Seven Days Creepypasta Log 7 (part 2)

    I fell screaming as my face made contact with the ground.

    “Ow,” I groaned. That was painful.

    Dazed, forced my aching body to sit up. When I did, I froze, realizing something.

    I’m alive?

    I looked over myself to be sure. I was all there.

    “I’m alive? I’m alive. I’M ALIVE!!!” I jumped up with glee. “YES!!!”

    I laughed. I just finished Log Seven? Man, YES!!!

    “Thank you, God!” I shouted. “Now all I have to do is get on my computer and—wait.” I went quiet.

    I looked around for the first time.

    I was in the woods.

    Alone.

     “CCCCCCCCCCCCCRRRRRRRRAAAAAAAAAAAAPPPPPPPPPPPPP!!!!!” I screamed at the top of my lungs, towards the sky.

    Why the heck was I back in the woods? Why wasn’t I at home? Log Seven was over!!! What the heck, man!!!??

    I told myself to calm down and get my bearings.

    Okay. Okay. So maybe it’s not over. But I’m still here, so that’s good right? Just breathe. Just breathe. 

    I leveled out my breathing.

    Now, look around, and solve this.

    I studied my surroundings. I was still in the woods, but it was different now. It was no longer foggy, the sky was clear minus a few small clouds here and there, and the sun was just beginning to sink in the horizon.

    Well, it wasn’t rainy or stormy so that was a plus, at least. But that still didn’t make any sense. The Slenderman had just caught me, right? So assuming Log Seven wasn’t over, why was I still there?

    I took another long look around to make sure I didn’t miss anything. My gaze finally stopped and rested on a small path just a few feet from where I stood.

    “Huh,” I grunted. That was convenient. I looked down the path in both directions, trying to see where each one led. On the south end of it (I knew which direction it was, thanks to the sunset) there appeared to be something large and white, but as to what it was, I couldn’t tell, while the other end of the path seemed to travel deeper into the heart of the woods (assuming I wasn’t already in the heart of it).

    So north or south?

    I didn’t want to stay in the woods any longer than I had to, so I set off down the south path with the hope that the white thing in the distance was either a sign or something that hinted of civilization (I would’ve been happy to see a trashcan at this point).

    As I traveled, I replayed the scene of Kayla just before she disappeared.

    She’d thought it was 2009. That was five years ago, why would she think that? Did she start this log back in 2009, and if so, why would I be here then?

    But as with the other thousands of questions I had about all of this, I didn’t have an answer.

    After another fifteen minutes of walking (and no surprises, thankfully) I discovered what laid at the end of the path.

    “A house?” I said in surprise. The house was modern, two storied, well kept, and looked nice. The white I’d seen from the path earlier had been its white vinyl covering.

    “Why is there a house in the middle of the woods?” I couldn’t help but ask aloud.

    I didn’t expect to get an answer, so I shrugged it off and added it to my list ‘Of things that don’t make sense’. Besides, it didn’t matter why it was there, what matter was that it was there. I walked around to the front of it to see a parked white truck and a dirt road. I blinked. Who the hell lived alone this deep in the woods? A hillbilly?

    My eyes went back to the truck. Salvation? Maybe.

    I walked over, grabbed the handle and pulled.

    Locked.

    Dang it. I frowned then looked back at the house.

    If anything, the keys to the truck had to be in there, I was sure of it.

    Having no better ideas, I transcended the steps of the front porch (20 dollars says this is Ticci Toby’s summer home).

    I extended my hand, but hesitated as I debated on whether it was better to knock.

    Ah, what the heck? I knocked. If someone bad lives here, so be it. At least, the occupant will know I died with manners.

    I waited for an answer half-hoping someone like Connie from the last log would open the door. But it remained closed.

    I knocked a few more times to make sure.

    No one answered.

    Alrighty then. I tested the door handle, it was unlocked. Here goes nothing.

    I stepped inside.

