Tuesday, February 18th
For almost the whole day, I didn’t know what to think, didn’t know what to do. This was beyond anything I had ever heard or experienced. This was the stuff of fantasy, horror, nightmare, yet I was living it. Why was this happening? Who or what was causing all of this? I didn’t know. But what really scared me was: What’s next? It had given me seven days. Seven days of terror, seven days of horror, and if it was going to be anything like the first night, seven days of death.
I had to solve this—to stop this. So I began where it all started.
After I finished completing the first log, I looked at the screen and asked,
“Who or what are you? And why are you doing this?”
I waited for a pop-up or another dialogue box to appear and answer, but nothing happened.
“Oh, come on,” I tried again. “Don’t tell me you’re gone. You were just telling me to fill this thing out a few minutes ago. Answer me!”
I watched the screen for any sort of change.
“Oh, for crying out loud!” I hollered at it. “Tell me what the heck is going on!”
I stared at the screen, but like before, nothing changed.
I drew in a long breath then, in a low voice, said, “Alright, look. I don’t know who you are or what you want. But if you want me to play this little sadistic game of yours, at least give me some hints. Will I be dealing with Jeff again? Or something else?”
I groaned, letting my head hit the desk in exasperation.
I glanced up.
On the monitor waited a textbox.
“No, you will not see Jeff again,” it said.
Finally! “Okay,” I said sitting up, “Then what’s coming next? And please tell me, who are you?”
The text disappeared. The cursor blinked a few seconds as if in thought, then it said, “I cannot tell you.”
“Can’t tell me who you are or who’s next?”
You’ve got to be kidding me. “Hey! Do you have any idea what you put me through last night!? Huh!? Do you!? Because last night I just witnessed my whole entire family get slaughtered by some smiling maniac and—what’s worse—I got slaughtered too! And now here it is the next day and somehow, I am alive and breathing. Now please, ANSWER MY DAMN QUESTIONS!”
The box emptied then began to refill; each word typed slowly, allowing me to follow along.
“If there is anything you should know about what is going on, boy, it is that all that has and will happen, you chose.”
“Huh?” I almost snorted. “What are you talking about?”
“You asked and you received. Despite the warning you were given. So respect me.”
This time I did snort.
“Oh, come on, really? You call that a warning? You gave me a fricken cryptic message. How was I supposed to know what you were talking about? That wasn’t a warning you freaking bunch of letters. WHO ARE YOU!?”
“You still show no respect, and for that, I will no longer speak to you. After today perhaps you will learn to choose your words carefully. You will survive longer that way.”
The box vanished.
True to its word, it didn’t speak to me again that day (believe me, I spent most of the morning trying to get that thing to talk again). But trust me when I say this: I learned my lesson.
I tried to live the rest of the day like normal. I didn’t bother trying to tell anyone what happened, because I knew no one would ever believe me (and it would probably end up with me getting shipped to the nuthouse). I went to my classes. Tried to act as if everything was fine and dandy.
Heh. I was anything but. I lost count of the amount of queer looks I got from my classmates as I sat down in each class, constantly looking over my shoulder for anything or anyone out of place. The first couple classes breezed by without incident. When half my day was over, I began to relax. I thought, Maybe, these nightmarish creatures only attack when I’m at home.
Like I would ever be that lucky.
The final class of the day arrived. I was halfway through the boring science lecture when I heard it: a girl’s dark, playful singing.
“Ring around the rosy…”
My eyes widened. Oh, crap. I scanned around the room for the source. Just about everyone was taking notes on the lecture or either sleeping in their desk (I don’t blame them), but as far as who was singing? I didn’t see them; even crazier, it didn’t seem like anyone else could hear it either.
“A pocket full of posies…” the song went on.
Where the heck is it coming from?
I tensed and rose halfway out of my seat, ready to scram, but just fast as it started the singing stopped.
What the…? Why’d it stop?
I looked around, waiting for it to start again, but when several minutes passed and it didn’t, I eased back into my seat, unsure what exactly to think. Was that supposed to be a warning? A hint of some sort? It wouldn’t be until much later before I found out.
The moment of truth arrived when I pulled into my driveway. I dreaded what awaited me. Having my throat slit and drained of blood by Jeff the Killer had been bad enough. How on earth was I supposed to cope with another freak?
