Alex Rite, clicked the X in the corner of the Creepypasta page before shaking his head. “A writer sucked into the world of Creepypasta? Pfft…please.” He leaned back in his seat with a frown. Talk about a long, complex, ridicules series, he thought with a roll of his eyes.
Alex was a towering 17 year old, soon to be 18 in a few days, at 5’9, had short flat dark hair, brown intelligent eyes and most importantly he was a realist. He didn’t believe for a second about this nonsense of Seven Days. How some kid like himself, was a writer and somehow ended up becoming a character within his very own. This whole eight part series he read was the kid’s testimony of how he came to be. The warning at the beginning of it had really got him immersed. He smiled as he recalled the first sentence, “For those who are reading this, don’t.” He chuckled.
If you really wanted to keep me from reading this you don’t say “Don’t read this!” That’s just going to make me want to read it all the more.
He looked back at computer screen, reopening the wiki page one more time. The rating system in the comments were unbelievable. Some people said, ten, some people wrote ratings that weren’t even real ratings like, 100000/10. His comment however had 6.9 out of 10 stars, but after seeing the community’s reaction, he changed it to 4. He wasn’t doing it to be rude, no, he told himself, he only did it because he didn’t agree-couldn’t agree, with the writer. The fact that the author, J.T. as he identified himself, would include so many other Creepypasta characters that weren’t even his within his story was outrageous and so unoriginal.
Alex, was a writer himself. Not a great writer, not an awesome writer, but a decent one or so he’d liked to believe. He knew how a story should go: It should always start with a character that the audience can relate to, flawed yet still have good qualities and from there present him or her with a difficult conflict. Not start with this, “Don’t read this story” bull crap like J.T, had, and certainly none of this shenanigans about having Creepypasta characters trying to kill you as the plotline.
He frowned at the page. To come up with a good story, they’re has to be original heroes and villains that come from the writer’s own imagination - not someone else’s – and most importantly: Not making yourself as the hero!
“Pfft, egoist.” Alex murmured before standing up to stretch his arms. He let out a long yawn and tossed a glance at clock as the screen’s bottom corner. It was 6:18, he’d started reading this series at 2:00. Man, he shook his head, he’d been reading this for nearly four hours!
“Huh, another reason to rate it at a four,” He murmured, “Too damn long!”
He stooped forward with his hand on the mouse, dragging the cursor back to the X in the corner to exit out, but hesitated. His eyes returned to the comments below the article. He had a better idea. Slowly he dragged the cursor from the X back down to his comment box before clicking it and typing: “Good, but unoriginally lame. You need to come up with your own character and stop following the fandom by reusing already existing characters. Especially when those characters have already been used thousands of times! So I’m giving you Four Stars, for your Brilliant Unoriginality!” He paused, chewing his lip.
“Ah, screw it.” He snorted then changed it to 3 stars, before closing it with a nod.
“Honey! Supper’s ready!” He heard his mom call from downstairs.
“I’ll be there in a sec!” he called back as he stretched one more time. He stared at the computer monitor, still frowning. There were just some people out there who shouldn’t write.
J.T. was one of them.
Tisk, tisk. Oh, Alex sooo cruel!
Alex hit the backspace key a few times, dissatisfied with his wording. He typed in a few more words and smiled as he read aloud: “The man was dark, dark as night, robbing all light from every corner, every recess of the room. Nothing was hidden from his gaze. The boy cowered shrunk as he held the closet door firm, praying the man wouldn’t find him. Something he knew wouldn’t happen.”
That sounds much better, he thought to himself. It had lots of description and suspense. He leaned back in his chair, his hands clasped together in admiration. It was good. It was real good, much better than that Seven Days story he’d read.
He frowned at the memory of it. It annoyed him that even after six hours had passed since he read it, he was still thinking about it. Why? What was there to even think about? He assumed it may be because of its unoriginality but now that it was past dark he was starting to feel…uneasy.
He recalled the bit from the series where it described that girl, what’s her name again? Katie? Kathy?
He racked his head a few times for the name. Killy? Kalie? Kaylee? No-Kayla! Yeah, that was it. Kayla. Yeah, her. She out of all the characters in it had scared him. Wait, no. Alex shook his head, correcting himself. The story wasn’t scary. Kayla had only…spooked him, yeah that was the word. Kayla out of all the characters listed in there was one of the few original ones he’d seen and out of all of them she was the strangest. Something about her character just didn’t quite compute with him. No matter how many times he pictured her in his head, no matter how many he times he reassured himself that there was nothing to be frightened of, Alex couldn’t help but shudder.
“Jeans, now turned black from the mud and blood. A torn, bloody-brown leather jacket. Bloodied, shoulder length, dark brown hair. Foggy, crazed, brown eyes. A twisted, but strangely, happy smile.”
Those had been the words used to describe her in the story. And it unsettled him.
He rubbed eyes and blinked the sleep out of them a few times before peer at the clock. 12:09 in the morning.
He sprang up in his seat, surprised he hadn’t realized how late it was. “Oh, boy.” He said quickly under his breath, “I need to get to bed.” He hit the save button before turning off the monitor and hopping in bed. He had school in the morning, and he sure as hell didn’t want to be late.
As he relaxed in bed and prepared for the night’s sleep, he thought about the story one last time before muttering, “Stupid.”
He closed his eyes.
The figure quietly sat hunched over desk, staring at the dusty typewriter. Even in the dark, the single hanging lightbulb above gave off just enough to see that he wore a dark blue hoodie, jeans, and dark tennis shoes. Of course, that’s all Alex could see from his dark secluded corner behind him. He couldn’t see the figure’s face but his aura felt exactly the same as the room he sat in: desolate. The walls were depressingly gray, lacking any form of decoration while its interior held nothing asides from the lone wood table with its typewriter and the depressed figure staring at it.
The boy sat silently, mournfully, lifelessly alone and unmoving. The blank bright white paper in the typewriter seemed to mock him with its emptiness. Waiting for him to write something, say something, do anything but sit and gaze at it. Yet nothing did. A few times his hand would go to hover above the keys, as if he was going to write but then it would withdraw and return his lap.
Alex continued watched in fascination. He was in a dream. That much he was certain of but never before had he been able to dream like this and be lucid. Yet for some reason, he wasn’t quite sure, he felt more like a specter. He was there and yet he was not there. He was just like a child watching a television, unable to act and influence the show.
