m the author. And no one can know about my laziness.”