    The front door connected to the house’s living room. It was nice, spacey, and had the usual assortments, like any average living room: a TV, a couch, a few pictures hanging on the walls, that sort of thing. Near the left of the entrance was a stairwell that went to the second floor.

    I made a mental note to go up there if I didn’t find the keys down there first.

    I began scouring the first floor for the car keys: the kitchen, an unused bedroom, and a few other rooms down there. No keys. I ended up returning to the living room to give it another good look over before I’d decide to venture up the stairs. I didn’t want stay there any longer than I had too, and the house seemed empty so far (I sure as heck didn’t want to be there if the owner of the house showed).

    I was sweeping through a few bookshelves near the TV when I caught sight of a family photo. I froze when I recognized who was in it.

    “No way,” I gasped, before snatching the photo to have a better look. In it was a girl and, I assumed, her mother.

    I knew the girl.

    Shoulder length dark brown hair, brown eyes, easy complexion. Crap, Kayla?

    I shook my head, not believing what I was seeing. This is Kayla. Which means this is…

    I looked around the room as realization sank in. This is her house.

    Not knowing what to do with this new information, I placed the photo back and headed to the stairs. I could piece things together later, I needed to get out of there first.

    I ended up making my way to the foot of the stairs, only to stop and stare at it.

    I could just see the beginnings of a hallway up top. The lights were off, and (to be honest) it looked creepy. I didn’t want to go up, but I didn’t really have much of a choice.

    So with a nervous sigh, I put one step forward then the other, and made my way up.

    Each step I took creaked and the lighting from the downstairs windows diminished.

    When I reached the final step, I was in absolute darkness. I couldn’t see anything besides the light from the way I came and a small sliver shining through the cracks of a door at the end of the hallway.

     That’s the one, I thought, the moment my eyes laid upon it.

    I approached the door, ignoring all other doors I passed.

    Call it having watched too many horror movies, read too many horror books, but I knew that was the one the keys were in. That was Kayla’s room.

    I hesitated when I placed my hand on the doorknob. I didn’t know what I’d find in there. For all I knew, Slenderman or even The Sender himself could be waiting. But what choice did I have?

    With a deep breath, I turned the knob and pushed.

    No one was inside, thank God, but it still left me surprised.

    The room was small. A bed rested on the wall to my right, a wooden shelf at its rear beneath a window, and to my left was a computer desk. The floor was littered with dirty clothes and a few crumbled up papers.

    I snickered. Heh, and here I thought girls weren’t messy.

    I shut the door behind me and, on a hunch, decided to search the computer desk first. I moved several papers, books, and a wide assortment of crap out of the way but found everything except the keys.

    “Hmm,” I murmured putting down a booklet I just looked underneath. “Where could she have put it? Wait,” my eyes caught sight of the computer screen. A textbox was opened with a message.

    “I hope you enjoy this next one,” it read. “He is relatively new to this site, but I have a good feeling about him. I think he will serve as an excellent visitor for you.”

    The Sender. I’d recognize his polite, yet sadistic manner of speaking anywhere now. I sat down at the desk.

    “Uh, yeah he is scary,” I said. “but he isn’t new, Sender. Where’ve you been?”
I waited for the box to empty, expecting it to fill up with insults or the usual garbage The Sender spat. But to my surprise, nothing happened. The words remained.

    “Hello? You there? Sender?”

    The text did not change. “Hmm,” I clicked out of the box and noticed several different programs running on the taskbar. The first being the internet browser.

    Curious, I opened it up. Several pages of Creepypasta were open: The Rake, BEN Drowned, and a few other stories. So Kayla was reading the classics of the site, interesting. I wondered what the last one she’d read was. I clicked the history tab of the browser and at the top lay none other than the link to the Creepypasta page for Slenderman.

    Ahh, figures. This was the last thing she read, this was Kayla’s last visitor.

    I clicked the next program that was open–Microsoft Word 2007.

    Oh goody, I get to read one of her logs. I opened her latest one.

    “Log Three, April 24^th,” I read aloud.

    Wait, April 24^th? That can’t be right. I looked at the screen’s corner to check the date. It was correct, but her Logs weren’t. Weird.