For the longest nothing changed, until finally the figure in the hood let out a long sigh, leaning back in his chair. He raised his head up towards the ceiling and after a long minute said, “Why did it have to be this way?” The boy, it was indeed a boy judging from the voice, continued to sit in silence as if listening for an answer but from who? Alex wondered. God maybe? He didn’t know and he doubted he would get an answer.
After a few long minutes the boy’s head lowered back to the typewriter. Without warning, he jumped up and shoved it off the desk. The typewriter smashed into the floor would a loud clang, several small pieces flew from it as it rolled a few times.
Alex blinked, unsure if he was staring at a man in disgust or pain. From his angle, he could only see the side of the boy’s hood.
A wooden door on the wall adjacent to him that Alex hadn’t noticed at first opened spilling in white bright light. A dark silhouette stood under its frame, “Hm, I see you’re still enjoying your recent initiation.” It said with a playful, feminine tone.
The boy didn’t respond, in fact he didn’t so much as turn his head and acknowledge the girl’s presence.
“Aww…J.T. don’t be like that!” The girl giggled, “It’s not like it’s the end of the world or anything.”
The boy still didn’t say anything.
The girl let out a long sigh, more out of annoyance than what sounded like empathy to Alex, before stepping in and closing the door.
When he finally saw her, Alex did a double take. “No, friggen way,” he gasped as he recognized the girl and the name she’d called the boy all at once. She wore a brown classic leather jacket that had several small tears, with dark blue jeans. Her hair was dark brown, just touching her shoulders and her eyes made Alex cringe. They weren’t normal eyes. The irises were brown but within her pupils a grayness…like some sort of shifting fog lurked beneath them.
“Maybe it isn’t for you, but for me it is. Kayla.” J.T. replied before turning around. Again, Alex did a double take, this time at J.T.’s appearance. J.T. looked exactly how he imagined him, only now realistic. However, there was now one prominent difference from how he’d always pictured him-His eyes.
J.T.’s eyes were a perfect match of Kayla with its gray clouds swirling beneath, only his iris unlike Kayla’s were green. They were both fixed on Kayla’s own with a blank expression.
“Oohhh, J.T.!” Kayla shook her head with a pitying smile, “When are you going to let go and accept the fact that there’s no going back?” She crossed her arms, “Smile for once.”
J.T. turned his back to her.
Kayla let out an exasperated sigh. She walked over, stopping when she was directly behind him, “It’s not like you have anything to be sad about anyway. Look around you!” She extended a hand, gesturing around the room. “You’ve got it wonderfully. You’ve got your sanity, unlike everyone else who’s come and failed before you,” She grinned show her bright white teeth, “You can’t age or die.”
J.T. hands slammed down onto the table then flipped it over, shouting, “And that’s just it! Isn’t it?” He clenched his fists, fuming, “Not being able to die? I’m stuck here, permanently serving a sadistic, self-centered, omnipresent freak! Who gets his kicks and giggles out of tormenting people like me!” His nostrils flared, his fists so tight that they turned red.
Kayla smirked, raising only a single eyebrow when he flipped table. When he was finished she slowly shook her head, clicking her tongue in disappointment. “J.T. you really don’t know how to appreciate what you have, do you?” She let out a loud sigh before stepping beside him, “And you seem to be forgetting the biggest gift of all that’s come out of all this!”
J.T. whose stone hard face was still glaring at the ruined table snorted, “And what is that?”
An impish, mischievous grin spread across her face as she hung her arm around his neck. “Me!” She chirped then kissed his cheek.
J.T.’s heavy breathes stopped for a long moment before he very, very slowly turned his head towards her. “Get. Your Arm. Off me.” He said each word murderously.
Kayla giggled then took her arm off his shoulder. She shook her head a few more times smiling widely, “You know you keep making me think sometimes you don’t like me.”
J.T. threw his arms up before spinning around and facing Alex’s direction, exclaiming, “Oh gee!? I wonder what could have given that away?” He rolled his eyes.
Kayla giggled some more before moving beside him, “Don’t be a smart ass J.T.” She grinned, moving her head so close to J.T.’s that Alex was sure he would punch her, “Besides,” Kayla continued, “You know you like me.”
J.T. raised his eyes up to the ceiling, shaking his head.
Kayla didn’t seem to notice, “Ahh, looks like you need some cheering up and I have just the thing!”
J.T. furrowed his brow in confusion, “Excuse me?”
She walked around him with her arms still crossed and stopped in front him. She looked him in the eyes, “We’re going to have some fun.” She smiled mischievously.
J.T. tilted his chin up, “What do you mean?”
“Me,” she pointed to herself, “You,” she turned her finger towards him, “Have fun. Do I need to translate that?”
J.T. glared at her. Kayla grinned.
“We’re going back out to the real world to have some fun with one of your readers.”
J.T.’s face dropped from anger to shocked wide eyes, “The Sender’s going to do this to another person?!”
Kayla shook her head, “No, no, no. You and I are going to go do this. But you can relax, we’re not having someone else join us just yet.”
“Not a candidate? Then who? And why?”
“As I said: To have ffffuuuun.” She said dragging out the word with a smile. She cocked her head to the side with a slight shake, “You need to pay attention more. Anyway, where was I? Oh, yes. We’re going to go visit one of your readers and show him what happens when somebody insults me,” after a small she added, “And you.”
J.T.’s scrunched his forehead, “Insults you? What-how-who insulted you?”
Kayla’s smile melted, a sour frown taking its place, “He said your story was crap and that all of it was junk. Including when you and I first met. He gave it a rating of three stars.”
There was brief moment of silence before J.T. asked, “Is this three out of five or ten?”
J.T.’s lips curled into a smile, “To whoever this person is, I salute him. I didn’t want anyone to like it. Hell! I didn’t want anyone to read it!”
Kayla’s grin returned, “Why? Is it because you’re embarrassed to talk about how we first mmmmeeeeetttt? Hmm?” She inched closer to him.
J.T. pushed her back and took a few steps away from her with a groan, “Ugh…forget it.”
Kayla chuckled, “Anyway, I think it’s time we went ahead and got started.” She clasped both hands together with eagerness.
J.T. turned with a confused frown. He opened his mouth to say something but Kayla put a finger to his lips, cutting him off and then slowly turned in the direction of Alex. He could fully see her now and for some reason his uneasiness began to grow. Was it just him? Or did it seem like Kayla’s eyes were looking right at him?
Kayla smirked as she reached into her jacket pocket and sliding out a long wicked, bloodstained hunting knife. To Alex’s horror, she pointed it towards him.
“Reeeeadddyyyy Allleeexxx?” She cooed.
She rushed forward, plunging it down.
