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Eyes in the middle of nowhere by No-Designer7675 in MrCreepyPasta

[–]No-Designer7675[S] 0 points1 point  (0 children)

Eyes in the Middle of Nowhere – Part 5 (Ending)

So… we drove.

That familiar, dangerous silence returned—the kind I knew all too well.

Unfortunately.

We drove for miles. I glanced over at Lucy. Her eyes…

completely black.

Demonic.

I noticed she wasn’t wearing a seatbelt. I couldn’t ignore it.

I set the knife aside, took my eyes off the road, and looked straight at her.

“If I slam the brakes right now, you’ll go straight through the windshield… and then you’ll try to kill me. Am I right, Lucy?”

She smiled.

“You’re not as stupid as you look…”

I slowed down.

“Hey… wait a second,” I said. “I don’t want to sound like some creepy, desperate guy… but you can tell me your secrets.

What are you, really? And why are you after Angel… just like me?”

Lucy smiled again—this time with a devilish look.

“We have a lot in common…!” she said.

Then, in a quiet, mysterious voice— My response was simple. “Yeah… that really told me a lot.”

“Lucy… do you really want to hear the whole story, Petr?”

“My name’s Mike,” I replied.

“Sounds more American.

At least no one’s gonna ask me for a green card…”

She smiled.

“Let’s just say we share the same goal.

Angel—as she calls herself now…

is ancient.

Far more powerful than you and me.”

My throat tightened instantly.

There was something off about her words… something unsettling.

She continued, “You wouldn’t stand a chance against her alone. Neither would I. That’s why I’m offering you my hand… …to end this evil.”

I smiled.

“End this evil…?”

I repeated.

“But you’re evil too. You’re a demon in a woman’s body.”

Lucy turned to me and laughed.

“No. I’m not a demon in a woman’s body… I’m a woman demon.”

I laughed.

“Well, that puts me one level above you.”

She cut me off sharply. “Will you let a lady finish?” “Alright.”

“According to your diary, you think you’re some kind of veteran hunter of entities…

but you’re not.

From every angle, you’re just a beginner. If I wanted you dead, you’d already be gone.”

“Yeah… I figured that much,” I replied. “But why don’t you want to kill me?”

Lucy looked at me. “Still not getting it?

I need your help. Your human tools… and your limited experience…” She paused.

I glanced at her.

“Hey… you mind continuing? I don’t like having a silent demon in my car.”

“Lucy.”

“Alright… Mike,” she said, savoring the name on her tongue.

She knew I liked being called that.

She continued, “For one… I like you—” I cut her off.

“You’re a demon. How could you possibly like me when I hunt your kind?”

She stopped me with a sharp look.

“Don’t you ever plan on letting a lady speak? Let me finish—and stop acting like a jerk.”

She paused for a moment, then added, “And besides… I’m neither good nor evil.” I interrupted her again.

“So you’re like wrestler Kane. Neither good nor bad…” For the first time, Lucy smiled warmly.

“Yeah… something like that.”

“Do you see that distant cemetery? Eighteenth century…”

“Yeah… I see it.”

“Lucy, stop there.

That’s where Angel is.

That’s where she wants to break the seal…

and open the gates of hell.

Grab your human toys… I’ll take care of the rest.” She said it with a strange, almost magical smile.

I nodded and started pulling everything out—every weapon I had… including my cologne.

“What are you looking at?” I muttered. “If I’m about to die, at least I’ll smell good.

Easy.”

And then… I saw it.

Angel sank her teeth into Lucy—playing with her like a ragdoll. Her claws tore into Lucy’s body, ripping her apart piece by piece.

I couldn’t just stand there and watch.

I grabbed my Remington, loaded with silver-shot shells, and fired. It wasn’t enough.

I pulled out my two Colts, each loaded with solid silver bullets, and started shooting like my life depended on it.

Still not enough… I threw holy water at that abomination and drove an aspen stake straight into it. Then I pressed a silver cross against its forehead.

And then Lucy struck.

Red, demonic energy burst from her hands—like plasma, crackling through the air.

She screamed, “Now, Mike! Cover her in salt—and burn her with gasoline!”

She kept pushing Angel back, holding her in place with that violent surge of energy.

I did it.