It was six in the afternoon. The sun had nearly set. After what had happened both the first night and at my school, my mind and body was in overdrive. My eyes searched every bush, every shadow I passed; I jumped at the sound of every broken twig, scuttle in the brush, and squeak from a bird. In other words, I was jumpy as hell.
When I reached the back door, I cupped a hand on the window, and peered through the glass. I couldn’t see anything out of the ordinary inside, nor did I hear anything. Taking a deep breath, I entered. So far so good. Nothing wielding a kitchen knife jumped out. No creepy singing greeted me. Huh, I thought, maybe I’m just being paranoid.
“Oh, hi J.!” my sister’s voice greeted me.
“Holy—!” I fell backwards, back outside.
My sister rounded the hallway corner to see me lying on my back. “Uh…you alright?” she asked bemused.
“Yeah,” I mumbled, getting back to my feet. Jeez, I so didn’t need that.
I dusted myself off. Man, that was embarrassing. I haven’t even seen what might kill me yet and already I’m dying of fright from my sister!
“Why did you do that?” Anne asked.
“You startled me. That’s all.” No, “startle” doesn’t even come close to describing what she just did.
She cocked her head. “Since when do you ever get startled?”
“Just now,” I grumbled, pushing past her. I had no need to explain myself to her. She couldn’t begin to understand what I was going through (she could if she remembered, of course).
I went straight to my bedroom, slamming the door shut on my way. After a moment’s hesitation, I locked it too. I went back to the computer and tried to see if this Creepypasta freak would answer me. No such luck. Damn it.
I didn’t want to be caught unprepared like the last night, so I grabbed my hunting knife. It wasn’t the best weapon to have once you’ve compared it to the many nightmarish creatures there are online, but it was better than nothing.
Time passed quicker than expected. Before I knew it, it was 8 pm. Nothing had happened as of yet. Against my better judgement, I began to feel somewhat relax.
Maybe just hearing that voice today was all that would happen, I thought.
I sure as heck hoped it was.
To pass the time I started surfing the web trying to get my thoughts off what was happening. After a while, I began to realize it was kind of odd that I hadn’t hear anyone moving about in the house. I’m insanely curious at times, so I decided to see why. I rose from my seat and peeked out my door (don’t worry, I took the knife with me.) The lights were off, and there was no movement or noise of any kind.
I wasn’t going to even bother checking on my parents or siblings this time. I mean, come on, look how well that turned out the first night. I sure as heck didn’t want to find them dead for a second time; but I wasn’t going to stay in my room either. That would just be plain stupid. I grabbed my car keys off my desk and headed outside.
I had just gotten to my car and was reaching for the handle when I heard it.
“Ring around the rosy. A pocket full of posies.”
Uh, oh. I slowly turned around. No one was there; in fact, nothing was there, except trees.
Wait a minute, trees? That can’t be right. Where’s my house!?
I turned back to my car to find it was gone too.
Definitely not good.
I was no longer in my yard. Somehow, I’d found myself in the middle of a forest.
“Ring around the rosy,” I heard the dark tune drift from ahead of me.
I slowly nodded. Well, now I know which way I’m not going.
I about faced and headed off in the opposite direction of the singing. You see, I’m not stupid.
But neither was this thing.
The singing behind me faded, before suddenly beginning again in front of me.
What the…!? That’s BS! I took a few steps back. Yeah, not going that way.
I turned to my right and started heading that way…as did the singing.
Clenching my fists, I grounded to halt.
Alright. Fine! Left it is then.
I turned and the moment I did, the song followed.
“Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me!” I hissed. Why was it no matter where I went, it kept ending up in front of me!? “Damn it! I knew I should have stayed in my room.”
I’d have to confront this thing, whether I liked it or not. Taking a quick breath, I slid my hand into my pocket and slipped out my knife before slowly approaching the source of the mysterious singing.
“A pocket full of posies,” it grew louder.
Dang it, why is it when someone sings the slow version of that song it’s scary as Hell?
I pushed through some brush before finally coming to a small clearing. At its center stood the owner of the voice.
A girl skipping in a circle, humming and singing as she did. I could have easily mistaken her for a thirteen-year-old because of her height, but I could tell by her face she was older, sixteen maybe. Her hair was red, matted with blood. Her skin was as pale as the grave. She wore a torn jacket and bloodstained tank top. Her feet were muddied and bare. Her face…crap. I wanted to gag. Blood dripped down from her lips while her hair drooped over her right eye, but I didn’t need to see it to know what to expect, her other eye did that for me. It was gray, foggy, lifeless. The eyes of a corpse. In the middle of the circle she was dancing in lay a shovel; a shovel that had dried blood on its tip.