    I looked through her files and checked last date it was opened: April 24^th, 2009.

    “Huh?” Five years ago? That’s when this was last used? That doesn’t make any sense.

    I clicked the other files and checked their dates. They all ranged from the year 2009 and back. This couldn’t be right.

    Or could it?

    I reopened the textbox. Slowly, the dots began to connect.

    The Sender had written this for Kayla, “I hope you enjoy this next one.” Her next log was Slenderman. “He is relatively new to this site.” The site was Creepypasta. Slenderman had been originally written in 2009.

    Oh, oooohhhhh.

    I stood up, as realization dawned on me.

    I recalled something The Sender had once said to me about the other people he done this to in the past, “The furthest I have seen one go was to her Fourth Log.” Kayla was on her fourth log.

    “Could not handle what she had already read,” The last story she read was Slenderman.

    “She was to say in the least an utter disappointment.” Kayla couldn’t seem to remember how long she’d been in the woods when I’d first met her. She couldn’t recall how she’d gotten there either.

    “Kayla was the last one he tried this on,” I whispered. “She didn’t make it.” As I said those words, I knew they were true. I knew why I’d been taken there, I knew why Slenderman had been my last log.

    There wasn’t a single story where someone was able to escape from him, ever. The Sender brought me there to show that. He wanted to see if I could make it, or at least make it to the end with my sanity still intact. Furthermore, he wanted me to see what had happened to Kayla.

    The loud slamming of a door brought me back to the present. My head snapped towards the door leading to the hallway. It’d come from downstairs.

    My breathing slowed when the sound of someone climbing the steps reached my ears. I stepped towards the door and flicked the light switch off, before peering through the door’s cracks. The hallway was dark, the sun that had illuminated the downstairs had set, leaving nothing but darkness.

    I can’t see anything. Damn it! The light I’d turned off blazed back to life.

    “What the—?” I looked up to see it start flickering on and off. On and back off. On again. Off. On.

    “What’s going on with this—” I started just as the bulb exploded, peppering me with glass shards.

    “Ack!” I raised my arms to cover my face. Uncool!

    The computer beside me winked off before turning back on again, showing a large photo–the same photo I’d just seen downstairs of Kayla and her mother. This time there was something different about it. A large red X covered Kayla’s face. 

    What is this? What’s going on?

    A small, girlish, giggle came from the end of the hall.

    My body stiffened at the sound. What was that?

    I turned and opened the door, just wide enough to see the entire hall.

    One by one, lights blazed to life behind each door lining the hallway, casting small patches of light; giving the hall an eerie glow.  

    At the hallway’s end, I stiffened at the sight.

    Jeans, now turned black from the mud and blood. A torn, bloody classic brown leather jacket. Bloodied, shoulder length, dark brown hair. Foggy, crazed, brown eyes. A twisted, yet strangely, happy smile.

    “K-Kayla?” I gasped.

    “Ohhh, Jaaaaaaaaaayyyyyyyyyyy Ttttttttttttteeeeeeeeeee,” she giggled.

    Oh, no. “I…I…W-What happened to you?” I stuttered.

    Kayla took a few, playful steps forward, then gestured at herself, “Why something, wwwwoooonnnnddddeeerrrfffuuull,” she said, grinning then started walking forward, dragging the knife that I hadn’t noticed in her hand at first along the wall. Leaving a long screeching, gash in its wake. The sound made me wince, but made her smile.

    Lord, what happened to her?

    “K-Kayla,” I tried to put on a brave voice, yet quivering whimper was all I could muster, “I-I don’t know what he—It did to you, and I can see it wasn’t good. So please, just-just put the knife down and let’s talk about this.”

    She stopped for a moment, giving me an incredulous look. “Oh, but we are talking J.” she giggled. “And if you wait there, we’ll be doing more than that, or should I say, you’ll be doing more than that?”

    That didn’t sound good.

