Bloodshot Eyes

I went into the woods as a child. It was evening, about 7 o'clock, and it was cold outside, normal for late Fall. I always liked these woods for their serene wilderness and vast amount of trees. I looked around and saw an abandoned lumberjack camp. No one was there, only machines. The machines stood in around one single object; a chainsaw. I kept my distance and hugged a nearby tree. I surely didn't know what to expect. If I took one more step, I surely would have fallen down the hill and broke one of my legs.

I looked around at the entire camp; three cabins, machines around a chainsaw, a tractor and wooden logs with axes on them, all behind the cabins for shipment. It was starting to get dark, so I went back to my house, which was nearby. I decided to search it the next day, probably to see what happened.

I had told my mother what was down there, and she told me, "Honey, whatever you do, don't touch anything down there, and don't go down there without supervision. Your father will show you around tomorrow." I replied, "Okay, mommy." After dinner, I went up to my bedroom and put on my pajamas, and went to sleep.

The next day, me and my dad went down to the camp area in the woods. We found our way down and took a look around; still, no one was there. My dad and I looked around the cabins, looked at the wood, the axes and the tractor. The last thing that we saw was the circle of machinery around the chainsaw. My dad remarked, "Huh, whoever these guys were, they surely left this place clean."

My dad and I went up the hill, and he told me, "Honey, stay near the house and be safe. I don't want you to go down there without an adult, okay?" I replied, "Yes, daddy."

I decided to go near a stump and sat down. I closed my eyes, breathing the fresh air, listening to the trees waving and the birds chirping. Suddenly, the chirping ceased, and I opened my eyes. I must have fallen asleep, as it was getting dark outside, very dark. The stars were about to come out, and I decided to go to my house.

I went to my left, where my house was. "Weird", I thought to myself, "Mommy and daddy usually leave the lights on." I ran quickly to my house, the door was opened. I grabbed the emergency flashlight, turned it on and walked into the house. The older wooden boards were creaking, so I had to go to the newer wooden floors.

I looked around the house, not seeing my parents. I then heard a clang come from the kitchen. I ran in the opposite direction, knowing someone might be in our house. I started hearing revving. One...two...three. On the fourth, I heard what was revving up; it was a chainsaw. I hid into my closet, hoping whoever was in my house wouldn't find me.

The sound of the chainsaw started to get closer, as I heard the stair boards creak and the sound of footsteps come closer. I looked at the door. That's the first thing that was opened. A silhouette was coming into the room. It was a tall, built man holding a chainsaw. His hair seemed to go around at random, so he must have had bandages on his head. Finally, I saw his eyes; his bloodshot eyes. He just walked calmly in my room, looking around. He seemed to be holding something in his left hand. It was...my mother! I started to freak out, but for some reason, I couldn't scream.

Soon, the man found me and laughed as he was about to swing his chainsaw down at me.

I woke up in a flash, screaming. I was still on the stump, so I must've fallen asleep. It was evening now, and I ran to my house. Day to day, I stayed in my house and never went into the woods. Over time, however, I started to forget what my nightmare was.

Around two years later, when I was now 13, my dad asked, "Want to go to the lumber camp again?" I said, "Yes, I'd like to see it." We grabbed our jackets and went into the woods once more. It was about 5 minutes until we finally got to the camp.

It was in ruins. The cabins were crushed by the trees, and the machinery was toppled over. All of the machines and buildings corroded over time, and thus they looked terrible. However, there was one thing missing, and it was the chainsaw. I told my dad that we had to go, and he agreed, telling me, "You must not like this place, then."

Hours after we got home, I closed my eyes to listen to the trees again. When I opened them, it was completely dark. This time, I made sure I wasn't dreaming, so I hit myself; nothing. Now I knew I wasn't in a dream. I made sure to grab the flashlight on my dresser and turned it on. I asked for my parents, "Mom...Dad...are you here?" No response.

I looked around my house. Nothing was in shambles, so I, slowly, went down to look for the lights. I switched the lights, but they wouldn't come on. Now the only source of light is now my flashlight. Slowly, I walked down the stairs to make sure no one was inside; the door was shut, in fact, locked. No one must have gotten inside by now.

