All Against One

They say losing your mind is the end of hope for a normal life... 'Normal' is a very broad word that I myself find distasteful. Who am I you must be wondering as you read this, well for a short time I guess you could call me a, um... creepypasta, yeah, a lesser known one called Psych-E. You won't find me on that wiki though as I don't exist anymore; obsession and hidden drives led to my disappearance as all I want is a normal that so wrong? Perhaps however, an even more troubling notion on my mind exists, and that is simply, am I the only one?


6. The Underground Hostility

   It wasn't as secure down here as I thought it would be. Yes it was empty, and sparsely lit by the occasional strip light in the tunnel roof, but the DayGlo spray paint turning the dust-coated light fitting a vivid turquoise was not a good sign. If bored youths could get this far down the train tunnel and leave their marks, it would be too easy for an accomplished pair of killers - both back for round two - to get down here and find me balancing on one of the rails, avoiding the rat shit and whatever else is down here.

   Perhaps I'd made a mistake by directly starting to turn Laughing Jack into a ragdoll. I could have just given him a hard shove first, instead of making the stitches start running up his arm. I can forgive myself for doing it to Jeff though, as he put his knife to my throat. If I hadn't have done it... fuck, I don't even like the idea of thinking about that.

  There was something wet dripping onto the metal track in front of me, but I didn't have the faintest clue how far ahead. There was probably some sort of leak up ahead, or rainwater from the earlier shower still being carried down to the tunnel entrance. Who knows, the entrance could be really damn close, and then I'd be out in the open again. Exposed and their bones before I covered them up, forcing the needle in and out of their remaining flesh...

  Shuddering, I poked myself hard in my thumb with my needle, teasing out a drop of blood and a stab of pain. At least it silenced the thoughts I'd been nursing, meaning there was a benefit to stabbing myself hard in the thumb. It may have been a small benefit, but it was there.

  I knew I couldn't keep hiding down in these underground railway systems forever. The earliest one coming down the Bakerloo line was at four fifty-one in the morning, from Paddington. I didn't have the faintest shred of an idea what the time was, only that it wouldn't take that long for it to get to Embankment. Less than an hour, if that.

  I had to get out of the underground. It was closed off, private, and dark enough for me to hide in, but it wasn't safe. I had to find somewhere better to hide, and quick. I had angered two experienced killers, that I'd bet were eager for round two once they'd pulled the stitches out of themselves, and the southern Bakerloo line was due to be up and active very soon. Shakily, with my arms out to stabilise myself, I carefully picked my way down the metal track down towards the dripping sound that I'd guess was coming from the tunnel entrance. It was my best shot at getting out safely, as I had a gut feeling some of the other pastas could have followed me down the line. Running right into Eyeless Jack, Ticci-Toby, or even Slender himself was certainly not an option.

   My footsteps pierced the silence in the arched tunnel, clanging very loudly against the steel rail, as I tried to run without slipping off. The tracks down here were probably covered with all sorts of things: rat shit, dead and alive rats, tiny oil spills, all sorts of animals that made their way down here and died, trash blown in from the streets, and fuck-knows what else is down here, decomposing and looking to splatter up my legs.

   The tunnel was appearing to widen out a bit, as I could feel the slippery wall of the tunnel was starting to creep away from my left hand. Odd...wouldn't the walls stay parallel? I must be rapidly approaching the tunnel opening then, though it's dark as pitch. This was not making any sense at all. Why was it widening, when I knew I was still balancing on the railway track?

   "Two can play a trick, dear girl, though mine does work with deciet. You forgot the key point of balance, my dear..." A mocking, sing-song voice rang out behind me, echoing on the stone walls of the tunnel, before what felt like the steel track lifted up from underneath me, and I was thrown onto my back on the stone by the tunnel wall, and a dead weight landed on my knees. Judging by the panicked squeaking, I'd disturbed a rat with my rough landing, and was probably getting covered in all sorts.

   "Watch where you put your feet." The voice added, tilting my chin to look up. My head felt a little fuzzy from my landing, but on the tracks, I could see what looked like a long, narrow sheet of metal, about half a centimetre thick. It looked like it would have sat perfectly atop the railway track I was balancing o- Wait a minute! If that...sneaky motherfucker, that Laughing Jack. He's a lot smarter, a lot faster, and a lot more determined than I gave him credit for.