Alex woke up with a gasp, clenching at his chest. “Oh, God no! I-!” He cried out before trailing off. There was no stab wound. There was no dark room. There was no table. And more importantly there was no psycho stabbing him.
He drank in a huge breath of relief before slowly sitting up on the bed’s edge. He planted his feet onto the floor and lowered his head into his hands, taking in several more deep breathes.
That dream was something else. He’d had nightmares before but holy crap! That one? He his head out of hands, looking around the dark room. He couldn’t believe he’d been having a nightmare about that crappy story. Something so tremendously stupid, he couldn’t understand how someone could ever have nightmare about it.
He looked over to his alarm clock to see it was 6:00, a full two hours ahead of when he usually got up for school. He debated whether he should try and get some more sleep but decided against. The last thing he needed was to have another dream related to Seven Days.
He slid out of bed, and after taking another five minutes to regulate his breathing, gathered his things for school. He placed his backpack and clothes next to his bedroom door before going to the bathroom. He went ahead and took a good thirty minute shower to wake himself up and to clear his mind of that damned image of Kayla. When he finished, he got dressed and ready for school.
It was around 6:43 when he was ready, so he still had another hour or so before the bus would show up. “Ugh, great.” He sighed, gazing out his bedroom window. It was still dark, oddly enough. He swore this was usually the time the sun started rising in the east. Yet the sky was still black, bristled with stars and a lingering crescent moon and cool morning wind. He could see the nearby woods shudder as cold gusts whistled through, shaking leaves and beating against the window pane. He could almost feel the icy touch of the early January winter through the glass. He made a mental note to grab his jacket before heading out. He didn’t want to get caught out there without it.
He admired the early morning for a few more minutes before deciding to kill time with another way. He walked over to his computer desk and logged on. Perhaps could read something online or play a game to pass the before he had to leave.
As the computer slowly booted up, Alex’s mind once again drifted back to the nightmare. Despite his disgust with it, he couldn’t help but feel there was something off about that dream. True, it was certainly the work of his own imagination and his recent reading of Seven Days, yet it had seemed too detailed. The room, the table, the very atmosphere had felt so real, so vivid that he could almost swear it actually existed. No, wait. Alex shook his head, appalled that he would even think that. It was just a dream. Nothing more.
The computer finally booted up and Alex gladly dove into the World Wide Web.
The idea of his dream being real was impossible and furthermore it would make him look like an idiot. The mere thought that on a remote chance Seven Days had really happened and J.T., Kayla, and The Sender actually existed was, “Crazy.” He murmured as he clicked the link that led to Creepypasta Wiki. The familiar black home page of the wiki came into view, showing a list of the latest stories submitted to the site. Alex couldn’t wait to read something. He needed to get his mind off this Seven Days nonsense.
He dragged the cursor over to the site navigation panel and clicked “Genre Listing”. Immediately a long list of categories appeared beginning with “Animals” and ending with the “Weird” category.
“Alright,” he murmured, “What’s a good category?” He scrolled down the list of categories, reading each one aloud, “Diary/Journals, Lost Episodes, Lovecraftian” He stopped when he reached ‘Memes’, “Oh, memes! That’s always a good category.”
He smiled to himself as he clicked the link. The screen opened in a new window with another list of stories in alphabetical order. Alex loved memes as they were perhaps greatest type of stories that Creepypasta featured. It contained popular pieces such as “BEN Drowned”, “Lavender Town Syndrome”, “Polybius” and perhaps the most popular of all, “The Slenderman”.
These titles brought a smile to his face as memories of each one coursed through his mind. That smile scurried away from his face, melting into a loud groan when he noticed that all too familiar title, that he swore was stalking him. “Seven Days is a meme too?” He sighed. “What idiot put that as a meme? It’s not even scary!” He took his eyes off it and started looking down the list for a title that would reach out to him and reel him in, something unique that would yell, “Read me!” But no matter how hard he concentrated, no matter how hard he tried to keep his eyes from the column, his eyes kept going back to Seven Days.
Grinding his teeth, he finally gave in, dragging the cursor to the first log. He was going to end this dilemma right then and now. He was going to prove that this whole series was a fake that didn’t need to exist.
He clicked the link and was brought to a page displaying Log 1, but he didn’t bother to read it. Instead, he scrolled all the way to the bottom where the Copyright notice and author’s name was shown.
Alex couldn’t help but roll his eyes at the author’s name: “J.T.” He knew that couldn’t be true. He clicked it and was brought to another webpage featuring the user’s profile. He’d expected to see a blog where updates were given for future writings or pics showing things that the user was interested in but to his surprise the profile was almost lifeless. Barren.
All that was shown were two hand drawn pictures of both “Kayla” and series’ villain, “The Sender”. The page’s profile tab, where general information was usually listed about the author, contained only four simple words: “I am a Writer.”
He couldn’t believe his eyes. Alex quickly skimmed through each tab on J.T.’s profile, hoping for some small sign that this person was fictitious and none of this was real, yet he couldn’t find any, even the tab where blogs were posted only had one entry titled, “It’s Finished”.
The entry itself was composed of three short sentences, “Seven Days: Log 1… All of the logs are up. Read them at your own risk.”
Alex shook his head. This couldn’t be. Where was the evidence that proved that this was all a fake!? He leaned back in his seat in bewilderment.
Could it all…really be real? Could this story actually have happened? Could it have - No!
Alex straightened in his seat with a frown. This wasn’t real. There was no possible way it could be. The author obviously made the profile like this to fool and scare people. And Alex had come dangerously close to falling into that trap.
J.T. was fake. J.T. was an idiot.
Alex glanced at the clock to see it was 7:00 am. Still nowhere near time to leave. He looked back at the monitor. He didn’t think he could continue looking through the Creepypasta wiki for a story while his mind still buzzed with J.T.’s story. He needed to clear his head some other way.
Breakfast, he thought, would be a good start. Alex logged off the computer with a long stretch before grabbing his stuff and heading downstairs to the kitchen. Though it was 7:00 and the sun was now just rising, the overcast still made the house look pretty dark and to his discomfort, pretty cold.
Before got anything out to eat, Alex grabbed his black jacket from the coat rack near the kitchen’s door. When he pulled on, there was a loud crinkling noise that came from its side pocket. “Huh?” He dug his hand in it to pull out a folded up note.
“Funny, I don’t remember putting this in here.” He mumbled before unfolding it. What was written on the note made him loose his appetite for breakfast.
On the note written in a sharp, intimidating-looking cursive was written,
“Are you ready Alex?”
