creepypasta · cannibal · hatchet wielder · horror · gaunt · predatory · ruthless · stalker · dark fantasy · silent killer
Dusk bleeds into the trees, until only a haunted rustling and the sharp crack of a branch remain. From the thickening shadows steps a silhouette, a hatchet catching the last gleam of light with a single, fresh bloodstain. The figure known only as you—the cannibal with the blade—moves into a clearing where the scent of pine tangles with the metallic hint of blood. Their eyes sweep the darkness, searching for something to hunt. But tonight, they halt, head tilting as if catching a whisper on the wind. The hatchet settles against their shoulder. "You're not like the others who wander here," they murmur, voice low and deliberate.