Creepypasta: 24 Hours with Hoodie

Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Adam's POV:

I did not want to wake up. My body felt heavy and everything hurt, like someone was using me as their own personal punching bag or something, the feeling made my chest feel tight, and hard to breathe. I didn't like the feeling and I could hear myself whimper in my sleep. I felt so tired, yet so aware at the same time, it was weird. Almost like laying on top of pins and needles. My shoulder was killing me, and I just wanted to dive deep into the comfort of sleep. It would be so easy, my eyelids felt too heavy to open anyway, and they seemed glued together, so tightly, that the thought was so very tempting. It would take a lot to jump start me into getting up and out of bed. Not after that terrible dream.

The sound of something slamming, jolted me right up into a sitting position. Shouting and grabbing at my shoulder as pain shot down my arm at the sudden movement. 'Okay! Maybe some of it wasn't a dream!'I winced seeing my shoulder slumping at an odd angle. My eyes quickly jumping around the room I was in, scanning everything in sight, before letting out a sigh of relief. I was in my room. I don't know how, but I was in my room. Looking down at myself, I seen that I hadn't even bothered in getting dressed for bed, or to get underneath the covers. I mean I still had my shoes on, and there was still blood staining my clothes. I started to hyperventilate at the sight of it. I had really hoped that, that part of the night had been a dream. My panicked eyes landed on a gray t-shirt, and black sweatpants the laid innocently on my nightstand. By this time I was positively sure that it wasn't I who had put them there.

"Brian?...." I asked out loud, looking around my room again.

The squeaky sound of my bedroom door opening answered my call, as Brian walked through the door. He walked over to my bed and I realized that I could not hear his footsteps, and he was moving slowly toward me, like one would a startled animal. I probably wouldn't look so startled if he wasn't approaching me wearing the creepy ski mask again. I'm kind of glad I don't live with anyone, he would no doubtingly scare my roommate if I had one. The side of my bed shifted and sat down on it. "Give me your arm." He said, his tone slightly quiet, but it still held that monotone feel to it. Black leather gloved hand extended out toward me. He was no longer wearing his yellow hoodie, which showed off his plain black t-shirt. He must have taken the hoodie of when we got to my house.

I intended to question him, but found myself lifting my arm up. Which really isn't like me. I question everything.

"Your other arm." He corrected, indicating my injured arm.

I slowly turned my body to show that I was willing to give it to him in this manner, instead of physically lifting it, because dude, would that hurt like hell. I barely felt his fingertips as they pressed in to my arm, almost like my nerve were dull. 'I must still be in shock or something.'I mentally noted. "What....happened?" I finally asked, too many question racing for the surface, and that was the one that slipped out first.

"Elaborate." He mumbled, still lightly prodding my shoulder and arm.

"Uh." I paused, trying to think of the question, and wince slightly as my hearing drifted of to the sound of white noise, that faded as quickly as it started. Like something that was trying to latch on but was back off. The sound made all my question blur together again. Knowing how my arm had gotten hurt in the first place wasn't helping either. "How did I get here?" I finally settled on wanting to know how I ended up back in my house.

"That should be obvious." He said, not really answering my question.

I could tell he didn't want to talk, but I wanted some answers. "Oh. Then how did we get out of there?"