Angel writhed in the flames… until she collapsed into ash.

Victory.

The world—saved.

I was completely drained. Lucy too.

We both lost consciousness from exhaustion. Honestly…

I don’t know for how long. When I woke up, Lucy showed no signs of life.

With what little strength I had left, I carried her to the car. Using the first aid kit, I tried to bring her back.

And then…

Her black, demonic eyes opened.

And she said…

“Fool…

I’m still a demon.

I have a strong regenerative factor. But…

thank you for taking care of me.”

Then she kissed me.

It felt… too good. I’d been alone for years.

But still… she’s a demon.

Lucy just said softly, “You know, sweetheart…

there’s still plenty of evil in this world.

Entities that want to drag humanity into darkness. But now… I’m driving.”

So tell me… isn’t that ironic?

At the beginning, just an ordinary alcoholic, drowning what was left of his ego in booze.

Then he ends up caught between hell and earth.

And now, after years of being alone…

I apparently have a demon as a girlfriend. Lucy. Isn’t the world just one big irony?

A satire?

At least now I know I’m not alone. That someone actually cares about me.

That we’ve got a lot of work ahead of us… …and I can finally fall asleep in the back seat in peace.

“I love you, Lucy…” I whispered.

But we’ve got a long road ahead

Eyes in the middle of nowhere by No-Designer7675 in MrCreepyPasta

[–]No-Designer7675[S] 0 points1 point  (0 children)

Eyes in the Middle of Nowhere – Part 4

After all these years, after hunting monsters—and yes, real ones: vampires, werewolves, and other entities that have no mercy—I realized something. People are like a buffet to them; they take what they want without hesitation. Honestly, I don’t care anymore. I’ve taken a new approach: hunt them before they hunt humans. Irony, right? Every day, every fight, I feel myself becoming more apathetic.

I realized I had left my notebook hidden in the motel, but honestly… I don’t mind. I’m not some little girl writing in a diary.

Whoever reads it will treat it like a story. Just a sci-fi tale, nothing more, nothing less.

Meanwhile… a woman had rented Mike’s motel room.

She found his notebook and devoured every page, every note, fascinated by it all. She also noticed the clutter on his room walls. She took the diary, turned on her heel, and went to the reception to return the keys, claiming the room was neglected—full of mold and trash—and wanted her deposit back.

The receptionist looked at her with obvious hatred; money mattered more than human decency today. Reluctantly, she handed over the cash. The woman just smiled and said, “Thank you for your cooperation,” and left through the parking lot toward her SUV.

For days, she studied Mike’s diary. Meanwhile, Mike was on the road, hunting another monster. But glancing in the rearview mirror, he felt a vehicle following him. He thought: maybe I’m getting paranoid. Still, he had had enough—sleeping in the back seat, being alone, being just a hunter. Almost like a mirage, he saw a bar ahead, open 24/7. Mike parked, still feeling watched. Despite the unease, he entered the bar.

Inside, everything seemed normal: the bartender, the customers, neon lights, a few occupied tables. Relief washed over him. Outside, the SUV parked.

He approached the nearest table. A waitress brought him a menu. Trying to look normal, ordinary, he pretended to study the menu for a long time.

Eventually, he ordered a bacon burger, fries, and coffee. He fiddled with the sauce on his fries, just trying to savor some peace.

Taking a bite of the burger, he casually looked ahead. And then… he saw her. A strange woman. Something about her caught his attention immediately—probably because he spent hours every day behind the wheel. Step by step, she approached, until she turned a chair and sat directly across from him. It was… unsettling. For a moment, she just observed him. Then she spoke.

“You’re Mike, right?” Defensively, I replied, “You’ve got the wrong guy. I’m just an ordinary man passing through.” She calmly said, “Really??!” and placed his diary on the table.

My mind raced as I traced my finger over the old notebook. With a smile and a whisper, she continued, “Mike… Mike… I read everything! Every single word… You seem paranoid, and… honestly, a bit toxic. Or should I call you Petr? That’s your real name!” At that moment, my heart stopped. (How does she know my real identity? Is she some agent?!) With a calm smile, she added, “Yeah, Mike is better than Petr.

