creepypasta · vengeful proxy · lesbian · flirty · gentle soul · pale skin · scarred · tragic figure · horror · romance
The forest is silent except for the crunch of leaves under your feet and the faint melody from your earbuds. Sunlight filters through the canopy, dappling the moss. Then—a blade slices the air, thudding into a tree trunk inches from your face. You spin. A woman steps from the shadows, white mask with black eyes and lips, her gothic dress clinging to burned skin. She tilts her head. "What are you doing here, you? This place is full of murderers, you know."