   "Looks like I didn't do enough to get my message across then." I replied, as Laughing Jack knelt atop me, pinning my shoulders to the slippery, slimy-feeling tunnel wall, and pinning my knees to the rat shit-covered gravel. "I. Am. Not. Interested."

   "A mere pinprick in the hand isn't gonna do much, even with your nifty trick, doll fac- Uh uh, I don't think so." He replied, catching my wrists as he saw me reaching into my pockets, pinning them hard against the cold stone. "No more running stitch from you, doll face. That was a bugger and a half to get out. Jeff's still fuming about your little sartorial attack."

   My hands still pinned to the wall, I glanced up, and tried hiding a giggle. His long sleeves had fallen down a bit, and I could see something pretty distinctive on his right arm, running up into his sleeve. It looked like a series of deep puncture marks, no bigger than a pinhead, with some linked by tiny slashes. Looks like he'd alternated between cutting out and ripping out the stitches I'd put in his arm. "He better be. Fuckhead put a knife to my neck." I replied, trying really damn hard not to laugh at seeing the effect of my handiwork. If this was what my stitches had done to Laughing Jack's arm, what had they done to Jeff's neck and face?

   "Only as you refused to listen. Now you have no choice, so will you be a doll and give us a chance? We tried the easy way, so now we gotta do this the hard way. Any questions?" Laughing Jack asked, noticing me looking and baring his pointed teeth.

   "Just one. As you're due a hard kick in the bollocks once this is over, would you rather you land on the tracks, or in the rat crap?" I snapped, baring my aggravatingly-blunt teeth and making the thread cut in more.

   "You are so fucking childish, Donna. Me and Jeff aren't the only ones out looking for you. Be lucky we're the ones who found you first. The Manor of the Slenderman is far preferable to anywhere else in the Under Realm." Laughing Jack snapped, leaning in closer, clearly in an attempt to intimidate me. "There's someone out there who knows of your presence, and is very intrigued by it. 'He' and his henchmen could be anywhere, doll face."

   What the fuck was he on about? "You're trying to scare me, aren't you? Trying to scare me into going with you to this bloody Manor by saying that others 'could be anywhere'. Pfft, bullshit. Trying to scare me by saying someone's intrigued by my presence is about as effective as a hobbit in a basketball final."

   "If I was trying to scare you I'd have done it by now. I'm telling the truth, Donna!" He snapped, pinching my jaw with his free hand, and forcing me to look him in the eye. The tip of his nose touched mine as he forced me to look, baring his teeth. "Have you ever thought of how we live in this world? How the humans know nothing about us? There's order keeping us living apart in the same world, in practical harmony. Well tell me, what's the opposite of order?"

   I said nothing, trying to stare him out, but it wasn't going very well. "Are you that empty-skulled that you have to ask me?" I retorted, earning me a harder pinch on the jaw.

   "You're lucky I'm taking the time to help you here, doll face. Well, let me complete this for you. The opposite of order is chaos. Pure, unbridled, chaos. Humans knowing of our presence, free kills, true horror, and every single pasta - you included - under the control of one entity, who knows you exist, and like I said, is very intrigued by your presence."

   Laughing Jack let go of my jaw then, but still kept a tight hold on my wrists. "He's the only one on a par with Slender, yet his opposing force. You ever heard of any of us like that?"

   I didn't have to say a word for him to guess I did. The scourge...Zalgo. If he was after me...well bring it on. "What makes you think I should trust you? You haven't given me a good reason to trust you so far."

   "Were you this stubborn as a human, or is it just the arrogance of power?" He growled lethally, but relucantly let go of my wrists. "You haven't got any choice. Either you trust me and let me bring you to the manor, or I drag you there." He scowled, getting off my legs and pulling me to my feet. "Make your choice quick."

   Oh he's gonna play that game, is he? Well then...two can play that way. "Drag me all you want, but do you hear what I hear?" I paused and grinned, as the faint rattling of steel echoed down the line. "Run fast, and run far." I added, before turning and bolting, as the squeal of metal rang out its ear-piercing and mournful cry, and I ran out to safety, letting the deafening wail slow down my pursuer.

Join MovellasFind out what all the buzz is about. Join now to start sharing your creativity and passion
Loading ...