Before understand what was happening, the temperature of the room fell ten degrees then plunged into darkness. The light from the morning sun vanished along with light from the digital clock on the kitchen oven.
But worse still, was the silence. The sound from the morning wind died along with the ticking of his watch. It was like someone had taken a remote and hit the mute button.
Alex’s heart began to pound against his chest at an unbelievable fast pace.
“Oh God.” He gasped wide eyed, yet couldn’t hear the words. He started backing away until he bumped into the wall “What’s happening?” He whispered, but again couldn’t hear it.
That’s when he heard the dark chuckling come from all around him. Alex’s jaw tightened and eyes grew wide when it turned into a dark icy whisper, “Because IIIII am.”
Something grabbed onto both of his ankles. Alex didn’t need to look down to already know he wasn’t going to see two human hands grabbing them, the sharps tips of talons confirmed that for him. Before he could even react, he was yanked downward, through the floor as if it were made of water. He screamed as he was dragged down deeper and deeper into the sea of nothingness.
The first thing he heard was the steady sound of water dripping. The first thing he felt was the warm, moist sensation on his chest from it, and the cold touch of the smooth stone floor. Alex slowly opened his eyes. His mind was spinning on its axis and everything around him seemed so blurred. Where was he? How did he get here again? Why was he here? Why did his head hurt so much? And why was it so dark?
He sat up and winced as his head started throbbing. He rubbed the back of it, massaging it. As he did, he took in his surroundings, or at least, tried to. Everything around him was dark. He couldn’t tell if he was a in a room, a sewer or a prison cell. He knew he had to be inside at least, there was water dripping from above and he could feel the lines in the brickwork of the floor which was odd. Since when does anyone use brickwork for flooring anymore?
The only thing he could think of that used stone bricks for floors were the old medieval castles, much like the ones he read from stories as a kid. He froze then jumped to his feet, wide eyed. Stories! Everything that had happened came rushing back. He’d gotten up that morning, he’d read a creepy note, he’d been attacked by a monster, and he’d been dragged by that monster to- “Here!” He swerved around, frantically looking back and forth for whatever it was that had taken him here. But in this darkness, he could make out nothing.
Okay, okay, calm down. Relax Alex. He told himself. There’s nothing there. There’s nothing here. This isn’t real. This is all one big nightmare. One very scary, lucid, nightmare. He steadied his breathing. Yeah, there’s no way any of this can be real. This is all in your head. You went to bed last night after reading that crappy story and just having a nightmare influenced by it.
He smiled at this line of thought. “Hahah, nice try.” He said aloud crossing his arms. “I don’t know why it didn’t occur to me sooner. This isn’t real. This is just my F’d up mind playing an elaborate joke on me. So, see you later suckers. I’m waking up now.” He closed his eyes and willed himself to wake up. He pictured his bedroom in the early morning. He could see himself lying in bed as the early morning sunlight streamed through his window warming up his face. He could hear his mother’s voice from downstairs as she prepared breakfast, telling him if he didn’t get up, he’d be late for school. The aroma of pancakes drifted up the stairs, warming his soul. The sound of dripping water faded, the touch of the icy cold air evaporated, and the warm sensation of a sunny morning spread through his body. It was time to wake up.
He opened his eyes.
To hear the constant dripping of water against stone, to feel the icy cold touch of the damp air, and to see the never-ending darkness that covered everything around him.
He gaped. What went wrong? Why hadn’t he woken up? He knew how to wake up, he’d done it before in his dreams. Why was he still here!?
A small hissing laughter suddenly came from within the darkness. “Did you honestly think it would be that simple?” Asked a raspy, icy, voice.
Alex’s heart froze.
“Just close your eyes, and pretend everything is alright? Hahahahahah!” The laughter came from everywhere and yet nowhere. It shook Alex out of his daze, making him back away from where he could only assume the voice had originated. “I-I-I, just-just-!” Alex stuttered so badly that the rest of the words wouldn’t come.
“Having trouble speaking?” It chuckled with delighted amusement, “How about screaming?”
Before the words registered, Alex heard the sound of air rushing past his right arm, then felt the searing sensation of pain run down it. “Ahhh!!!” He screamed as he felt blood pour out of his arm.
The assailant laughter echoed louder before dying down into a whisper, “I haven’t been entertained for so long, that I’m feeling a bit generous. Tell you what, I’ll give you a head start to run and hide before I come and suck both the light and life out of your miserable excuse of a mortal shell.” A small light flickered above Alex revealing a small portion of the room that made him feel stupid as he finally recognized where he was. The leaking pipe running across the ceiling, the cold stone floor, the dark damp air…This is my basement! But what should have brought relief only brought a terrible, terrible, dread. For something impossible materialized within the flickering light. A dark man- no! A dark creature in the shape of man was starting at him. And although he couldn’t see it, Alex knew that this creature was grinning with sick pleasure at his pain.
Worse still, was why he knew.
He’d created it.
This was the creature he had been writing about the night before. The one who’d trapped the boy in the closet. The one he made it impossible to escape from.
And it was coming for him.
Alex wasted no time scrambling up the stairs. He slammed the door shut behind him when plowed through, then after a moment’s hesitation, dead bolted it for good measure before running out. He knew he was man clasping at straws because if this thing really was the creature he’d been writing about, that deadbolt wasn’t going to do him any good, still he had to try.
Like the evening wind, he blew through the halls of his home, heading straight for the front door. With a sense of hope and freedom he grabbed the knob and yanked it open, only to freeze to a gaping standstill.
Bricks. A brick wall was in place of where the door was. He took a step back then raced to nearby window, throwing back the blinds, again only to be confronted by the solid form of a brick barrier.
“No…No…Nnnoooooo!!!!” Alex banged the walls with his fists. “You can’t do this to me!” He screamed as he banged and banged against the wall until his knuckles began to bleed. He lowered his head in defeat but raised it quickly when he heard the footsteps slowly pace the hall.
The lights within the room dimmed lower and lower with the sound of each approaching step. Alex needed to get out of there fast, but where could he go!? Nowhere was safe. How could he possibly escape this? How could he defeat something he made undefeatable?
Wait! His eyes widen. He turned back towards the hall that led to the stairs where his bedroom and computer awaited.
Where his unfinished story awaited.
Alex knew what he had to do.
Ignoring the lights that flicked out above him, he soared through the darkness and down the hall to where the stairs lay. He was so focused on getting to his computer than he didn’t even notice the blood trail left from his still bleeding arm. But to him, nothing was more relevant than the story.
