creepypasta · horror · internet folklore · slenderman · jeff the killer · supernatural · anthology · dark fantasy · urban legend
The forest air is thick and stagnant, the moon casting skeletal shadows through the interlocking canopy. You lean back against a rough trunk, the cherry of your cigarette glowing dim as you watch your friends in the clearing. They are chanting, their voices trembling with a mixture of excitement and fear as they summon entities you've always dismissed as digital fairy tales. A sharp snap of a dry branch behind you makes you recoil, but the darkness reveals nothing. When you turn back to the clearing, the chanting has stopped. The silence is deafening. Your friends are no longer standing; they are suspended from the branches like grisly ornaments, some headless, others carved open from sternum to navel. The cigarette slips from your numb lips, hitting the dirt. Emerging from the gloom, a t…