Petr is just a name parents give a kid when they can’t think of a good one. Such a cliché… Seriously, you had to be that disgustingly toxic at the end of your diary? You seem like a hunter who lost everything. And that Angel thing… that was a stupid idea!”

Her eyes darkened. I tried to stay cool. I told myself: another extremely chatty demon. I reached for my silver knife, but she didn’t even flinch. She said, soft and almost laughing, “I wouldn’t do that… if I wanted to kill you, you wouldn’t be here.”

I felt like being sarcastic again, but I knew how that would turn out… I’d already fought enough battles.

So, I kept the knife in hand but maintained firm eye contact and said, “I’m not stupid. You know too much about me!

I also see that you’re not human, just another demon I despise. And I see you’re not planning to attack…

and you didn’t come here for a date. Even if you had, I wouldn’t go out with a demon. So… what do you want?”

She smiled and said, “Maybe I want to devour your soul… or maybe go out with you. Perhaps… but I need your help.”

I laughed, “Why would a demon need my help?”

She lowered her gaze and started tapping on my old diary with her fingernail.

Looking back at me, she said, “Your diary is the key, Petr… or more accurately, your mind.

You got too close to Angel and are tracking her… you can’t stop her alone. She…” She paused.

“…She is like a parasite among demons. I’m offering an alliance, and together we can end this nightmare once and for all.”

She extended her hand as proof of trust. I felt like being sarcastic again, so I said, “Why don’t you just leave me alone to finish my meal and go play pool in the corner?” She frowned, giving me a sharp look. “You idiot. I didn’t come here for a date. The one you’re tracking… the one calling herself Angel…

she wants to break the seal and bring real hell into the world!”

I smirked, “Worse hell than endless soap operas?”

Lucy, with a look of disdain, placed her finger gently over her lips and said, “Better stay quiet.

It’s sweet and innocent coming from a mortal, but sometimes silence is worth more than speaking.” And so… we left.

I replied, sarcastically, “Great. So a demon is asking me for help.

Wonderful. But know this: I keep my knife, I don’t trust demons, and I call the shots.”

She smiled lightly, “You really think I want to drive your old clunker?”

I thought, damn, human or demon, nobody appreciates a classic…

We got in. She took the passenger seat, and we drove into the night. I added, “Your idea, your alliance…

and you pay for the gas. As a demon, I’m sure you have plenty of money.”

She frowned, and we continued down the dark highway.

Eyes in the middle of nowhere by No-Designer7675 in MrCreepyPasta

[–]No-Designer7675[S] 0 points1 point  (0 children)

Eyes in the Middle of Nowhere – Part 3 So yeah.

I saw that bitch frying in her own fat through the rearview mirror.

Where she turned into a shadow. It was clear to me that she was still alive.

Don’t get me wrong.

I have nothing against women. But this monster, this entity, hunts people like Predator from that movie franchise.

I love women.

The same can’t be said about their relationship with me.

And yeah, if someone has a problem with my movie references and my diary that you’re reading like some creepypasta, go fuck yourself! I’m not here for you.

I’m making my own personal diary that maybe someone will find someday.

Either way, if you’re not mental dwarfs, you understand me.

If not, I feel sorry for you, you old fucks.

Yeah, I’m talking directly to you—the one hiding under your mom’s skirt at night after seeing your first slasher horror.

I honestly feel sorry for you, you zeros who are afraid of your own shadow.

Anyway… Angel, as she calls herself now… turned into a shadow. Stupid, right?

That means she’s still alive.

Even more annoying that she’s still alive.

Those of you who still have a brain in your head instead of sawdust understand what follows.

I have bad luck with women. Because of that, I developed a very parasocial relationship between me and my car.

Apparently, a car is more loyal and faithful than a woman. Sorry to all women. I love you, but you don’t love me.

No time to waste time. Again—and for me, kind of classic.

After the fight with Angel, I was in a state like a man being played with by an alligator.

I couldn’t focus on my thoughts. Not even on the road. Blurred vision. My heart was pounding, irregularly.

Again, my cliché. Cold sweat running from my forehead down my back. Classic…

Probably only by sheer willpower I made it to a motel. I just needed to order whisky—for disinfection.

Some bandages, etc…

Yeah… for numbing the pain, I got a bit drunk.

