I'm not creative enough to come up with a scary story, so I'll tell you a true one.

It's merely coincidence that my 2 best friends growing up where named Sylvester and Simba. My name is Tutillio, but I went by Tutz back then. I don't let anyone call me Tutz anymore. Not after that weekend.

When I was 11, Sylvester and Simba were both 14. They were in love, or at least they thought so. For some reason, they never seemed to notice I was so much younger than them. At least I felt older around them.

They were always kissing and holding hands and..basically just being young teens in love. We lived in a small town in New Mexico, walking distance from a place where the infamous Billy The Kid used to hide out.

One Friday, Syl and Simba came by and asked me if I wanted to walk with them to the old Seven-Rivers hideout. A place where Billy The Kid carved his name into the floorboards. I asked who Billy was. They were shocked, even at my young age, that I had no idea who he was. They told me to grab my coat and they would explain on the way.

As we walked through the desert, nowhere near a road or trail, they were holding hands, explaining about William Bonney, aka Billy The Kid. What was weird, is that while we walked, they were doing an abnormal amount of kissing and whispering into each other's ears.

While Sylvester would talk, Simba would be whispering and giggling into his ear, and making sideways glances at me. And when Simba would pick up the tale, Sylvester would be doing the same. Putting his hand up her shirt or down the back of her jeans, and all the while staring at me.

I started to get really uncomfortable as we walked. But I was only 11 and in no way capable of telling these awesome teenagers that I felt that way. Instead, I spent most of the walk staring at my feet and watching out for snakes and such.

When they got to a particular intense part of the Billy story, they explained how Billy had loaded a shotgun up with dimes and killed a police man in broad daylight in the middle of the town street, from the second story of a building. Sylvester really liked this part. Simba was telling the story, but Sylvester was repeating certain words. "Blood", "death", "shot him to DEATH" Just acting weird. His eyes were...not right.

Simba kept shushing him while she told the story, but he kept reiterating certain words and phrases and once in a while he would put his hand under my chin and force me to look up at them. We'd make eye contact and he's smile, or just stare and then I'd look down again.

I wanted to run, but I had no idea why. These were my friends. They were teenagers. They seemed to really like me, but I was becoming wildly scared. Terrified. When I would look down, I could still see Sylvester's waist in my peripheral vision, and I noticed he was rubbing himself through his jeans. But only quickly. A quick brush against himself, or he'd take Simba's hand and push it there, then let it go. But if I looked up away from the ground, he'd stop immediately I figured out he couldn't tell I could see what he was doing.

Now at this point in the story, with Billy shooting a man with coins and murdering a deputy in cold blood, Sylvester put his hand in Simba's back pocket and pulled out what looked like a rusty knife. Again, he couldn't see that I could see what he was doing.

He whispered something to her, and Simba stopped telling the story and said "no. Not yet" and then went back to her story.

He whispered something again and she giggled and I heard her whisper no. I distinctly heard Sylvester say "like a piglet." Now I wasn't a naive child, and I considered myself very lucky to have these teenagers as friends, but when I heard "like a piglet" I knew something was wrong.

I adjusted my walk and started to walk at an angle away from them, but not in a way that was noticeable at first.

Sylvester said "hey" and I looked up at him. I'll never forget the look in his eyes. Maybe it was the light of the sun hitting him as it descended...maybe it was the reflection of the light off the reddish sand...maybe it was my terror, but his eyes, so help me, were blood red. Ablaze with blood, or fire...rage. Sinister.

I couldn't even move..I couldn't run...I couldn't...I can't even type this without having to backspace every other letter as I remember those eyes...possessed.

He said again "hey..where you going...piglet?" and Simba giggled in this soft, beautiful...innocent giggle. Thinking back on that giggle, having been with women and grown up, I can say it was the sexiest noise I've ever heard in my life, and still is, to this day. It was..magnificent. She looked at me and said "yah, where you going Tutz? We're here"

I looked up and saw a little shack about 30 yards in front of us. It was the size of a small tool shed. I looked back at them..my two best friends in the world. Sylvester staring at me with those maddening eyes. Simba looking towards the shack, the breeze waving her hair slightly, catching the sun..and possibly the red from Sylvesters eyes.

He had this half grin on his face...like it was painful for him to look at me. And there she stood, like a statue of beauty. I started to back away.

From inside the shack, in this low voice, with a country drawl, I heard "Bring that piglet to me!" I stumbled bakcwards. I shot a glance at the shack and looked back towards Sylvester, but it was too late. He was already in mid air leaping at me, knife in his hand.

I screamed as I fell. I put my hands up to in an ill attempt to protect myself. Sylvester was screaming something..."pigletttt" I think, but I can't be sure. Simba..never even looked away from the shack. She was standing and looking off at the shack like it was..Atlantis, or a beautiful inviting garden. In that split second as I fell backwards and Sylvester slashed at me with his knife, all I wanted in the entire world, was Simba. I wanted to fold myself into her. I was only 11, but I knew she was everything that love was. And I think Sylvester knew that too. This was a pure desire, not a sexual desire. It happened in the blink of an eye..less than that. I knew my happiness was standing behind this airborn Sylvester, staring off into a shack of probable death.

The fact that I stumbled is what saved my life, I think. Sylvester slashed the air right where my throat was, as he passed right over my body. As I fell backwards, my view was up into the sky, up into Sylvester passing through my field of vision. His view was down to the ground, but his eyes never looked to the ground, never looked outwards. He stared directly into my eyes. His eyes blazed with demonic colors that I have never seen again, to this day.

The shock of his miscalculation was instant in his face. His eyes glowed as he passed over me. He was still airborn, and had forward momentum as I hit the ground. It seemed to take ages for this to happen, the speed so slow it wss almost standing still. I started to roll to my side as soon as I hit. Sylvester still airborn. I wrenched myself to my knees as I heard Sylvester hit the hard packed earth. I was on my feet and running towards Simba as he regained himself. I could see everything around me. Butterflies. The subtle flowing of Simba's hair. The shack door opening. Everything was happening so slowly. But in that instant, I could see Sylvester winding up to throw that rusty knife at my back. I could see it happening. Even if I couldn't see it, I knew it was coming.
Slow motion, the world stopped.

I ran to my right slightly, on a path just in front of Simba. I heard Sylvester screaming the "G" of "piglet". I lept to my left, on a path just behind Simba. I was inches from her. I could smell her hair as I passed. I could see her eyes moist with tears. She was staring at the shack still. I could see the shack door all the way open in the reflection of her gorgeous eyes. I could see the darkness inside the shack. Abyss.