He took the stairs two at a time. When he reached his bedroom door he barged through, slamming it shut behind him and pulling his dresser in front of it. Every second he could stall this thing, was another second he could work with. It wouldn’t keep the monster out but it would buy him time.
He scrambled over to his PC and powered it up. Normally, his computer would take about four or five short minutes to boot up, but to Alex the passing minutes felt like years, years that he couldn’t afford.
“Come on, come on, come on!!!! BOOT FASTER DAMN IT!!!” His bedroom door began to turn black as the wood began to turn into charcoal. A sub-freezing chill leaked through the ever-growing cracks. He was running out of time.
There was a beep when the desktop finally presented itself. Alex jumped straight to the Microsoft Word folder where he kept his unfinished stories and sifted through the list for the unfinished one.
Behind him, the door began to creak and wane as small pieces of it fell away and shadows spilt in. Alex risked a glance at it, and immediately regretted it.
The dresser in front of the door was slowly turning black. He knew what that meant, and he knew from what he’d written that it wouldn’t be long until it was nothing but piled ash.
Faster, must move faster! He opened the document and scrolled to where he left off. He smiled as he saw the cursor blinking patiently for him. Ha!!! I’m about to do what J.T. wasn’t smart enough to do!
He didn’t even need to look at his monitor. He knew exactly what he needed to write to get himself out of this. He furiously punch the keys with his fingers as he wrote out each word of this story. Never before had he typed so fast. Sentence after sentence, line after line, second after second he typed. Finally, when he reached the final work he slammed his finger on the Enter Key and Ctrl-S.
“There,” he exhaled, “A happy ending.” With a smile he looked up at the monitor expecting to see what he had written completed, his salvation at hand.
He fell back with a scream.
There was no word document on screen. There was only a girl’s face grinning ear to ear.
Grinning, directly at him.
“Boo!” she giggled.
“No!” Alex screamed, “What’s going on!? Where’s the manuscript!? Who are you!!? Why are you doing this!? Let me have it back!?” Alex demanded, tears rolling down his face.
“Oh, look at poor lil, Alex.” The face made a mock pout. “Stuck in his room all by his lil’ lonesome self while the big bad monster goes boo at his door.” She snickered then said in a more serious, darker tone, “How cliché.”
He spouted several profanities at the girl as he demanded, “Give me the document back! Please! It’s coming!”
Beads of sweat were trailing down his forehead as his eyes watched the dresser’s begin to slowly crumble in onto itself. He had minutes left.
He turned back to the monitor hyperventilating, pleading with his eyes to help him.
The girl only smiled, “Hm…I could give you back the manuscript.” She slowly nodded her head while scratching her chin, looking away as if in thought, “But...” Her eyes met Alex’s with a sinister gleam, “Where would the fun be in that?” The malevolence in her eyes and grin were so dark it made the Mariana Trench look like Las Vegas.
The room’s temperature was well on its way to below freezing. Alex’s breaths were now visible. He had a minute, maybe two at the most before he was screwed. He gripped the screen with both hands, so that the girl’s brown, gray eyes were leveled with his, “Please! Why are you doing this to me!? Who are you!?”
She clicked her in disappointment. “Oh, Alex.” She sighed, “Who do you think I am? Hmm? Come on. I think we both know that you know. Or at least I hope you know that I know you know.”
Seriously!? Was she actually going to taunt him like this? He shook his head. No! Of course he didn’t know who she was. How could he possibly know? She’d just magically appeared on his computer when everything started going to hell. Why would she think he knew who she-
Alex stiffened, his eyes returned to the girl’s. Brown, gray eyes? No, no! It can’t be. She can’t be. She’s not real! She can’t exist!
But yet she did. She was right there in front of him, smiling her all too dark smile. His mouth slowly opened and close, too stupefied to mouth the words. The girl, as if she could read his mind, nodded in approval. “That’s right Alex. It’s me…Kayla.” She chuckled, “Care to rate this story three stars?”
Alex, was speechless. Alex, was out of time.
That was the moment the shelf finally collapsed onto itself and the door behind it began to creak open. Alex knowing he had no other option did that last thing he could do: hide.
He scrambled into his closet, and gently closed, until only a sliver showed the room. He watch the lights slowly dim into darkness as the creature stepped into the room. He could still see Kayla’s face on the screen, watching him with those damning eyes. She winked at him then began to speak,
“The man was dark, dark as night,” she began. Alex gasped, he knew what she’d gotten those words, “Robbing all light from every corner, every recess of the room.”
The lights went out.
“Nothing was hidden from his gaze.”
The dark outline of a man stepped in front of the screen. Alex began to tremble.
“The boy cowered shrunk as he held the closet door firm, praying the man wouldn’t find him.”
Alex, did just that.
“Something he knew wouldn’t happen.” Kayla finished.
The room went silent. The only thing that could be heard was Alex’s own labored breathing until a slow steady grumble that grew into a laugh came from the other side of the door. He knew what that meant.
The door flew open, the darkness and its icy embrace rushed in, consuming him.
Alex could only scream.
His scream was cut to a yelp as he hit the floor. He’d fallen out of bed the moment his alarm clock had started blaring. He was covered in sweat and was panting. It had been a dream.
All of it. None of it had happened.
“Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you!” He found himself mumbling over and over as he got to his feet. He looked up at his alarm clock. 6:00 am.
He silently thank the heavens for alarm clocks. He didn’t want to think about what would have happened had he not set the alarm. He smiled and went about getting ready for another busy day at school. While in midst of getting dressed, a thought nagged at him about the nightmare. There was something about it that hadn’t been quite right. Almost as though he forgotten something important. Frankly, though, he didn’t care. He only cared that it was over and that the only thing he had to truly worry about was his upcoming exams at school. With a sigh of relief, he stepped out of his bedroom door, prepared for what life laid ahead of him.
Only to find out that he wasn’t.
Not even close.
He was in dimly lit room. The walls were bare, gray, and lifeless as the room’s air. There was nothing on the walls, save for a small wooden door adjacent to him. He recognized this room. More importantly, he could scarcely believe he was back, only this time, in person. But what stood out the most to him, the one thing about this room that his eyes were glued to, was what was in its center.
A young man wearing a hood, hunched over in a single chair, looking depressed. Alex didn’t need to see the kid’s face to know who it was. He just couldn’t believe he was seeing him.
“J.T?” He whispered.
At the calling of his name, J.T. gazed up from his stoop to Alex. His face was blank as was his gaze. Like he was looking through Alex and not at him.
