Being a writer of horror stories can be quite difficult and those who read this probably are aware of this. But me myself I go to great lengths to make my self feel like the victim in the story or the one claiming the victim, but what happens when I get stuck in this mind set? Nothing good is all I can say. It's almost like I become a completely different person sometimes often waking up in places I've never been to or seen before. With this becoming a reoccurring thing I started getting nervous and extremely paranoid, I set up cameras in my bedroom to see what happens when I'm asleep. When I woke up the next morning I was, to my surprise, still in my bed. I checked the footage and everything was normal until around 4:56am, as soon as it hit this time the clock on the timer broke and then read 6:66am. I wasn't scared by this as every scary story cliche ever has "666" in it somewhere. But then I saw the window beside my bed open, a long inhuman arm reached in, grabbed the edge of the window, and pulled the rest of its body in. It was entirely white and from what I could see was either naked or wearing all white clothing. But it was tall at least seven feet tall, then I thought "am I actually becoming the victim from a horror story". Then I drew my attention back to the camera footage but everything seemed to be normal now not a creature in sight. I decided to take a break from my footage and get some food but when I opened my fridge I nearly vomited. The bodies of two young girls had fallen out of my fridge all having multiple stab wounds in their backs. I was gonna call the police until I looked down at my bloodstained clothes, "had I done this, had I become the killer in the plot?" I shivered at the thought when I noticed muddy boot prints on the floor. They had to be mine but I followed them anyways they led outside, and after losing sight of them for a while I found they led to s spot under an old withered tree. Then I heard whispering coming from seemingly nowhere saying over and over "it's your fault, you did this, you are a monster." Then I blacked out. I woke up gasping for air, and opened my eyes to see the white figure from the footage chocking me. He had only a mouth and he began to speak, "you, you call yourself a writer, but all you do is breed fear and cause people to become paranoid and stressed". "It's....my...j-job" I chocked out before he tightened his grip "causing fear in others isn't a job it's an excuse you made up to haunt people's dreams with your horrid creatures!". He then slammed me on the ground and put his foot on my chest crushing my ribs. He then spoke again "I'll let you continue your little game but you must pay a toll" I chuckled a little "let me guess you want my soul". "NO!" He shouted "I want your sanity", I thought for a second "why" he smiled wide "you claim to be insane in your stories correct? So why not stop lying to your audience and make it true". I thought about it more is it better to die or go insane? "Fine you have a deal" and as the words came out I faded out of consciousness. And now here I am rambling on to this so called doctor but he's not one I know this already. Doctor Geramia I believe was his name and all he keeps saying over and over is "this is the price you must pay" and everyday I relive the same horrible events. But maybe next time if I pick death it'll all end.