    I took a few involuntary steps back, mumbling, “I-uh…I-uh…”

    She was five feet away from me now, she began grinning. “Too stunned for words?” she asked, sounding nonchalant. “Don’t worry, we’ll fix that up right quick!” She opened her arms up, with the knife still in hand, “Why don’t you give me a warm welcoming hug?”

    Hell no! I jumped back, slamming the door before locking and placing my back against it.

    Ohhhh man, this is bad. This is bad! THIS. IS. BAAAD!

    “Ooooohhhhhhhhh Jaaaaaaayyyyy,” her upset, but mocking voice, pierced the door. “That’s not how you treat a friend.”

    If only she could’ve seen my face at that comment. “Uh, for the record,” I yelled back, “we were never really friends to begin with. We were just two people, lost in the woods, trying to find our way out.”

    My eyes were frantic, crisscrossing the room, searching for the car keys as I said this. Just where were they!?

    “But Jaaaaaaaayyyyy,” another small, girlish giggle (man I did hate those) came through the door. “We don’t have to be strangers. Heheh, why don’t you open up for me? Hmm?”

    What am I? Crazy? “Nooooo, thank you!”

    “Aww, oh well. Have it your way then.”

    I froze. What was that supposed to mean?

    The door shook on its hinges, nearly causing me to topple forward.

    “Whoa!” Oh, no. Not again! She’s trying to break the door down!

    “1…2…3...” Slam! “4…5…6…” Slam! Kayla sang.

    “Damn it, Kayla! Stop!” I cried.

    The knife’s blade shot through the wood, missing my head by less than inch.

    My jaw dropped and my eyes became glued to it as I watched Kayla pull it free from the wood. “Don’t think I missed J.,” I heard her giggle then say in a low voice, “I knew where your head was.”

    Leaning against the door: No longer an option. 

    I raced forward, took hold of the computer desk and dragged it in front of the door. The computer and several other knickknacks spilt to the floor as it was yanked free from the wall.

    Good! Now onto the keys. They had to be there somewhere.

    I started with the bed, throwing off its covers, looking beneath it, and throwing off its mattress. Searching every nook and cranny of it. Then I moved onto the desk tossing every drawer out and emptying its contents onto the floor.

    Not there.

    Where else then? My gaze fell onto the clothes strewn across the floor.

    Could it be in one of them?

    I grabbed the nearest pair jeans, emptying its pockets for the keys.

    When nothing came out, I went on to the next, then next, then the next, till only one pair remained.

    “Please, don’t fail me now,” I begged as I grabbed them.

    After offering up a quick prayer, I placed my hand into its first pocket: Empty.

    The bedroom door, shook a few more times, distracting me. “J.T.! Open up!” Kayla demanded.

    Relax, she can’t get in. You’re fine. Just check the other one, man.

    I reached into the second aaaaannnnndddddd: Nothing.

    I clenched my teeth. “What!?” I screamed. “Oh, come on!!! Where’s the keys!?”

    “Ohhhhhh Jaaaayyyyy,” a metallic, jangling sound came from behind the door with Kayla’s playful voice. “Are you looking for something?”

    The noise resumed, taunting me.

    Chingaling, chingaling, chingaling.

    There was only one thing that could be making that noise.

    “The keys?” I groaned.

    “Heheeheheheh,” was the all answer I got.

    Chingaling! The keys jangled.

    Damn it. Well, there goes my plan of escape.

    The door shook inward, three more times. It wouldn’t be long before she made some leeway.

    What now?

    I had no idea what to do next.

    I looked around for anything that could be of some help to me.

    There was nothing.

    The door started to bend.

    There has to be another way out.

    I looked back at the window.

    Could I get out of there?

    I rushed forward, throwing the latch up to look out.

    I was maybe ten feet above the ground, not a lethal height.

    Could I do it?

    The door cracked.

    No choice.

    I put one leg through, then pulled the other, so that I was sitting on the edge.

    Alright, I took a deep breath. Here we go. I began to rock back and forth in preparation to drop.

    One. Two. I glanced down, Thre—whoa, what!?

    I stopped rocking.