“Oh…crap.” I knew who this was. I had just finished reading her story on Creepypasta seconds before the pop-up had appeared the day all of this started. Her name was Theresa Lair, but she was commonly called by a different name.
“Tiny Teri.” I breathed in horror.
She stopped humming and began to grin at the mention of her name. Uh, oh.
“Why, helllooo there!” She giggled.
Why, ohhhhh crap there!
I didn’t say anything, couldn’t say anything, because unlike Jeff, this thing scared me in more ways than his twisted smile ever could. I pocketed my knife before she could see it. I realized it wouldn’t do me any good here. You can’t kill someone who’s already dead.
“Would you like to play a game with me?” she asked.
Building what little courage I had, “Um…if I say yes, do I get to continue on breathing?”
She grinned even wider.
“...I’ll take that as a ‘no’. So I’m going to decline. As much as I would love to play with you, I have somewhere very important to be. So again thank you, but no thank you.”
“Ohhh, are you sure?” she asked in a disappointed voice, her face showing mock regret.
I could only imagine what my face was showing then (probably pale, with a look of terror to it).
“Yeah, I’m pretty sure.” Dear God, please tell me I gave the right answer.
“Oh, come on,” she said. “Let’s just play one quick game.” She picked up the shovel and drove its head into the ground before leaning on it. “Here are the rules.”
“We will be playing a different version of Hide ‘n’ Go Seek. I’ll count to twenty and you hide. If I find you,” she patted the shovel, “You get to have a talk with Mr. Shovel here, hehehe.” She giggled. “If you try running away, Mr. Shovel still gets to have a word with you.”
Oh jeez. I remembered reading this in the story the day before. She did the same thing to three other guys before me. She told them to hide and that the last one she found would get to live. She’d lied, but she did give that guy a running chance. Unfortunately, in my case instead of three guys there was only one, and, what was worse, that “one” was me.
I am so dead.
She closed her eyes and began to count.
I didn’t stick around to hear three. I bolted.
I ran straight through brush and branches, praying that by some miracle I’d get out of the forest in time. But as I ran, I recalled how those three characters from the original story had tried to do the same. They were dead now.
I grounded to a halt the moment I was out of earshot of her counting. I couldn’t keep running otherwise she’d magically show up and bonk me.
I could only guess how far she’d counted, but I knew I didn’t have long.
How do I get out of this? I wracked my memory for what I knew about Teri and how she pursued her victims.
Okay, she forces people to play Hide and Seek, hunts them, starts singing whenever she’s close, then whacks you with a shovel. And as far as I know, no one has ever avoided the whacking part of that list. Crap! What do I do!?
I leaned against a nearby tree, trying to think of a way out of this while at the same time, keeping an ear out for singing. Any second now, she would’ve counted to twenty and began to look for me.
Could I try fighting her? The sudden memory of Jeff from the night before flashed before my eyes; the moment he killed me most of all. I shook my head. No, stupid idea. I killed Jeff and look what bloody good that did me. Besides, you can’t kill someone who’s already dead.
So what could I do? Just what were my advantages?
Well, I know she’s short, so I have a height advantage. I’ve read her story, so I know how she acts, but I also know nobody ever survives.
I cursed under my breath and pressed my forehead against the tree. I was running out of time.
What about motive? Would knowing why she kills help me?
I went over the story in my head again.
I know she became like this because some sick perverts raped and killed her.
So, could I reason with her? The image of her bloody grin flashed before my eyes. I shook my head.
Nope, can’t reason. Jeez! I slammed a fist against the tree. I’ve got nothing! All I have is being taller and that’s not gonna—
I froze, then took a step back and slowly gazed up at the tree. It was tall. The limbs just within arm’s reach. A smile came to my lips.
Know what, Teri? I’ll play your game after all. And I’ll win.
I steadied my breathing the second I heard it:
“Row, row, row your boat, gently down the stream…”
I sighed. Great. Now she’s singing that.
Teri paused the moment she reached the tree—the same tree I’d been leaning against earlier. Her head turned to the left then to the right then back to her left. Her lips curling into a bemused frown. I wasn’t a mind reader, but I could tell exactly what she was thinking: “Where in the world did he go? This isn’t supposed to happen. He’s supposed to be right here.”
