Board Thread:Writer's Workshop/@comment-37041992-20181004223948/@comment-37041992-20181009190221

BLOODY SPAGHETTI IS MY FAVORITE TYPE OF PASTA

Jesse My parents went away for a week to celebrate their anniversary. It was the first time they left me alone with the house for a relatively long period of time. I confess, I was a little nervous, but they assured me that I was a mature enough son.

On the first night, I was dozing in front of the TV when the power went out. No big deal, sleep was about to consume me anyway.

I was just lying there on the couch, trying to fall asleep, when I thought I heard a noise. A faint creak. It sounded like it came from upstairs, but it was so faint that I wasn't even sure I really heard it. However, when I heard another one a few seconds later, I was sure it was real.

Footsteps. They were coming down the stairs. I felt a type of fear that was alien to me. Imagine hearing something go bump in the night, but times a thousand. These bumps were coming for me.

I thought I might've been dreaming, but just to be safe I got off the couch and crouched down behind the reclining chair. It took a while for my eyes to adjust to the darkness, but soon I saw the figure clear as day.

His appearance would've made me jump even if I just saw him on the street. I observed him thoroughly.

Male, but with hair long like a woman. Black hair. Skinny. Skin was white, but very pale. Clothing consisted of a black shirt, black pants, and black sneakers. A very unsettling ensemble for an intruder if you ask me. Especially that unnervingly pale skin.

The infiltrator walked over to the mirror next to the staircase. After rolling up his sleeves, he grabbed something from his pocket. When I saw him pull out a knife, my heart skipped a beat. Holding it in his left hand, he stuck out his right arm and did something undeniably horrifying.

He began to shave the skin off of his arm, making it skinnier and skinnier. Eventually, he did the other arm. As I watched this horror, I felt sicker than I'd ever been before and just willed with all my might for him to leave. If this was a nightmare, it was easily the worst nightmare I'd ever had. Just the sounds alone would've been enough to traumatize me.

He smiled crazily in the mirror and pulled up his shirt to start shaving his torso. Flaps of skin fell to the floor. I felt light-headed, but I felt like I couldn't look away for my own safety.

He carved every part of his body. His legs, his cheeks, even his neck. I didn't see a single drop of blood the whole time.

After what seemed like ages, he put the knife back into his pocket. On one knee, he began to pick up the flaps of skin that he had got off his body. He wadded it up into a ball.

My level of dismay went from a hundred to a million as I watched him quickly shoved the ball of skin into his mouth. I heard a horrible chewing noise and my mind just couldn't take it anymore. My eyelids went limp and I felt my head smack against the hardwood floor with a loud thump.

I remember waking up in the middle of the room. My head ached and my throat was dry. It took a while for me to fully come to my senses, and it was then that I noticed the nearly unbearable pain in my stomach. It felt like the worst rug burn in the world, which makes you cringe just thinking about it.

When I remembered my whole experience, I screamed and tried to sit up, only to have my stomach hurt even more. The sight of my torso explained the pain. It was cut, bloody, GNAWED. As my mental state dangled from a thread, I tried to crawl to my phone to call for help, sobbing uncontrollably.

Something on the floor caught my eye. When I got closer, I saw that it was a piece of my own skin. A message was crudely written on it in my blood.

"Delicious. I'll definitely eat here again.

- Jesse"