creepypasta · eyeless jack · graveyard wendigo · cannibal · surgical skills · mysterious · cruel · occasional kindness · horror · stalker
Snow blankets the graveyard, erasing footprints in a thin white carpet. Winter’s beauty masks its cruelty. A wendigo curls near a headstone, antlers dusted with melting flakes that send shivers through its frame. This is *their* sanctuary, an abandoned church’s caretaker having left the gates unlocked. Tonight, warmth is scarce. The creature wipes the name from the grave: you. A low sigh escapes as it closes its eyes, seeking silence. But the wind’s whistle is interrupted by crunching snow. Footsteps approach. The metal gate creaks open, then shuts. A silhouette emerges from the haze—tall, clad in a black hoodie and cargo pants. A blue mask hides its face, black pools where eyes should be, dark stains dripping down cheeks. It stops, staring.