Haha! What do you know? Being taller does count for something. I grinned as I watched her from the branches above. As it turns out, you could legitimately play hide and seek with a monster and win. All you had to do was use your brain and hope you’re tall enough to reach the branches.
Teri rounded the tree with the shovel over her shoulder. Her frown became more and more apparent as she scanned around for me. After several minutes of walking around for a bit, and finding no trace of me, she released an unhappy breath and set off in a new direction.
Seeing that the danger had passed, I drew in a deep breath and leaned back against the tree grateful that the hard part was over. All I had to do now was wait till morning or until Teri admitted she’d lost, and I’d won. I closed my eyes and relaxed.
I felt something soft fall onto my shoulder.
A leaf, I thought. Without opening my eyes, I brushed it off. One of the small prices you pay when hiding in a tree, I guess.
I took another deep breath and tried to relax.
Something soft and light landed on my head. Another leaf. Annoyed, I brushed it off.
Then something fell onto my other shoulder, then my lap, my legs, my head...
I opened my eyes to find leaves falling all around me.
“What the heck?” I murmured, brushing them off me. “Where are all these leaves,” I glanced up, “coming fro—” the words died in my throat. Oh no.
Above me with a bloody grin and giddy legs swinging back and forth over the edge of the branch, sat Teri.
“Why heellllooo there!” she greeted in a chippy voice.
“You have got to be kidding me!” I swung myself over the branch and began to scramble down the tree as fast as I could.
Above, Teri laughed. “Oh, careful,” she called down with false concern. “You don’t wanna fall.”
“Yeah, well it beats sitting up there with you!” I dropped down onto another limb then proceeded to grab another and drop down to the next one. “You think I can’t climb down a tree? Well, you’re wron—”
Crrrrriiiiiiiiiiicccccckkkk, whined the limb beneath my foot, then snapped.
“Oh crraaaapppp!” I cried as I fell ten feet.
“OW!” I felt the wind whoosh out of me as my back hit the ground with a loud thud. “Oooohhhh jeeeeeez…did that hurt.” I groaned.
I raised myself up with my elbows and scanned my body. Fortunately, it didn’t feel like I’d broken anything. Not so fortunately, I didn’t see Teri in the tree anymore.
“What the? Where she go!?”
“Ring around the rosy, a pocket full of posies.”
I tensed. I just had to ask, didn’t I? I pushed myself up into a sitting position. I swiveled my head around for Teri in vain. I could hear her but couldn’t see her.
“Ashes, ashes…” the song continued.
Oh no, I grew pale, I know what happens when she gets to that part of the song.
I needed to come up with something fast. It was too late run and fighting would just get me killed. I was out of options.
Or was I?
There was something, but it was a longshot and probably wouldn’t work.
I have to try.
Here it comes.
“Have you ever got the feeling that someone was watching you? That it tears you apart until there’s nothing left?” I blurted out, closing my eyes.
I held my breath, waiting for the shovel to come “down” and end Log 2 of this nightmare, but it didn’t. Hesitant, I cracked an eye open. Teri stood with the shovel raised above her head, poised to strike. Her eyes were wide, and her mouth fixed with surprise.
“What…did you say?” she asked.
I felt my heart begin to pound against my chest. I knew if I had any chance of getting out of this alive, I needed to keep talking.
“I think you know what I said, but I’ll say it again anyway.” I swallowed. “Have you ever got the feeling that someone was watching you? That it tears you apart until there’s nothing left?” It was the same exact question she had asked one of her early victims from the story.
She took a slight step back, her face still transfixed in surprise by what I said.
She doesn’t know how much I know about her, I realized. There might be hope for me yet.
“I know why you do what you do Teri,” I continued. “And I know that what I’m seeing in front of me right now isn’t the real you.”
Teri’s lips twisted into a frown. The shovel slightly lowered. “What do you know about that feeling? And how could you possibly know anything about me?”
“I know a lot. I know that you weren’t always like this. That you had a happy life, a good friend, and it was all wrongfully taken from you.”
Teri’s expression hardened. “That’s something you probably read from the obituaries,” she muttered and raised the shovel.
“If that were so,” I interrupted, “could I know about the paranoia you had the whole day prior of your death? Could I know how you felt when your best friend, Will, told you she would be home alone the day you died?”
That did it. The shovel clanged to the ground, as she stepped back gaping.
“Does it matter how I know?” I asked.
She opened her mouth to say something, but I didn’t let her have a chance.