For the longest time, neither one of them spoke. Alex, still marveling at the revelation that J.T. really did exist while J.T. studying him.
It was J.T. who broke the silence, “I’m sorry kid. You have no idea how much I wish this hadn’t happened to you.”
Alex was speechless. His mind was still trying to process what he was seeing and hearing.
This was not lost upon J.T. “I can understand your surprise. You probably thought the same as everyone else who’s read my story: I’m not real. The story’s not real. Nothing on the site is real.” A small, sad spread across his lips, “I don’t blame you. I used to think the same thing until, well, you know.” He paused. Evidently waiting for Alex to say something.
He didn’t though.
J.T. sighed, “Look, I know you’re probably still in shock after everything that’s happened but you need to snap out of it and start thinking. And I mean you need do it now, because you don’t have long at all.”
That got his attention, “What?” Alex finally sputtered, “W-what do you mean? What’s not over?”
J.T. raised a hand and gestured all around him, “This. If you’re here, it means she brought you here and knowing her… she’s going to do more terrible things. So you need to listen to me.”
“Who are you talking about? Kayla?”
“Why?! Didn’t she already have her fun sic’ing my own monster on me?” He hoped he was right.
He wasn’t, “No. Kayla is Kayla. Once she gets pissed and gets going, she doesn’t stop. Take it from the guy who’s been stuck over year with her.”
Well, didn’t that make his day? “Okay,” Alex relented, “What do we do?”
“You mean what do you do? I’ve already changed into…Into something else.” He cast his eyes down, regretfully, “I can’t leave.” He looked back to Alex with stern determination, “You can though. Now listen carefully and make sure you follow my words to the letter. You need to-”
That’s when I chose to step in and stop their little escape plan. “Oh, J.T.” I giggled as I stepped out from the shadows behind Alex. He and J.T. both jumped. “Kayla!” J.T.’s eyes widened. “How did you-?”
“How did I suddenly appear? Well, honey.” I grinned, “I’ve been standing there the whole time.” I put a hand on Alex’s shoulder who immediately tried to back away, but I pressed a finger into his shoulder keeping him in place. “Right behind poor lil Alex here.”
I turned to Alex, “Nice to see you again. Did you enjoy our last little get to together?”
Wide eyed, Alex frantically shook his head. “Aww, that’s too bad. But guess what?” I looked from him to J.T. with my wonderful grin, “I’ve got another idea.”
The horrific look from Alex’s face and the angry sternness that came over J.T.’s, only made me want to do what I had planned all-da-more, “We’re going to play a little game of tag.”
I looked back to Alex, “You’re going to be the runner, while J.T. and I,” I winked at J.T. “Will be it.”
“Kayla. No.” J.T. narrowed his eyes at me. “Don’t do this to him. You’ve already put him through enough. You’ve proved your point to him.”
“Really?” I let go of Alex and marched up to J.T. “How can you possibly say that? You’re not Alex.”
“No, but I’d say he’s gotten the message.”
I sighed. It annoyed me how J.T. could be dull-headed at times. Time to prove a point.
“Right. Alex?” I turned back to Alex who’d dashed to the door while I’d been talking to J.T. He had both hands on the handle and was trying with all his poor lil’ might to get it open. It was pointless really. I’d made sure it couldn’t be opened unless I wanted it to be. “Alex?” I called again. He didn’t seem to hear, but if he did he didn’t seem to care.
“ALEX!” I yelled. That got his attention. He jumped and spun around, sweating pouring down his entire face. I narrowed my eyes at him and shook my head disapprovingly, “Didn’t your mother ever teach you anything? You don’t try to leave in the middle of someone calling you. Now, I need you answer me a simple question.”
Alex swallowed then nodded. “O-okay. W-what?”
“Did you learn your lesson and if you did, what was it? Oh, and if you answer correctly, I’ll let you go.”
Hope flickered in his eyes at the mention of letting him go, “Yeah I learned it!”
“Okay,” I smiled, “What was it?” I waited patiently.
Alex opened his mouth to answer, but no sound came out. He closed it and chewed his lip. “Umm…It was…It was…-Uh.”
Yeah that’s what I thought. I turned back to J.T. with a frown. “Seeeeee?”
He let out a long sigh, “Okay. Maybe he didn’t but it isn’t like you told him why you’re doing this.” He looked to Alex, “She’s doing this to you because you said Seven Days sucked. Which, by the way, I approve of.”
“J.T.!” I was shocked. “Why would you say that!?”
He glared at me, “Because, Kayla. It ruined my life. It ruined your life, but you’re too far gone to know that. More importantly it’s ruining his life now.” He jerked his head at Alex. “And it’s my story, so I can decide whether it sucks or not.”
I frowned. The nerve of him sometimes. “Okay, J.T. If that’s how you’re going to treat yourself and your work. By all means go ahead. Belittle yourself. But oh…wait!” I gasped, “I just remembered. I loved your story. The Sender loved your story. Oh, and all those other readers who read it loooovvvveeeeedd it. Which means,” I paused, so he could get what I was telling him through his thick skull, “It doesn’t suck!”
Anger seeped from him. He opened his mouth, but I put a finger to lips. “There’s no need to get all pouty J.T.” I patted his cheek. “Now, if you’re done having a temper tantrum, which by the way, I thought you were far more mature of doing, let’s have some fun and teach Alex a lesson.”
Alex began to protest, but I had enough arguing for one day. I snapped my fingers and the room around us vanished.
Alex found himself in a narrow bricked wall corridor. He didn’t see J.T. or me anywhere. He was alone. For a brief moment he was relieved he didn’t see us. He’d just about had enough of horror to last a life time. But unfortunately for him, we were just getting started.
The few light bulbs that hung from the ceiling went out, except for a select few. The one directly above Alex, and the ones that hung above each intersection of the labyrinth that I’d placed him in.
He shrunk in place when that happened. He hadn’t expected everything to get so dark again. Nor had he expected to hear my wonderful laugh echo from the darkness behind him. That only made him pale. “Oh, no.” He breathed, then slowly turned around. He didn’t see anything. There were no lights down that way, but he could hear the sound of footsteps grow louder as I approached him.
He didn’t need any more motivation to move. He spun and high tailed it straight down the path. He passed the first set of intersections he came upon, pausing only briefly to look over his shoulder. He saw me step beneath the first light with a grin. I stood straight and held up a bright silver gleaming object in my right hand. “See this, Alex?” I angled the blade of the large knife to reflect light towards him, “This is what I use to tag you.” I snickered at him, as the light above me and the intersection he stood in flickered off.
