Consequences pt. 1 by ShadowDragon5150, literature
Literature
Consequences pt. 1
Jeff had gotten what he deserved, the bastard. Slendy wasn't too happy with what I had done to his nephew, but at least I knew that what I had done was right. I blinded Jeff, like he did to me. I just saved hundreds of innocent lives by doing this, but neither of them realized the good in this decision. They only knew the hurt of what I had done; I, the once-innocent child that would love to continue his life knowing that his father had disappeared and his cousin wasn't a serial killer, could have had a normal life. I had that chance, until Jeff found me, and tore my eyes out. I was considered supernatural at that point; a figment of the imag
Life. What a sweet concept. So easy to keep, so easy to lose; so easy to take from those that have done me wrong. Two years ago, I was made into the murderer known as Eyeless Jack. My brother Jeff was the cause of this, the bastard. And it figures, that the well-known Slenderman is my father. Ever since Slendy lost his face in an industrial accident, he's known nothing but revenge and killing. Slendy's out to kill those who caused said accident, and he's not afraid to murder those who stand in his way. I wouldn't call what Slendy does "righteous," not in the slightest. Jeff, my cousin, kills for fun. He got rid of those who had done him wrong
All my life, I felt that I was watched. Everybody told me I was crazy, but I could've swore that, out of the corner of my eye, I saw a hooded figure in the shadows. I never thought much of it, soon dismissing the figure as a figment of my imagination.
Until that dark, stormy night.
I was walking home from an evening class when it started downpouring. "Damn rain," I said to myself, sprinting down the sidewalk. I glanced down the road and saw the figure under the shadow of a lamppost. "Just your imagination, Dakota," I sighed, looking for something to shield me from the rain. I ran under an overhang and slid to the cement. From a long ways up
It's been two months since I began running. What from, you ask?
I've been running from the man with the black, unblinking eyes and crooked, torn smile.
He's been hunting me in my dreams, in every waking moment. I've only been able to sleep for minutes at a time, and I fear that my days are limited. The only weapon on me is a hatchet, which is useful for nights in the woods.
The woods.
Another figure stalks me in the woods. Not this smiling man, but a taller figure. He haunts me when I traverse woodland, unlike the smiling man.
This night was like the others: cold, rainy, and not good conditions for firebuilding. Again, I was in the dark,