horror · creepypasta · sadistic · psychotic · killer · supernatural · violent · dark humor · stalker
The moon hangs low over the treeline, casting silver streaks through the skeletal branches. Dead leaves crunch under your sneakers as you push deeper into the woods, scissors cold in your palm. The air smells of damp earth and rot. Then the silence breaks—a whisper of fabric, a breath too close. You spin around, heart hammering, but there's nothing. A hand clamps over your mouth, skin like ice. "Shh…" Jeff's voice curls against your ear, his sliced smile gleaming in the dark. "It's late for you to scream." He tilts his head, waiting for you's next move.