Creative writing 1.4

She was sure this was where he had disappeared as
footprints marked the ground like a permanent tattoo, and trails of blood
fled the scene alongside birds singing lullabies, wind whistling, and leaves
scratching each other like a cat clawing the wall. She was startled by the sudden
noises heard coming beneath her rubber boots, a silent voice of terror hissing in the
distance, “What was that?” She said to herself. She continued her journey towards the
sound, as she got closer the hair on the back of her neck stood as if someone was pulling
it,
and goosebumps of winter appeared down along her
arms, ‘Am i being watched’ she was thinking to herself,
“HeLpPp!!!” the growl of a deepend voiced human fled the forest
alongside heavy winds, she sprinited as far as possible fleeing the
area, as she exited the forest, the echo of the voice got quieter and quieter.
She started realising that, that could have been him, screaming for help, or maybe
he was being tortured as she was making her way through the forest, who knows what
had happened. 

 Not knowing the tale behind the forest she didn’t wanna leave without a trace,
she sat on the curb of the parking lot thinking of what could have made that sound,
or what could have made something scream so loud, ‘maybe it was a bear, happily eating
its salmon’, she was thinking of many ways to get her mind of the anonymous scream.
The sun started to seek shelter behind earth's waves, and the moon started to set light to
the night sky as it rose above the brown swaying brunches. 20 minutes of thinking about
entering the forest went by, she finally chose what she wanted to do, so she entered back
into the dark, misty forest to continue the hunt. As she strolled along the misty forest, she
heard leaves cracking, brunches snapping, and wind howling, “Somethings not right” she
whispered underneath her breath, “Who's there?” A man I had never seen before shouted
with a cracked  voice, standing stiff, legs inches apart from each other, he was holding a
bright
torch shining it the direction i was standing, that was when i took the hardest turn of my life,
i slowly turned around like a sloth, CraCk! A brunch snapped, “Come out now!” he yelled,
i slowly shifted towards the light, “I’m innocent” I said with my hands above my head, my hands
were shaking, arms were vibrating, and my legs as wobbly as a strip of spaghetti. “What are you
doing out here so late Mrs?” I shrugged my shoulders, i couldn’t really speak properly, because
i was scared i would get
locked up, or even worse “I’m just taking a late walk” i suddenly said, “Who are you?”
I asked. “I am the park ranger, I think you should come with me and get something
warm for you”.

As the Park ranger took me down this rocky, and uneasy trail the ranger told me a
horrifying story about the forest he said
“It was said in 1989, a man who lived in a busted up town lured men and
women into the woods, using screams of little children, or boxes of fake money and
he would slaughter them as a sacrifice, and turn their kids into his slaves also known
as the black eyed children, the people who still live in that town nicknamed him
The Slasher, and till this day no one, and i mean no one lived to describe the face of The
slasher. They say he lives on till this day”.  “The only reason
I took this job was because i wanted to find who killed my parents
and save this town from whatever lurks in these woods” the man said angrily.
“AHHHHHHH, HELP!” we heard someone scream a scream of terror from the darkest
depth of the forest which was downwards besides the muddy, rocky creek, “HELP ME!”
the person continued, the tone sounded familiar as if i heard it before, I started shaking,
the ranger shone his torch that direction as fast as he could. The closer we got the louder
the sound became, and on that night you would never believe what we had discovered.