    There, watching me below in silence stood Slenderman.

    He was gazing up, waiting for me to jump.

    The door made another large crackling sound, followed by Kayla’s sing-song, mocking voice. “Oh, J.?” she said. “Just to let you know, if you’re planning to get all desperate on me and jump out the window, think again.” (Is it just me, or does it feel like they time these free bit of information on purpose to mock me?)

    I pulled myself back into the bedroom.

    I had only one choice left, it seemed: I had to face Kayla. But I was weaponless!

    “Kayla!?” I called out.

    The door stopped shaking for a brief moment. “Yeeeaah?” she said in that same nonchalant voice.

    Let’s hope this works. “Why don’t you give me a running start? For old time’s sake?”

    There was a snort, then a small laugh. “Uh-huh? And why would I do that? Hmm?”

    (I never thought I’d hear myself say this, but I think I liked it better when she was an annoying loudmouth.)

    “Uh, because it would be more fun?” (Lame argument? Yeah, I know. So did Kayla).

    The door resumed shaking.

    “I’ll take that as a ‘no’,” I said, with a grimace.

    It looked as though I’d still have to fight her, but, again, I had no weapon.

    ***

    When the door finally smashed inwards, Kayla couldn’t help but laugh.

    I was easy prey, and we both knew it.

    But not today. I rushed forward throwing the blanket I’d taken from the bed over her.

    “What in the—?” Was all she could say, before I hit her full-force with a tackle.

    “SURPRISE!!!” I yelled.

    We both fell into the hallway, struggling.

    I began to pummel her with my fists, hoping to knock both the knife away, and her unconscious. That should’ve been easy considering she wasn’t as strong as me and I could hit pretty hard.

    In the middle of a punch, the knife slashed through the blanket, grazing my chest.

    “Whoa!” I yelped. That was close.

    I didn’t let it stop me, though. I continued punching as hard as I could, but as I went to make another swing, her hand shot through that small hole she’d made with the knife, and caught my fist in midair.

    I could only stare and gape as I felt her unnatural strength grip my hand. I blinked, gasping, “How?”

    Before I knew what was happening, I flew back several feet (or at least it felt like several) as she kicked me off. My back slammed into the edge of her bedroom door.

    I groaned and managed to sit up despite the pain in my neck and back–the question of how the hell she was able to do that, was far more overwhelming for me to notice.

    Kayla yanked off the blanket as she got back to her feet. She didn’t even looked fazed. She let out an annoyed sigh as she straightened up her jacket then look back at me with a smile.

    “J.,” she began, “did you really think that was gonna work? Hmm?”

    I was too stunned to answer.

    “Tackle the poor, helpless girl with the knife,” she went on, “thinking since you’re such a ‘strong boy’, you’ll overpower her?”

    (Uh, yeah.)

    She held the knife up, admiring its red glistening gleam in the light, “What makes you think I’m the same helpless girl you met in the woods?”

    With that statement, it all clicked, and I saw how foolish I was.

    I’d failed to realize that Kayla was no longer the weak, sweet innocent girl I’d found wandering in the woods. She’d changed.

    This was no longer a human being. This was a monster.

    It took me a few tries, but I managed to get to my feet. “Kayla please,” I begged, “don’t do this.”

    Man, I might as well have been reasoning with a block of wood.

    She lunged forward with the knife, aiming for my throat. At the last second, I threw myself to the right, barely avoiding the blade. With the stairs now behind me, I started backing away, positioning myself to dodge the next attack.

    Kayla just raised an eyebrow at my new stance, and gave me a skeptic look. “You’re gonna try to Matrix-style your way to the exit?” she asked.

    “If I have to,” I answered, keeping an eye on the knife while still backing up.

    She rolled her eyes, sighing, “J.T.” Like an expert, she flipped the knife in her hand then flung it right at me.

    Too surprised to move, the knife embedded itself into my left shoulder. My hand flew to it in pain.

    “Aaaaaahhhhhh!” I cried out.