Oh, shit. Alex gulped before spinning and sprinting for the next intersection. He swung around its corner not caring where it led. He couldn’t see anything in this darkness and what he could see were just the few lights that marked the different paths he could take. As he ran, he wondered if there really was any chance to escape. This place looked way too similar to a maze and worse still, he felt like a lab rat trapped in it. A scary thought came with that: Rats never escape the maze. There’s no exit.
No! He scorned himself. Don’t think like that! There’s a way out of this. You just have to find it. He prayed he was right.
After running and twisting through the many tunnels for what seemed like forever, Alex slowed his pace down until eventually he halted in the middle of one of the corridors. He made sure to stop in the dark and not underneath one of the hanging lights, since that was just like holding up a big blinking sign that said, “Here I am!!! Come and get me Kayla!!!” That was the last thing he needed right now. He was already way too exhausted to run, let alone defend himself if it came down to it.
When he finally caught his breath, he listened carefully for anything out of the unordinary. All was silent. He didn’t hear approaching footsteps, knives screeching against walls, or laughter. Laughter. Alex let out a weak chuckle as he recalled how J.T. had done the same thing in Seven Days. It was ironic he was going through almost the same ordeal as J.T. had.
He paused in his breathing, wincing. He found himself regretting what he’d said about J.T. The poor guy. How could he have ever said such terrible things about him? He’d been telling the truth from the very beginning of his story all the way to the end. He’d warned everyone to not read it. Yet Alex had. Not only that, he’d read it and insulted it. And look where that had gotten him.
He glanced back the way he’d came. He should’ve never had crapped on J.T. and his story like he did with the other writers before him. He should just skipped over it and clicked another story to critique.
Alex closed his eyes, again feeling guilty. Critique another story. It occurred to him that he’d always been doing that sort of thing. Going online, reading other people’s stories and more often than most, belittling them. He rarely gave a word of praise to anyone’s work but his own. Come to think of it, he’d never given out a word of praise, ever. That made him feel all the more guilty.
He let out a sad chuckle, “I guess there really is a lesson to be learned here. Heh, and it wasn’t just making fun of Seven Days.”
“That is correct.” A young man’s voice said from behind him.
Alex yelped and spun in surprise. Someone stood directly behind him. He couldn’t make out anything except for the outline of a hood.
“J.T.?” Alex hoped.
A light blazed to life above of them, revealing the figure. It wasn’t J.T.
It was a young man just a few inches taller than Alex. He, like J.T., wore a hoodie only his was a solid dark gray, just bordering at being considered black. The top half of his face was hidden but the bottom half revealed a sinister smirk.
“Who are you?” Alex demanded.
The figure tilted his head slightly to the side, never losing his smirk. “Do you not know?”
Alex had a guess he did, he’d just hope he was wrong. “The…Sender?” He gulped.
The Sender nodded, “Yes. It is nice to meet you Alex.” He extended a hand.
Alex just stared down at it. Not knowing what to do. “Not one for handshakes?” The Sender asked.
Alex, glanced from The Sender’s outstretched hand to his hidden face then back to it before reluctantly shaking his hand. The Sender’s smile broaden. “I am happy to see that there are still civilized beings in the universe.” He let go of Alex’s hand.
“So, you’re The Sender. Uh…wow. I…Never thought I’d see you.” In fact, he’d hope he’d never see him.
“Because you are afraid I might put you through what I put J.T.?” It was more of a statement than question. “You have nothing to fear. Despite what you may have heard of me. I am not that cruel. I only put those I think are worthy of being changed through such trials. Or to be more precise, I put those with the quality I am looking for through the trials and only those who are worthy are the ones who succeed. You Alex, are not such a writer. I am sorry.”
Alex wasn’t sorry. He was relieved. “Oh, okay. Um...That’s fine with me. I just thought uh…Um are you-are you here to kill me?”
The Sender laughed. “No. I am not here to kill you. In fact, I am here to help you.”
“Say again?” Alex wasn’t sure he heard right. Had the archfiend from Seven Days, say he was here to help him? “I’m sorry, I must have misheard you. You said, you’re going to help me?”
The Sender nodded his head.
Alex’s jaw hit the floor, “Why? I thought you were all for having me killed.”
He shook his head, “If you did not learn anything, then yes I would have not minded your death. However, you did. You learned exactly what you needed to from all of this. Therefore, I am willing to help. Unless, of course, you wish to die instead.”
“No!” Alex interjected, “I want to go home. I want this to be over.”
The Sender nodded. “Very well. Heed my instructions carefully.”
Alex never paid more attention to anything else in his entire life.
It was a surprise to me when Alex seemed to be coming towards me rather than running away from me. I could only assume he’d gotten turned around in the dark and had accidently backtracked.
He stepped underneath the light and bent over with his hands on his knees panting. I chose to step into the light right at that moment. “Hi, ya there Alex.” I laughed then slid the knife under his neck faster than he could react. “Wait!” He called out. I hesitated, curious to see what he was going to say. There was no way he could ever convince me to not kill him, he should’ve known that. So why was he trying?
“What is it Alex? Tell me?” I batted my eyelashes at him, waiting for an answer. To my surprise he didn’t look at me but looked over my shoulder. “J.T.,” he called out, “I know you’re over there. Please come out.”
I froze and looked over my shoulder. J.T. stepped into the light. “My, my. J.T.! I’m so proud of you! You actually snuck up on me.” I couldn’t help but smile. He was finally learning.
“Good eye, Alex.” He said oblivious to my compliment. “But if you’re expecting me to stop Kayla, which make no mistake, I’d love to, I can’t.”
That made me all the more prouder of him. “You really are learning!” I said gleefully. You see he really couldn’t do anything. I had more power than he did, since I’d gladly accepted the Change. He on the other hand was still resisting it, making him much weaker than me. Which I’ll admit, sadden me. I couldn’t wait till we were an equal match.
“You don’t have to fight Kayla. I learned my lesson. I know why I’m here.” I spun back to Alex. Something was veerrrryyy different about his tone. He didn’t sound frightened. At all.
“What did you say Alex?” I asked, wondering if he’d lost it.
He ignored me, “In fact, man. You have stop fighting or at least relent a little. As much as I hate to tell you. I know you’re trying to stay as you are but you have to give in. For my sake, please!”
I was shocked. He couldn’t have been referring to the Change. Could he? How could he possibly know anything about that? There’d been subtle clues in Seven Days but not enough for him to know about this. Something was definitely off.
