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The StitchMan[]

Every kid here knows the rules. We’re all taught them at a fairly young age. Of  course, not everyone believes them. We all had a time where we thought it was all stupid. We all wondered why we couldn't play in the park after dark, or why we were never allowed to sleep outside, in our backyards or tree houses. “We don't want the stitchman to get you” are parents would say. Of course we didn't believe it. We all thought it was just like the boogeyman. Just meant to scare us so our parents wouldn't have to watch us that late. Of course, some kids still believe it's fake. They'll learn someday. I was like that too, of course. I was worse than most actually, because unlike most kids who would just argue but accept it and leave, I would put up quite the fight, hiding from my parents and refusing to leave the jungle gyms to where my parents would have to come carry my screaming crying ass out of there. It was on one of those occasions, actually, where I first met him. I had made a friend at the park,a red headed kid named Robert, and neither of us knew our phone numbers or addresses(we were to stuipid to think to just ask our parents) and we didn't want to part ways. So, when it was getting dark and our parents were just about to try and get us to leave, we bolted into the woods near the park. We were running pretty fast and eventually, Robert tripped and we could hear our parents running after us, so we went off the trail (another big no-no hear) and hid ourselves as well as we could. Once we heard our parents leave, we began searching for the trail. We couldn't find it, so we just kept walking in a random direction until we did find it(kid logic). We eventually stumbled upon the path, on the older and less used side. At this point we did want to get out of the woods, so we began running through the trail until we bumped into it. He was exactly like they described him. He was tall, taller than either one of us could have guessed, and smelled like the bottom of a lake. Though it was too dark to fully see, we could tell he was wearing a long rain coat that obscured his whole body. His face was covered in shadows, and all we could see was the large black hole where his eyes once were. A large hook came out of one sleeve, and his other reached down to wear we couldn't see his hand. Then it opened its mouth. Most of its teeth were gone and the ones that were there were rotten beyond belief. He twisted his rotten mouth into a large smile and quickly swung his hook into Robert's shoulder. I was frozen with fear as Robert began to scream for me to run. I finally snapped back right as the hook came at me and managed to barely dodge his hook. As I fell back I realized something: he wasn't actually that tall. He was floating at least 4 feet off the ground. I quickly got up and ran as the hook came down again on Robert's throat. At this point i knew there was no hope for him, so i just kept running down the trail. Eventually I bumped into both of our moms and told who had been looking for us and, in tears, told what happened. Robert's mom didn't believe me -she had just moved in and even after my mom explained she still didn't believe it, though after a police call she began to believe it. Once we got out the police were already there and began searching. A scuba diver found the body 5 years later at the bottom of the lake. That all happened 7 years ago, and I moved out long ago. Recently, however, the memory was brought back by some old friends and I decided to try and research the possible origins of the stitchman while I was in town. Eventually, I found an old newspaper article from the 60s. It was fairly long, so I will summarize. Basically, in 1968, after multiple children disappeared, a local fisherman was caught luring a child into his boat by a father searching for his kid. The fisherman was connected to more disappearances. But as a truck was bringing him to jail, it crashed and he escaped. Is hands were found torn out of the hand cuffs and the cops in the car chased him into a lake were he jumped in and drowned. About a year later, in 1969, the legends of the stichman began popping up. I still don't know how he got the name the stitchman, but I know the origins. I'm currently writing this in my hotel in my hometown. A large fire recently destroyed the woods, hopefully taking the stichman with it. I have also been hearing a loud scratching at my window. Like metal on the glass. But every time I look, nothing is there. It's probably nothing. I'll be leaving soon anyway. But just in case anything happens to me, you know what happend. That's why I'm writing this. Because the stichman always gets you. And to warn you, if your some cocky kid living hear, or if you find my town and want to try to find the stitchman. Obey the warnings. Stay inside at night. Don't explore the woods. Be careful. Because even if you escape, the stitchman always gets you.

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Te (talk) 18:57, 26 December 2021 (UTC)[]


First thing I gotta say is you really need to seperate paragraphs. It's an eyesore for the reader to try to wade through a big, fat, lump of text. Everytime the perspective, scene, dialogue, or topic changes, try turning it into a new paragraph.

There are some spelling and grammatical errors that need attention here. Beyond that, there's quite a few sentences that read very awkwardly, or the wording is wrong. "...and his other reached down to wear we couldn't see his hand." for example. Wear means to have something equipped, like a hat or a shirt, where would be appropriate here to denote location.

In terms of the plot of the story, it's not terrible. I found it strongly reminiscent of Freddy Krueger of Nightmare on Elm Street. Murderous psycho who preys on children is caught, dies a gruesome death, and becomes a supernatural horror villain. Now, just because it's an old trope doesn't mean it's not still worth using, or capable of being scary.

All in all, this story needs quite a bit of proofreading before it would be up to the wiki's quality standards. Keep at it, I think you're on to something here.