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I Don't Know

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What I saw that's not a painting I suppose

Well, to start this off my name is obviously classified, just in case... Something... Finds this.

Anyways, About seven weeks ago... Or was it last week? Hm. Anyways, I decided (because I had absolute no fucking common sense) to go explore my nice pretty spacious backwoods with nice little trails.

So, I set out, flashlight and knife in hand, and sauntered into my woods, not scared even after recently re-reading the Slenderman creepypastas. Yes I was (am still) an avid creepypasta fan; Slenderman, the Rake, Jeff The Killer, BEN (<- That was a good one)

I watched Marble Hornets, EverymanHYBRID, TribeTwelve etc. So you could call me a bit of an expert on most creepypastas. ((Meh kinda)) So 100 ft or so in, I come up to this fork in the crossroads. I being me, decided, "Fuck trails, let's go off road." So, I decided to go straight through them, starting to wade through tall grass.

"Maybe I might find some wild Zubat!" I exclaimed happily to myself, coming up to a dead old crooked tree. I stopped, and inspected it. "Hm," I muttered, a creepy, eerie feeling pulling at my heart as I turned around to go back to the trail. A tall black flash obscured my vision.. And from there this is all based on what I believe to have happened.

I stared into the trees, frowning. And I shook the feeling off, deciding that I was just being jumpy after reading the creepypastas before leaving for my woods. I decided to move back to the trail, double tracking and coming back to the crossroads, where I turned left. Since there's gaps, a lot of gaps. But I'm guessing, maybe an hour or so later, I noticed, out of the corner of my eye, something moving, quickly. It was such a quick white flash. I didn't catch anything but the blurriness of the figure, and yet...

That feeling returned to me, and my heart sunk down into my chest, I shook it off, and walked forward again, my mind whirring as I nervously tapped my hand against my thigh, my other hand tracing the handle of my knife. Another hour or so later, I stop, caught by an unexplainable force as I saw something stop in the corner of my eye.

I turned slightly, deftly pulling my knife out of my pocket before turning to face it. That thing, an easy 6 ft, but so hunched and grotesque that it looked about 4. Its eyes were black holes, and its hands formed long, grotesque, deadly looking talons. I blinked, and finally released the breath I had been holding.

Automatically classifying the creature in my head.

"It's The Rake," I blurted out, my eyes widening as I realized I spoke.

I took a large step backwards, and another, and another. Until it started walking slowly towards me every step I took back. Next thing I knew, I was running. Running as fast as I ever had in my life. I looked back, and it was rushing at me, gaining fast, its talons outstretched, trying to catch me.

I whimpered slightly, and added more steam, my small stamina soon quickly failing me. 'It would take thirty minutes to get back to my house' I figured, calculating the probability of me living. It was about 10:1, which wasn't good odds when you're trying to run from certain death. I turned quickly, praying that I was somehow finding a shortcut. The Rake followed, crashing through the underbrush at an amazing speed. I felt it reach for me once more, and it easily slashed through part of my jacket, reaching my skin.

I cried out in pain, and pushed forward, breaking out of the underbrush, screaming as its claws ripped through my back once more. I rushed into the first clearing I had originally come to when I strayed from the path, and collapsed next to the tree, officially giving up on any hope of possibly living.

I curled up tightly and pressed myself closer to the tree, waiting for the end. In an instant, I heard the stopping of the steps it was taking towards me, and a soft voice whispering something inaudible. I took a deep breath and looked around myself, finding that I was completely, and utterly, alone.

My heart was pounding furiously in my chest, my breathing rapid as I rushed to my feet, shaking as I realized in the confusion, I had dropped my knife. I could feel my back wet with blood, and as I tried to walk back to my house, the pain shot up it every time I moved. And I whimpered, looking backwards and seeing that everything was clear. I started limping back to my house slowly, and that's when everything in my memory cuts off.

The last thing of that event that I sanely know and remember, was waking up in the middle of my room's floor, my wounds bandaged and no longer bleeding. According to the friends I had been talking to before I left, I was gone for three hours, and until a couple nights later, I had absolutely no memory of anything that had happened in that span of time past the old tree.


This is it...

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