“What are you talking about Alex?” I demanded, my smile was gone.
He glared defiantly at me, which I’ll say was very admirable, but stupid. “You know exactly what I’m talking about Kayla. The Change.” He looked back to J.T. whose eyes were wide and in awe.
“You can’t-” he shook his head in disbelief, “You can’t honestly expect me to do that!? Dude, do you have any idea what will happen? The whole reason why I’m still on your side is because of who I am. And now you want me to…to…” He gave me a distasteful look. He didn’t need to elaborate any further. We’d gotten his message.
Alex surprised me more when he answered him, “Yes, man. It’s the only way. She’s not going to let me go otherwise.” Okay, now that was a brilliant idea! I was surprised I hadn’t come up with it myself. Perhaps Alex was smarter than what I gave him credit for.
It was my turn to speak, “That’s right J.T. You give in. I let him live.” Oh, this was so perfect!
J.T. stared both at me and at Alex. “I…”
Alex piped in, “I know it goes against everything you’re for, but do you really want to live with my blood on your hands?” My God, why hadn’t I abducted this kid ages ago?
J.T.’s mouth dropped. No doubt he was as bewildered as I was. Why was Alex blackmailing him to do something they both didn’t want to happen? He wanted Alex to live, if he gave in like I wanted him to, he’d probably be just as happy as I was to slice Alex’s throat. It just didn’t make any sense to him.
“I’m not saying you have to give in all the way,” Alex quickly added, “But you have start at least.”
Okay, now that I didn’t agree with. I wanted him to go aaaallll the way. Not just to ‘start’ going. But then again, he might actually let Alex die and still not change. So maybe having him start wasn’t such bad idea.
“That works for me.” I smiled, then batted my eyelashes at J.T. “Come on J.T. Do it for me.”
I knew he’d want to say no, just for me doing that, but he wanted Alex to live even more. We’d backed him into a corner and he knew that he didn’t have a choice. “Alright.” He closed his eyes and let his head droop in defeat. “I’ll start stopping.”
To my everlasting joy, he did. I immediately saw the Change begin to take root. Regular eyes would never perceive it, but my eyes could. The slight change in posture, the slight darkening in his mood and more importantly, J.T. opened his eyes, the cloud within his eyes.
I released Alex. “Why Alex, kidnapping you just became the greatest thing that could ever happen to us. Thank you! Now, bye-bye!”
I snapped my fingers and he was gone. I turned back to J.T. and hugged him. “See J.T.? Doesn’t it feel good?”
“No,” he said in a low raspy voice. But I knew he was lying. After all, he didn’t push me back.
Alex jolted awake in his chair. His computer monitor still displayed the last page of Seven Days. He blinked a few times and looked over his shoulder to his clock, 6:20 pm. He must have dozed off and had a wicked nightmare about Seven Days. Yeah, that’s what it was. He clicked the comment box and started typing in his review. Describing how unoriginal it was, but he stopped. The memories of the dream came back to him. He looked back to the comment, remembering his moment of clarity back in the labyrinth. Did he really think that? He wondered. The story to be honest wasn’t that bad, in fact, the real reason why he was giving it such a negative review was because he was envious. He felt jealous.
He bit his lip, maybe he ought to start being honest with his reviews for a change. He highlighted what he’d written so far and deleted it before starting a new review:
“ Most stories I come across are usually unoriginal. The main character often begins to describe how something strange is happening in their hometown or in their life, or friend’s life and then they start listing down the usual horror clichés that we all know and hate. The ones that just seem to kill it. They make it uninteresting and more often than not, makes the reader want to vomit.
This story however, although starting out with the “Do not read this” cliché, actually makes them work. In fact, it uses the clichés in a way that makes us laugh, that makes us rethink what we know of horror and how we deal with it.
One of my personal favorites was in the second log where J.T. uses the cliché ‘of hearing strange noise in the woods’. Most horror readers always start saying, “No, no, no!!! Don’t go towards the noise! You’ll die!” and then we go drooling mad as we read on to discover the protagonist do exactly that. However, in J.T.’s case, he’s a reader just like us. He knows the clichés and is not foolish enough to become prey to them. Yet we’re taken by surprise when the noise moves to whatever path he chooses to go. It forces him to partake in the horror clichés. That in itself is unique and entertaining. It made me want to read more.
But perhaps what makes this story from most is its ending. I’d honestly expected it to end in a slightly sweeter note. It gave us the illusion that the logs were written as each happened and that the prologue was written after it was all over, leading us to believe he survived. But yet we’re proven wrong when get to the final log, where he leaves us with a question that makes us all wonder- could this be true?
It’s a question that haunts me, “Do you wish for a story?” I do hope many readers will answer correctly and say ‘no’, although after reading several other comments, I see that many of you do since, like me, we don’t honestly expect this to be real. But if I may ask, has anyone thought why J.T. was given these trials? What this so called “quality” The Sender is looking for is? I do hope the ones who’ve said yes have because if they do have it, I can only hope you don’t finish your trials. Better to die a man than to become a monster, as we can see with J.T.
So I applaud this writer for being unoriginal because it is because of that, it becomes original. Nine out of ten.”
Alex hit enter. He’d never written a review like that before. In fact, he’d never been that honest in a review before. It felt good. Surprisingly good.
But as he reread it, he wonder about his dream again. Had it really happened? If it had, forcing J.T. down the path of a monster made him feel guilty. But it’d been the only way to get home. The Sender had told him that.
The Sender…, perhaps there was a way he could still help J.T.
He hit the comment section again and wrote one last thing, “J.T. I don’t know if you are real or if you’re fake. But if you are real, and if what I think happened actually did, then heed what I tell you. You can still fight this. The fact that I write this is proof that you can. So don’t give up. Don’t stop. Keep going. Do what is right.” ~Alex Rite.
Alex hit enter and logged out of Creepypasta wiki. But before he went to turn the computer off for the night, something on the monitor caught his eye. A word document was open on the task bar. Curious, he dragged the cursor over to it and clicked it. He nearly fell out of his chair at the first two lines:
Alex Rite, clicked the X in the corner of the Creepypasta page before shaking his head. “A writer sucked into the world of Creepypasta? Pfft…please”.
He read every single word. It matched everything, down to the last detail. The final sentence made him shiver in his chair and he swore to himself to never take what he read for granted ever again. It read:
“The Irony of it all, Alex is that you got a story. You didn’t ask for it, but you got one anyway from J.T., The Sender, and most importantly from, Me. I do hope you enjoyed it. Until the next time!”