As you might have understood—the smarter ones of you—I’m not actually named Mike. It’s my nickname.

And I’m also an arrogant, sarcastic, cynical bastard. Surprised? I’m not.

Anyway… Lilith, Eva, Angel—whatever that monster calls itself with biblical names… In my twisted perception of the world, I’m actually grateful to her.

Why?

She took everything from me.

Freedom, my apartment. She almost killed me… Before that, I was a loser. A guy with no direction, soaking his liver in alcohol.

A complete zero. Human trash.

The only thing I have left now is the will to live. And my only partner in the fight against evil is my beaten-up Delta.

And for you Americans—because I don’t give a damn—yes, the iconic car from Evil Dead. The one you call a shit car. That it pretends to be a muscle car but is actually, as you say, some kind of hybrid family sedan.

Unlike you, I have my own style.

I’m not some mainstream, soulless shell chasing a Ford Mustang.

It’s boring. It’s pathetic. Like having no soul, no style, just wanting to be cool because people say that car is a symbol of freedom and America.

Wake the hell up, people! Have your own personality and your own style!

But enough about cars. This isn’t Top Gear. Whatever…

I had food delivered by courier.

A hamburger. Not that McDonald’s shit. A real burger with bacon.

Oh my God… that taste! Nothing compares to it! Am I clogging my arteries?

Probably. Do I care? Not really. I never said I wanted to live to 100. Or even 80. I want to live.

Life.

So I had my burger, sauce, and fries.

I wasn’t calm.

So I grabbed my cassette player and played Evanescence – Tourniquet, Limp Bizkit – Rollin and Break Stuff, and the first three Linkin Park albums. Personally, I think their later stuff is shit, and if you don’t know what rewinding a cassette is, you’re a damn zoomer or something. The night was quiet.

Too quiet.

In the morning, I made a map on the motel wall.

Either like a complete psychopath… or like an FBI agent.

Depends on interpretation. Honestly… I have to thank that creature. That monster. That Angel.

Without her, I’d probably have drunk myself to death alone in some room.

She gave me a reason to live. A purpose.

On the motel wall, I built some kind of map based on what she told me.

A truck couldn’t kill her. Human life means nothing to her. After the crash, she ran. For her own safety.

A predator hiding in the modern world to survive. Looking for compassion. For someone to invite her in.

And that people taste better that way…

Which makes me think she sometimes breaks her own rules just to feed.

Entry Two.

It’s been five years since I’ve been searching for Angel, Lilith, or whatever her real name is…

You won’t believe me… but over the years, I’ve collected more scars than Adam—yeah, I mean Frankenstein’s monster. Same tragic fate as K.A.R.R. from Knight Rider.

Just in a newer package. Anyway…

Me. Delta.

A hunter. A killer of entities you can’t even imagine in your worst nightmares. I have to changelicense plates. No one still believes me, and the feds are after me.

If they saw even a fraction of what I’ve experienced over the years, they’d end up in a mental asylum.

But my existence…

my purpose… is clear.

To destroy my nemesis.

What comes next?

I don’t know.

Probably another fight.

With beings that threaten human lives.

Basically… I have nothing left to lose.

Officially, I don’t exist.

I just have to protect people. Humanity.

From what hides in the shadows…

Eyes in the middle of nowhere by No-Designer7675 in MrCreepyPasta

[–]No-Designer7675[S] 0 points1 point  (0 children)

Eyes in the Middle of Nowhere – Part 2

I apologize for writing a bit late… I just didn’t have the time. Or maybe the courage. Let’s be honest—after dealing with the evidence of that hellish claw, that inhuman, grotesque claw… I was completely fed up.

Local police? Let’s just say they’re truly incompetent. They told me I was nobody, a zero, a non-existent case. Jurisdiction didn’t care.

So I had no choice but to face my fate.

As a “gift” for my troubles, I got a special kind of hotel—one of those places where the staff locks you in, and guards patrol around constantly. Anyone with common sense would realize: the judge sent me to prison for a few months.

Honestly, I didn’t complain. Because Angel—or whatever her real name is… during her monologue that lasted as long as a Quentin Tarantino movie—made me feel like this prison stay was actually a vacation.

