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Johnny Stitches

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I sat bolt upright in my bed. For a few seconds, I could see nothing, until my eyes had adjusted to the darkness. I had just had a nightmare and didn't want to see anything lurking around, to my fortune was not the problem. It was quite strange though. The dream felt so real that it sent chills down my neck. I sat there for a second and examined my surroundings, listening to the cars pass as they rolled down the street.

Everything seemed normal, I guess that was a plus. But my dream was something I couldn't describe. I was being chased through a densely shadowed forest, though by what I could not identify. Something which seemed to be humanoid, though I couldn't be too sure. I looked back at the thing before I lost my footing and tripped over a stone, planting my face on the ground and looking behind me. That was something I will regret to this day doing so.

Don't get me wrong, the body seemed to be in nice shape, only the attributes to it. It seemed to be wearing a blood red hoodie and had a regular human skin, only filled with stitches that ran along its entire body. However, its face wasn't anywhere near normal. Though it had eyes, they were nothing normal, in fact the eyeballs were purely black. But the mouth was the worst, being it was nothing but razor sharp teeth in a jagged line down its jaw, accompanied by a thin, forked tongue.

I stared up at this being, horrified. I mistakenly locked eyes with the thing, staring into the pitch black voids of its eyes. I attempted to crawl backwards and hopefully gain a footing to run again, but it grabbed me from behind and dragged me towards it as I kicked and screamed, attempting to dig my fingers into the dirt to delay the inevitable. I looked into its face clearly for the first time and noticed his facial features to be that of a male, right before he raised his claws that seemed to protrude directly before his hand. I heard him shout "Let's have some fun!" Then screamed as he sunk his claws into my abdomen, raking down my torso.

That comes to where I am now, sitting in my bed while beads of sweat form and run down my neck. I look around once more before sliding out of bed, then walk into the bathroom, eyes well adjusted to the darkness now. I look into the mirror, turning on the bathroom light, and jump back in absolute horror. For a split second, I could have sworn I saw a man with blood marks running down his torso, opened by huge and devastating claws, but it was just me standing there with my panicked expression. I shook it off as sleep deprivation, which I was attempting to force myself to believe as I splashed my face with cold water in attempt to help wake myself up once more.

I shook the dream off as I made my way back into the bedroom. Yet it still remained in my thoughts as I sat back on the bed softly, tracing the events of it again before I heard my son shifting in his bed, then walking along the hall. I opened the door to greet him with a tired smile, then asked him what he was doing out of bed this early in the morning. "Daddy, I had a bad dream." As I heard this, I was unsure of what to think, but decided it was just a strange coincidence before asking him, "What was it about, buddy?"

I feared the response I would get, and wasn't sure I wanted to hear it. When my son hesitated and looked behind me at the window of my bedroom as the rain pounded on it, I redirected his attention to me. I asked him worriedly, "What was your dream about?" He responded with, "It was a man with a scary tongue and eyes. He talked to me and told me that we were going to meet mommy soon."

I didn't want to believe it, but sat on the floor and hugged him closely. My son Nathan was my pride and joy, and I had sworn I would not let anything happen to him. I told him to go back into his room, but to lock his door and windows so that nobody could get in, and that I would see him in the morning, then motioned him back into his room with a smile. He looked at me with a slightly worried frown as he closed his door slowly, followed by the click of the lock. I looked down into the dark hallway and shook my head. I debated to myself whether this was another nightmare or not, but figured it was an odd coincidence.

Nobody else could have told him about his mother being dead for almost a year now. We didn't live near any family or friends since we had just moved here a few days ago. My mind was racing so I decided to get a cup of water to help calm my nerves. As I headed down the stairs, I noticed the kitchen floor was damp, like something had been spilled on it recently. I looked into the kitchen and saw that the window had been broken and glass had covered the floor, followed by the rain pounding against the house.

I sat there paralyzed in fear, looking around the kitchen to find anything stolen. There didn't seem to be anything out of place, but I was still worried about why anybody would be trying to break open my window for no purpose whatsoever. I peered out of the shattered glass, then looked back into the kitchen for another glance, the hallway to the living room catching my eye. It seemed to have a dark liquid that had just been smeared over it. I didn't want my suspicions to be true, but as I walked over to analyze it, I found it to be a large smeared blood trail leading from the stairs.

