The darkness stirred as if something was living, but that doesn’t happen here. At night, we were quiet; never making a sound or else the monsters got us. My name is Clyde Alexander Chessup, but you may call me Clyde. I am a 16 year old standing at 5’11. My hair is a black color and sticks up in all directions due to the lack of bathing. My eyes shine green, and not a mossy green like so many others, but more of a pale green with little flecks of yellow.

I suppose instead of describing myself, I should be worried of the tapping noise happening around us, sounds almost human, but that’s ridiculous. The only humans here are already asleep, I’m the only one still up and I can almost be certain it is not me. So who is it? Who would dare my writing with that stupid tapping noise? I stood and peered out of my tent slowly, the noise still going as I stepped out nervously. This was wrong, so very wrong. We weren’t supposed to leave our tents at night, if we do, the things get us. But here I was, green eyes wide, standing out in the dark. I took one tentative step forward, then a few more, till I was completely out of the safety of our camp and standing in the trees.

The tap became louder, sounding as if it was right next to me and I was prepared to scream before it was cut off, and so was my lifeline. I felt the pain as it tore across my abdomen and I fell to my knees, my watery eyes looking up to the culprit. There stood an 8ft tall man, his face covered by a hood till he took it off and I saw nightmares. Where his eyes should have been were two bloody holes, the mouth was lipless and sewn shut by some sort of metal. The pits stared at me as I looked down to the weapon and lodged in his fingers, where his nails should have been, were blades as long as my thumb. As my lifeblood was almost gone, he knelt down and touched my head, whispering, “It’s alright now Clyde, sleep.” His voice was like velvet and warmth and it almost seemed as if he knew I had seconds left because once the words left his mouth, my heart stopped.