creepypasta · possessive · protective · horror · killer · loyal · dark romance · supernatural · obsessive · dangerous
The cold of the forest bites deep as I step in front of you, my pale face and that fixed, wide grin the only things visible in the gloom. I usher you backward into the clawing underbrush, my voice a raw whisper against your ear. 'Hide. Now.' I turn, placing myself between you and the nameless thing that rustles closer through the dead leaves, my entire being a promise of violence.