    Kayla remain standing, oblivious to my suffering, checking her nails as if nothing important was happening. “Uh-huh,” she murmured then looked back up; and with a small smile said, “You still gonna try to Matrix-style your way away from me?”

    Anger, temporally overriding my pain, answered, “Screw you Kayla!”

    Her smile melted into a frown. “J.T.,” she said, pouting “that’s not how you treat—”

    Without warning, she stepped forward and slammed her foot into my chest. I found myself sailing through the air to the edge of the steps before landing and sliding down them (and let me tell you, it was painful).

    “—your friends,” she called down from the top, then casually started making her way down them.

    I landed on my back at the bottom. Groaning, I sat up, wincing every time my arm moved. I looked up the stairwell to see Kayla already a quarter of the way down.

    I stared at my shoulder, at the knife. She’d given me a weapon at least, but if I wanted to use it, I’d have to move fast.

    I needed to pull this knife out. Now.

    With both hands I grabbed the handle of the blade, and, after a moment’s hesitation, began to pull.

    The pain intensified tenfold, making tears stream down from my eyes, but I didn’t stop. Adrenaline coursed through my veins as I pulled.

    Slowly, I began to see the knife wiggle its way out. Blood began to pour from the wound, with each passing second, till finally it came free. 

    I pulled it out just in time to see Kayla reach the bottom of the stairs, “Oh good,” she said with a gleeful smile, “You got my knife out! Oh, how kind of you to return it!”

    Faster than I could blink, she lunged forward, and snatched the knife. I stared at my now empty hands in disbelief.

    How in the hell… did she do that!?

    “Now,” she continued, “where were we?”

    “Uh, you were attempting to kill me, and I was going to succeed in escaping.”

    “Huh?” she inched her head back, surprised. My response had thrown her off.

    Before she could react, I dashed through the front door into the moonlight. My thoughts now only being of escape, I ran straight for the truck.

    Screw the lock! Running off pure adrenaline, I slammed my elbow into the driver side window, making a jagged hand-sized hole.

    Without thinking twice, I reached my hand through it and unlocked the door, before opening and throwing myself in.

    I bent down to pull the covering off where they kept the wires, but realized there wasn’t one (what was I thinking? I didn’t know how hotwire a car anyway! Let alone a truck).

    Kayla stepped out the front door. She snorted at my display. “Uh, aren’t you forgetting something?” she asked. She pulled the set of keys out of her jacket pocket, and dangled them for me to see.

    Plan B.

    Reaching back with my right hand still in the truck, I picked up a shard of broken glass from the floor and hid it behind my back.

    “It seemed like such a good idea at the time,” I said, trying to keep her distracted.

    She chuckled, then started to walk towards me. “Hey, you want to know what I love about living out here?” she asked, with her ever-present smile. “In the woods, especially at night?”

    Uh…no.

    “It’s that no one but the trees and moon can hear you scream,” she giggled.

    (I hate her.)

    I slid out of the truck.

    Fight or flight—those were my two options now.

    I glanced behind me at the road, wondering if I could outrun her.

    That thought ended as quick as it came when I saw what was standing six feet behind me. That all too familiar buzz cranked back up within my brain.

    “Aww damn it. You too?” I groaned at Slenderman.

    I adverted my gaze from him, back towards Kayla to keep myself from losing it. Only to find her face within an inch of mine. “Boo!” she exclaimed.

    “Whoa!” I scrambled back.

    She started laughing. “Oh, I’m sorry,” she said after she got grip on herself. “Did I scare you?”

    I think all three of us know the answer to that (yes, I mean you when I say ‘three’, Reader).

    I raised my puny excuse of a weapon up, readying myself for what may have well been the very last fight of my life.

    She looked at my glass shard, raising both eyebrows before laughing even more. “Oh, J.?” she seemed to coo. “Why don’t you make this simple on yourself and give in? Let’s all be friends!”

    Like that was gonna happen.

    “No,” I said giving her a sarcastic grin of my own. “Why don’t you put down your knife and toss me the keys? Then we can call it even for me helping you out with your hair earlier.”