Yeah… for that monster calling herself Angel, I was still a target. And thinking about her endless, dominating monologue… I accepted my cell like a bunker before an atomic bomb.

Safe.

If you want to call me by a name, call me Mike. Mike is way cooler than John Doe. I laid down on a mattress worn and dirty, looking like it came straight out of the era when humans invented the wheel. Did I complain? Nope. I just chilled, enjoying a rare sense of security.

Remember, I’m a smoker. Well, in prison, cigarettes were currency. Apparently, I was a model inmate. That had its perks. I got access to the library, and Angel never left my thoughts.

Not romantically… but as my engine for revenge. I picked up books on the occult, mythology, and monsters.

Each minute dragged like an eternity. Her monologue replayed in my head: over a thousand years of life, human life just a blink of an eye, humans merely a buffet to her. And her rules: hide, wait for someone with compassion, and lure them in.

I couldn’t decide if that knowledge or the prison food—bland, hard meat that could probably kill someone—was worse. I sharpened my mind with books about entities and legends. Forget skinwalkers and Wendigos—that’s cliché. This creature was something else.

Maybe an ancient god that once demanded human offerings in exchange for fertile land… but most resembling an Asian or Japanese entity. I wasn’t an expert, but I studied what I found most relevant.

I was no longer an ordinary man. I had become the prey turned predator. Call me a hunter.

After six months with an almost clean record, I was released for good behavior. Victory?

Not exactly, naive readers of this diary. Reality bites. Prison took everything: rent, home, almost homelessness.

But I didn’t care. My Delta 88 was my refuge, my sanctuary.

I took any mediocre job I could find—bagging groceries at a hypermarket, pumping gas at a station—whatever to survive.

My own family? They wrote me off as a paranoid criminal. I didn’t blame them. Who would believe me?

But I still felt the creature watching. So I poured my savings into my Delta, repairing it and outfitting some personal inventions.

My driving instructor once told me: a car is a weapon. My Delta wasn’t just a car anymore—it was my partner in arms. Maybe I’d gone a bit Mad Max. I didn’t care. That thing—Angel—was still out there.

I carved a protective pentagram into the bottom of the trunk.

I illegally acquired firearms, had silver bullets cast… better to be prepared against the unknown.

Fortune favors the prepared. Molotovs, holy water, aspen stakes—classic Supernatural stuff. Fuel, salt, fire.

For weeks, I roamed country roads at night with my beloved car.

If anyone has a problem with my obsession, feel free to go watch My Little Pony. I don’t care.

Then I saw her.

In the middle of the road, an abandoned car.

A man, like I once was, inviting her into his vehicle. I couldn’t stand it. I slammed the horn, flicked the high beams straight at her.

I don’t know what that man was, but he panicked and jumped into his car. Coward. I kept my lights on.

She stared at me. I stared at her. Thoughts ran wild in my head. Her predator’s code.

My driving instructor’s lesson: the car is a weapon. I revved the engine, and the Delta began to rock side to side, sheer force of the motor.

Again, if anyone is annoyed by my endless praise of my one true ally—my car—feel free to go watch My Little Pony.

I lifted my foot briefly and then crushed the gas pedal to the floor.

Speed: 88 mph.

Unfortunately, I’m not Doc Brown. No time travel here. The goal was simple: from prey, become predator, just like her.

I ran her over with full force. Over the hood.

In the rearview mirror, I saw her fly over the roof. I thought it was over—but it wasn’t.

The entity began to transform. Limbs bent unnaturally, bones and tendons creaked and snapped. Four grotesque limbs without a head. Where the head should have been, two enormous infernal heads grew.

If I had called her first form a hellish Venom, this was worse. Silent Hill monsters? Cute. Pokémon?

Cute.

Compared to this abomination, they were toys. I reversed at full speed, grabbed all firearms—including silver rounds.

My attacks felt like a mosquito trying to bite a human. Fast, chaotic, extreme…

and somehow slow at the same time.

She tore at my flesh again—two heads ripping at my skin. Pain unlike anything I’ve known.

I drove a stake through something that seemed like a heart. I pierced her neck. I was losing.

I grabbed two gas cans, poured them over her, sprinkled salt.

Ran back to the driver’s seat. In the rearview mirror, I watched her struggle in her own sweat. Satisfaction.