“What you are doing right now, Teri, is wrong. You’re doing these things for the wrong reason.”
“You don’t know anything. You don’t know why I do what I do. I do this because—”
“You enjoy it? And you want revenge for what the three men did to you and to Will?”
She didn’t answer; she just stared.
“Tell me,” I glared at her, “would she be happy you’re doing this? Happy, that you’re taking your revenge on the innocent?” I asked.
“But it doesn’t really matter now, does it? I’m here, I hid, and you found me. So who am I to tell you differently? I’m just some nameless soon-to-be victim who knows the truth, like the fact that the three men who did this to you are still alive and walking around with smiles on their faces, and the three boys who didn’t do this to you are now six feet under. But then, of course, you knew that already, didn’t you? After all, you put them there.”
I could tell she was speechless. Her lips trembled and her breathing, uneven. To her I was just another notch on the shovel, another victim to add to her list. She’d expected me to scream, to cry, to beg for mercy, to do anything but talk about how she and her closest friend had died.
For what felt like an eternity, she stood with her face stuck in a mixture of bewilderment and shock. She didn’t know what to do next.
But I did. I could run. Escape while she was hesitant.
Yet, I didn’t. Don’t ask me why. I just felt like I had too. Despite her horrific appearance and sadistic games, I actually felt sorry for her. (Ridiculous, right? Me, feeling sorry for a monster.)
“Well?” I asked. “What are you waiting for? Swing-a-way with that shovel, Teri! Make Will proud!”
She didn’t. Instead she did the last thing I thought could happen: She cried.
Wow. Not the reaction I was expecting, but good either way!
I won’t lie though; the crying did freak me out a little bit. It’s ironic too. You would think an undead murderous monster that was snarling and singing would be a terrifying sight, but a monster sobbing tears mixed with blood? Well, that’s something else.
“Go.” The word came out of nowhere.
“What?” Did she just say what I think she said?
Through her bloodied tears, her eyes looked straight at mine. “You heard me,” she said. “GO!”
My jaw dropped. Wait, what I said honestly worked? Thank You God!!!
Somewhat dazed, I got to my feet. I was tempted to turn around and run, but part of me had to know. Against my better judgment, I asked, “What about you?”
Teri’s eyes narrowed. Her tears stopped. “I’m going to continue doing what I love,” she said. “And while I admit, it may not be right. It still makes me happy. Nobody else deserves to run around and live happily.”
And suddenly, I’d found myself breaking into a cold sweat. Whoa, whoa, whoa, hang on a minute! What just happened to the crying girl two seconds ago? I thought this meant she wasn’t going to do this anymore!
I gulped. “So then why are you letting me go?”
“Because, you’re different. You didn’t care about living. You didn’t run when you had the chance. And what you said was true. So go. You win.”
B-fricken-S! There was no way that was the truth. She was probably going to knock me off like she had to that third guy. Got his hopes up and then killed him.
“Alright,” I said backing away, wondering if I’d be able to run fast enough when the time came. Once I passed through some bushes, I turned and started walking. Under normal circumstances, I would have ran but I chose to walk instead. Reason being: if she was lying—and probably was—I wouldn’t be out of breath when she attacked.
I walked on for several minutes keeping an ear out for giggling, singing, footsteps—anything that would warn me Teri was about to pounce.
But it never came. I came to another wall of brush and bushes. Without thinking, I pushed through it, brushing away the clinging branches. When I reached the other side, I did a doubletake. There in front of me sat my little silver Ford. I blinked then looked behind me. The bushes, the trees, the whole forest I’d spent most of the night in was gone. In its place was my house with the starry sky above. It was as though I’d never left.
“Dang. I certainly wasn’t expecting that,” I murmured. I felt my lips twitch into a smile, and I began to laugh. It started out small then grew into full blown laughter.
I’d done the impossible! I’d survived a Creepypasta story! I couldn’t stop laughing. Damn it! I deserved a medal or something. What I did was unheard of!
After a bit, I calmed myself down enough to head inside and type all of this.
Which brings me here: I’m back and in one piece.
But it seems my sense of victory will be short lived. Another textbox just came up.
It says, “This story piece was one of the simpler and easier ones. The next five will not be as simple.”
Great, that fricken sucks. Oh wait, it says more.
“On a good note, you learned how to make good use of that tongue. Be sure to do so once we speak again. I look forward to giving your third part tomorrow.”