Creepypasta Wiki
Advertisement
A31961984aa2db84599a42bb3912f782--dark-fantasy-photography-eerie-photography

Sophie lurking in the woods

"Sophie is here. Sophie is here. Sophie is here."

The dreadful, tormenting voice got louder and louder, as well as darker and more corrupted. Soon, it sounded like the voice of a demon; deep, dark, disturbing. My little sister, Candace, was shivering uncontrollably as we hid in a cupboard, while outside our dog, Ben, was being brutally tortured by Sophie. We could hear screaming, yelping, the tearing of flesh and the splattering of blood. The poor dog looked terrified and could tell that the wicked girl would not stop. Why did I ever have to talk to Sophie? Why did this terrible girl ever come into our lives? This was all consequent to an event that happened the day before...

It was a nice and sunny day, and like Candace and I did on most Saturdays, we went walking through the forest just off the street that we lived on. My sister and I found great fun in doing so.

"What shall we play?" asked my little sister, innocently.

"Whatever you want," I responded. It didn't really matter what we played. I just enjoyed bonding with my only sibling.

"Let's play hide and seek!" decided Candace. I was a little disappointed by this choice due to us having played it so many times before, but when I say, "Whatever you want," I mean whatever you want. Perhaps that was why my sister and I got along so well. We just fit together.

And so I stood behind a tree and counted. It was about two minutes until I had counted to 100, and so I began my journey through the forest. I knew that Candace had enough sense to not wander too far, so I wasn't worried when I couldn't immediately see her. But not too long after, I could already see my little sister's outline in the trees. I decided to humour Candace by not initially acting like I knew where she was. But as I grew closer to the figure in the trees, I realised that it was not Candace. This girl had long dark hair, wore no shoes and had a strange, almost peasanty-looking garb on. Before I could back away, the girl spoke.

"Hello. Clarissa. I am glad to meet you. I am Sophie."

"Hi," I responded reluctantly. I was instantly shocked that she knew my name. I had never seen Sophie around town before. She looked like she was starving. If I had some food on me I would have offered her some, but all I had was a few breath mints. But then I forgot why I was even there.

"Do you know where my sister is?" I asked. I did not expect her to know; I was merely trying to learn more about this mysterious girl.

Sophie turned around, and a small smirk spread across her unkempt face.

"Don't you think it's a little early to be asking that?" she responded in a sinister tone.

I didn't even bother to hang around for more. This girl must have been autistic. Or senile. I felt kind of bad, but foxes were known to lurk around this forest, and the last thing I wanted was for Candace to encounter one. I turned around to see if Candace was approaching, but she wasn't.

"Goodbye, Sophie," I finally said, spinning around. But, to my shock, Sophie had disappeared. And so I began my search for Candace. It was long and there were many flies around, all buzzing around in my face. My encounter with Sophie was disturbing, and now prevented me from being completely secure around here. A hot and unsettling hour later, I finally found her.

"Oh, Candace! There you are. I was getting worried..." I said, rushing toward her.

I was shocked when Candace turned around. She was crying and looked terrified.

"What happened?" I asked, relatively worried.

But my little sister said nothing. Under my guidance, we edged our way out of the forest and back to our house, but on the way up the driveway, Candace uttered four words. "Her name was Sophie..."

I knew it. I had a feeling that girl had something to do with this. I told my parents about the situation but they insisted that, "Sophie just wanted to play." They denied my requests to call the police, so I decided to take matters into my own hands. Candace and I would play in the local park where there were adults and less danger. Candace agreed without a single argument.

We slept in the same room and by the time I had gone to bed, I decided that Sophie must have kicked a squirrel or abused another animal in one way or another to upset Candace. Seeing animals get hurt often disturbed her.

But, at about 2 A.M., I was awakened to a loud thud downstairs. Candace had also been disturbed by this noise, and was wide awake. Finally, we decided to investigate the noise. We crept slowly down the stairs, and were greeted by the pleas and yelps of our dog, Ben. Candace and I quickly retreated into a closet, and tried to make out the situation from the keyhole. We saw our poor, beaten dog: Bloody, battered and about to die.

Candace began to sob, but before she got to maximum volume, I covered her mouth. Then, suddenly, we saw her. It was Sophie. She was beating the dog, ripping bits of its flesh off with her teeth and eating them. If this was what she had done in front of Candace, then I hardly blamed her for being in tears. But how did she get into our house? Who was she?

"Sophie is here. Sophie is here. Sophie is here." She repeatedly chanted this in a disturbing manner, and I was very worried for our parents, as well as my sister.

The voice got worse and would not stop. Eventually, Ben stopped fighting, and both Candace and I knew he was dead. But Candace was too shocked and deep in denial to even cry or accept the reality of the situation, much to my relief; as even a small sniffle from my sister would blow our cover.

Suddenly, as if telepathically alerted to our presence, Sophie ran up to the door, and opened it. Both Candace and I gave a horrified yelp that we had been discovered, before I began to feel myself weakening.

"At last," cackled Sophie, "I satisfy my hunger with a feast."

That was the last I heard before I blacked out.

When I came too, all was silent. It took me a few seconds to remember that our household was under attack by a psychopathic cannibal. But why should she eat us? The generous people of our town always held soup kitchens and other fund raisers for the hungry. The poor and undernourished people always loved it. That's when it clicked. Sophie wasn't a human. I hurried upstairs and into my parents' room, but they were all gone. The walls were violently spattered with blood. I turned around to search the house for them, but came face to face with Sophie. She had blood all around her mouth. My stomach sank as I realised that they had all been eaten alive.

"W-where is my family?" I stammered.

Sophie just laughed. "Don't you think it's a little late to be asking that?"

I wasn't about to die without questioning her motives.

"Why would you do this?" I asked bravely.

"You would too if you had spent a hundred years in hell, and after finally being summoned, surrounded by delicious humans."

I had noticed that her face was looking less human, and more satanic. The real her had come out.

After she said that, she lunged at me, and began to violently rip my flesh off. But I didn't fight it. Before I knew it, I was dead, and hopefully re-united with my family somewhere, so I could apologise to poor little Candace for letting these horrifying events transpire...



Written by Rectrixadam
Content is available under CC BY-SA

Advertisement