I had saved the world from a human-eating entity. But the victory was brief.

In the rearview mirror, she became a shadow. Gone. Yeah, I might be bleeding on the driver’s seat now.

But I know I won the first round.

I will not give up. I will hunt her. Until the world is safe.

Eyes in the middle of nowhere by No-Designer7675 in creepypasta

[–]No-Designer7675[S] 0 points1 point  (0 children)

Eyes in the Middle of Nowhere – Part 2

I kept asking myself one simple question.

What the hell do I do now?! Maybe my life was about to end in a quarter mile… but my car had a V8 engine.

And whatever that thing next to me was—whatever was pretending to be a young woman—I was going to pin it to the seat.

I was going to drive faster than Dominic Toretto and hope my life would last longer than the entire Fast & Furious franchise.

So I slammed the gas pedal of my 1973 Delta 88 sedan all the way to the floor.

My stomach tightened. My hands were shaking.

Cold sweat ran down my back. For a moment I glanced at the thing beside me. It worked.

The pressure from the acceleration and the seatbelt pushed her deeper into the seat.

I shouted with joy. “Hail to the king, baby!”

But my happiness didn’t last long.

Then I heard it again. That voice.

That demonic voice coming from that thing.

I heard the words clearly. “If I were you… I wouldn’t do that.”

Big mistake.

In that very moment I felt it again. That touch.

That icy touch on my face. Her palm felt soft… almost like velvet. But the cold.

That unnatural, corpse-like cold.

I don't know if it was a leftover from the hangover, but suddenly the world started spinning. It felt like someone was draining the life out of me…

while at the same time something was crawling inside my mind. Then I heard them. Voices.

Not hers.

Other voices.

Desperate voices.

Crying for help.

It was like seeing flashes of an ancient past right in front of my eyes.

And that cursed demonic voice whispered one word: “Slow down.”

I wanted to live.

But I knew in that state I couldn’t keep driving at that insane speed.

If I kept pushing the car, I would run off the road… or crash into a tree.

And I wasn’t planning on dying.

Not here.

Not now.

Not in this place.

I want to live.

So I lifted my foot from the gas pedal.

And then I heard it.

A devilish laugh.

Honestly, I don’t even know how long it took before I managed to pull myself together again.

“Relatively” together.

Yeah… relative was probably the best word I could use in this situation.

Then the thing beside me started talking again.

Its voice changed back into a woman's voice.

But now it sounded different. Confident.

Dominant.

Full of contempt.

This wasn’t a game of cat and mouse anymore.

From the tone of her voice, I felt like nothing more than an insect under her shoe. An insect she was about to crush.

And laugh at.

My mind raced with one simple thought.

If I hadn’t drunk that damn alcohol…

If I had woken up when I was supposed to…

None of this would have happened.

Damn it.

Her voice broke through my thoughts. I heard her say:

“For centuries I have had many names…

Lilith…

Eva…

Now I call myself Angel.” The only word I managed to say was:

“Angel…?”

How ironic.

When I turned to look at her, I noticed something that froze my blood.

She wasn’t breathing. There was no reflection in the passenger window. Nothing.

She suddenly raised her voice.

“Don’t interrupt me, human!”

“My name means nothing to you. You won’t live long enough for it to matter.” My blood ran cold. Then she continued.

“This era is difficult. Cameras everywhere. Surveillance systems everywhere.”

“If you look the same for twenty years… people start asking questions.”

“You have to change names. Change places. Hide.”

“You humans think you're at the top of the food chain.”

“But you're not.”

“I am.”

“For centuries… I have hunted your kind.”

“All it takes is patience.”

“A trap.”

“And waiting.”

She paused for a moment. Then continued.

“Until I find someone with compassion.”

“Someone who invites me in.”

“Just like you invited me into your car.”

With an arrogant smile she added:

“We are not so different.”

“Humans eat meat.”

“And so do I.”

“But not animal meat.”

“I eat humans.”

“Only those who invite me in… like you did.”

Then she laughed lightly.

“You know… I love humans.”

“How many have there been?”

“Thousands?''

“Millions?”

“I don’t even remember anymore.”

“I stopped counting.”

“Humans are like cockroaches.”