I asked again, "Mom? Dad? Please answer me." Soon, I heard my mom's voice, "Anna..." It was outside, in the woods. The voice repeated, "Anna...please honey, come back." My head told me not to go, but my body lead itself out of the door. I made sure to grab the hatchet, should anything try to get me.

I kept going towards the voice of my mom, hoping that I'd see her. I looked around the woods until I bumped into something. My flashlight had went out, so I felt the object. It was somewhat gooey and bumpy, so I went left. It felt cold; I hit my flashlight to turn it on. I looked at the object and it was...

My mother! She was standing in front of me like a statue, completely void of a soul. Her eyes were nothing but white. I looked around the woods, and saw my father with the same eyes and stance. His body was pointing to the camp. I decided to face whatever is there head-on, and went down to the camp slowly.

I looked around the camp. The desolate area was cold, and still void of life. The trees seemed to surround me at this point, and the sky seemed to turn red, which was unusual for a new moon. I couldn't find anything, and asked myself, "Did my dad lead me to nothing significant?" I turned around and ran to my house.

As I stopped to catch my breath, I heard a voice behind me. "Anna..." it said, in a cold, raspy voice. A sudden burst of fear came into me as I started to run. As I was running, I heard trees snapping down and falling; I didn't even know where my father was, but I dared not to look back. I even skipped my mother as I ran back to the house.

I ran back in, shut the door and locked it, closed the shutters on the windows and locked the windows. I walked back slowly as I hoped that nothing would get me. It was silent, no noise, nothing. I then heard a rev again. One...two...three...four...

Soon, I heard the door bump. Then it was bashed. I ran up the stairs and into my room, in my closet. I heard a chainsaw completely saw something, most likely the door. My fear was heightened. I was seemingly defenseless against a chainsaw. I turned off my flashlight.

The person was walking up the stairs. I heard my mom's voice, "Anna...", then my dad's, "Anna...". I heard the voices of many people I have met in my life. But how could someone imitate those voices. I was shaking as the man slowly opened my door. The chainsaw pointed in first, then arms, then the rest of the body. The man didn't look like he was in my dreams. No, he was worse. His chest had a large gash, and his arms had 3 cuts on each side, mirroring each other. His pants were ragged, red and blue.

I did my best not to scream as he came near the closet, his bloodshot eyes looking into it with such content. He left out of my room, as if he didn't see me. He dropped something out of his pocket, but left as if he didn't mind. After 15 minutes, all went silent, and after 30 more minutes, the lights came back on. I looked around to see if the man was still at my house, cautiously and slowly. He wasn't anywhere near my house.

Suddenly, I remembered what he had dropped. It was a picture of many guys from the same camp. There was also a name, "Jonathan Mcleod", and an arrow pointing to the third person from the right. He held a chainsaw.

I managed to get on the family computer and search up Jonathan Mcleod. What came up was a news article stating there was an accident that critically injured a man, Jonathan Mcleod. It was reported that a malfunction with one of the machinery, specifically, the saws, caused acidic content splashed into his face, causing him to flail around violently. The machinery had then exploded, causing one of the blades to cut into his face, slitting his wide-open mouth.

How he managed to survive, though, was because of his hands; they caught the blade before it could cut through his head. He was then rushed to the hospital and was treated in the emergency room. Within a couple of hours, his vital signs ceased, and he was deemed deceased.

"But what would he be doing? He shouldn't be in my house. He's dead!", I said. I called the police, who investigated the whereabouts of my parents and the man. They came back with only my mother, who was an empty shell of her former self. It seemed that she ceased to be conscious.

About 10 years later, I had moved into my new house with my daughter, Margaret. I made sure that we had moved far, far away from those woods and that man. Sometimes, however, I still hear a rev of a chainsaw, my mother's voice or the man's voice, and sometimes I still see the man in my dreams; his bloodshot eyes are the last I see in them. My daughter runs into my room at times, telling me that there's a scary man in her dreams.

Today, I went to sleep. A white fog appeared, and slowly, the man comes closer and closer. I didn't move, and as he came to my face, he told me one phrase: "Do not be afraid..."

I woke up at 7 o'clock once again, next to my sleeping daughter. A note sat in her hand; "I'm still here..."