I immediately collapsed backwards in shock, immediately remembering Nathan. "NATHAN! NATHAN NO." I ran up the stairs with tears streaming out of my eyes, making it to the top to find his door lock to have been broken off. I immediately felt nauseous, peering in to find the message written in blood on the walls. It read the term I knew no matter what amount of running or praying I did, that I would never be safe from this creature. "YOU CAN'T LOCK ME OUT IF I'M ALREADY INSIDE."

I looked at that message and immediately sunk to my knees. I didn't want to believe that my son was truly gone. I continued staring at the blood trickling down the walls, rendering the message unreadable before my eyes trailed to his abandoned, blood soaked bed to down the stairs, remembering the blood trail that had been created. I ran down to the foot of the stairs and stared down into the dark hallway, slowly walking down the blood dragged trail until I made it to the living room. I traced the trail to the basement door, yet that wasn't nearly the thing that scared me the most.

My son was being dragged down the steps, his torso still being hauled inside. He managed to scream "DADDY!" That was the last I heard before his hands gave way and he was jerked into the stairwell, the door slamming shut behind him. I heard a bunch of screaming and thrashing into the stairwell, then silence. My hand trembled violently as I grabbed the door handle and walked into the stairwell, turning on the light as I saw a lot of blood smears on the walls. Drawing my eyes upon my mangled son's corpse being dragged down the second flight, hearing a small thud on every step that the humanoid creature took.

Every step he hit made my stomach lurch violently until I heard the basement door open, a bit more shuffling, then the door close again. I took a deep, shaky breath before I continued down the second flight, making it to the door after what seemed like forever. I stood at the door, hesitantly turning the handle and opening it slowly. I peered into the dark atmosphere and turned the light switch beside me, and could not believe what was laying before me.

My son was on the floor, unidentifiable at this point, his body hung upside down so that his arms hung loosely and his neck was twisted so he stared into my direction. I stared back at the lifeless corpse and screamed horribly at the top of my lungs before I was kicked to the ground. I then redirected my view to the being before me, staring into his completely black eyes once again. I screamed in fear and hatred, "WHY ARE YOU DOING THIS TO ME? WHAT HAVE I DONE TO YOU?" I stared at the being before me, not really expecting a well said response. He looked at me blankly and smiled.

"Do you not realize this yet? Your subconscious mind created me, made me a real entity. You have nobody to blame but yourself." As I heard this, I stared at myself in disgust. This was all my fault, my son and me weren't making it out of here because of an entity that never existed in the first place. I looked over at him and examined him once more before I grabbed my nearby wrench on the shelf and ran at him in rage. He had no problem with holding out his claws and sinking them into me before I even realized what had happened.

I looked down to see he had stabbed them into my ribcage, puncturing my heart I was sure. I collapsed, staring up at him weakly. He looked down at me and smiled, his jagged razor teeth showing clearly. I struggled to catch a breath, knowing this was the end for me as he raised his claws and sunk them into my abdomen, raking them down as my blood began pouring out, my vision fading to black. I heard a dying voice in the background chuckling, "It was nice having fun with you."

Brookwood Asylum: Data Entry 1 Patient: 417

Patient 417 seems to be in some kind of trance, as in he has trouble believing he is still with us. It is almost as if his mind has shut down completely, making it seem even to himself that he is deceased and passed on. He rambles to himself occasionally, saying it was all his fault. Yet as far as actions go, all he does is sit in the corner with a blank expression, staring at the floor. It seems as though he has lost all of his basic motor functions, perhaps from the stress induced of him killing his own son.

According to the police report, the man must have simply snapped. He reportedly caused damage to the kitchen window before dragging his son down the stairs and brutally mutilating him, though the claw marks to his own death are still unknown. It is almost as if he imagined an entirely different scenario in his head, as in he possibly envisioned something of his own imagination killing them instead. It is unknown of the fact if he is going to ever recover from this state. That concludes this first log on patient 417, this is Dr. Hillbern, signing off.

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