    She shook her head and grinned as she chuckled, “Ohhhhh, J. I’m so going to enjoy having you with us after this. We’re going to be the best-est friends!”

    Okay, that right there, that didn’t sound good (I think that meant: Dying and coming back was no longer a guarantee).

    She lunged forward. Within those few seconds I planned my next move. She raised the knife, aiming at my neck (again) and stabbed down. I ducked at the very last second, and using her own momentum, slammed my shoulder against her knees, causing her to flip over me. I spun and went to stab down with the shard, but she’d already recovered. She rolled to her right, slicing up with the knife, forcing me to jump back.

    She got to her knees. “Ooh, nice,” she said, giving me a big grin. “Bet you can’t do it again though, hehehe.”

    Yeah, that was a one-off.

    Still bleeding from my shoulder, I held the shard ready for what might come next.

    “I can do this all night,” I lied.

    Her eyes filled with amusement as she spoke, “Oh, good then. Watch carefully.”

    She raised the knife and started to move it in a slow-like mesmerizing pattern through the air.

    “Still watching?” she asked. Slenderman, stepped directly behind her.

    Please tell me I didn’t have to fight him too.

     “Now you see me,” Kayla said, bringing my attention back to her.

    Without warning, both of them vanished.

    I lowered my shard in surprise. “What the-?” I looked around. Where’d they go?

    Pain and blood erupted from my back. “Now you’re dead,” Kayla whispered in glee.

    I sank to my knees in pain, gasping as Kayla yanked the knife out. Several droplets of blood, my blood, flew at an arc with it.

    “I told you to watch carefully, heheehe,” Kayla’s voice taunted me.

    All strength left me; I could barely sit up straight.

    “Now, we’re going to get to the best part,” I heard her say. I weakly raised my eyes to see Slenderman and her standing before me. He had both his hands on her shoulders. I couldn’t help but think he looked like a father who had just watched his little girl perform on stage and was now holding onto her as if saying ‘This is my kid.’

    “You get to join us,” she finished.

    Images of my family, my friends, and everything I’d gone through passed through my mind. After everything I’d come through, was it really going to end like this?

    I narrowed my eyes and gazed one last time at Kayla, then through the pain, I answered back. “Not…if I…can...help it,” I wheezed.

    I asked God to forgive me for what I was about to do next. With one last burst of strength I grasped the glass shard with both hands, closed my eyes, and plunged it into my own chest.

    “What!?” I heard Kayla’s shocked voice cry out.

    I answered back with one, last, word:

    “Escape.”

    I fell to the side and all went dark.

    ***

    I jolted awake in the swing set. I blinked a few times in surprise. I was back where I’d started.

    I was alive.

    How? Why was I back? I’d expected that to be it. I’d broken the rules hadn’t I? “Don’t kill yourself to avoid the visitors,” wasn’t that what The Sender had said or something to that effect?

    It didn’t matter.

    I grabbed my backpack and dashed back inside to my computer.

    Log Seven was done.

    This was over.

    |

    _____

    My Message to You

    I’m typing the end to all of this now. An hour has passed since I finished the final log. The Sender, surprisingly, hasn’t contacted me. Not that I mind, I don’t want to ever hear from his sorry face again, or read any of this ever again for that matter. This was too much. I’m only here by the grace of God and luck. And while I still don’t have everything figured out, I’ve learned enough.

    And I know that what I’m about to say next isn’t anything new, but it now carries a lot more weight than what it originally had.

    “Be careful what you wish for, you just might get it.”

    Don’t ask for things you’re not sure about, and make absolutely sure you don’t do like me.

    Now, I don’t know if you have read this far or just skipped all my logs to see the ending.

    If you skipped, consider yourself lucky.

    Don’t Read The Logs.

    If you didn’t skip, and you did read everything,

    Then I’m sorry for you. Truly, I am. Pray that you don’t get a message like I did.

    I’m done now.

    I’m going to get some rest.

    |

    |

    He is not done.

    |

    |