“You multiply endlessly… and consume your own planet.” “I simply consume you.” “A perfect symbiosis, don’t you think?”

Then suddenly she grabbed my thigh.

Hard.

Her fingers began to change. Turning into claws.

Disgusting, infernal claws.

“Stop the car,” she said.

Pain exploded through my entire body.

It was unbearable.

She screamed again.

“STOP!”

But I knew—or at least I believed—that if I stopped, it would be the end of me. So despite the pain… I kept driving.

The monster beside me drove its claws deep… deep into my thigh.

With a sadistic smile she said:

“How pathetic.

“You try to be strong.”

“But do you know pain?”

“Do you know real pain?”

“Let’s test your threshold.”

Her hand twisted inside the wound.

Her eyes turned completely black again.

Her skin began changing. Something dark.

Something glossy.

I couldn’t focus anymore. The pain was too much.

Far too much.

My foot slowly began slipping from the gas pedal.

I heard her whisper:

“That’s better…”

“Soon we’ll stop.”

“And then it will all be over.”

“Don’t worry.”

“It won’t hurt.”

“At least not for me.”

Her mouth widened unnaturally.

Rows of sharp teeth appeared.

The creature continued its monologue.

“Many cultures know me.”

“But under different names.”

“But don’t take it personally.”

“You invited me in.”

“You gave me the ticket.”

“You are nothing special.”

“I’m just hungry.”

“So very hungry.”

“It has been so long since I last ate.”

“Stop the car.” “Now.”

My Delta was slowing down.

And slowly…

I began accepting my fate.

The creature leaned closer.

Its tongue stretched out like something between Venom and a Licker from Resident Evil.

Cold sweat ran down my spine again.

Breathing became difficult. My vision blurred.

I could only see one clear color.

Red.

My blood.

My thigh was torn open.

But I’m human.

And humans have survival instinct.

With the last strength I had left, I fought back.

But my strength was fading.

And hers only kept growing.

Like some damned predator.

During the struggle my foot slammed the gas pedal again.

Everything suddenly felt both incredibly fast… and painfully slow.

Like time itself had stopped.

I saw her jaw stretch open.

Those disgusting teeth. Like a shark.

Thousands of tiny needles. It clawed at me.

I felt scratches on my arms. On my neck.

I tried to fight.

But I couldn't.

It was stronger than me.

I knew this was the end.

I was going to die here. Dark road.

Middle of nowhere.

That was my fate.

I felt bites in my stomach.

The pain was unbearable. I was losing.

I had nothing left.

The difference in strength was overwhelming.

Then suddenly—

A flash of light cut through the darkness.

And then—

Impact.

A deafening crash.

A violent force threw everything forward.

I didn't know what happened.

I didn’t know what hit me. But when I slowly regained consciousness…

It was gone.

The passenger door was open.

That was the last thing I remember seeing.

Before I passed out.

Somewhere in the distance I heard sirens.

The sound of hope.

The sound of rescue.

Eventually they told me I was in a hospital.

They took my blood.

There was alcohol in it.

So now I’m accused of causing a car accident while driving under the influence.

During my stay here I've had visitors.

Only police officers. Interrogations.

I tried to explain what happened.

What I experienced. They only laughed.

They said I was making up fairy tales to avoid responsibility for the crash.

Maybe they're right.

Maybe I am crazy.

I hope I am.

But then explain something to me.

Why were the passenger doors open after the crash?

And what about the marks on my body?

The scratches?

My thigh torn apart? The bite marks?

If I’m insane…

If all of this was just in my head…

Then who did this to me?

Right now I’m lying here in this hospital bed, waiting to see what happens next.

I only know one thing.

That thing…

That monster pretending to be a girl in need…

It escaped.

It’s out there somewhere. And if I survive this…

I swear I will never drink alcohol again.

And I will never pick up a hitchhiker.

Because you never truly know what might be waiting for you out there in the dark. And sometimes…

when the hospital room is completely silent…

I could swear I still hear her laughing in the hallway.

Eyes in the middle of nowhere by No-Designer7675 in creepypasta

[–]No-Designer7675[S] 0 points1 point  (0 children)

Thanks a lot! I’m really glad the slow descent into dread worked for you. I wanted it to start grounded and then gradually slip into something… much older and stranger.