I do not own the Creeper, Jack, Jack Jr. or any other characters. I only wrote the story…
The wind rustled the old hay bales and filled the barn with their scent. His entire body was numb, similar to the feeling you get in your leg after sitting on it for a long while. After awhile the feeling returned after the annoying pins-and-needles feeling went away. He could hear voices, first just echoes then they slowly grew louder and clearer as his keen sense of hearing returned to its fullest.
"This thing isn't real…" "Just a fake….."
He narrowed his eyes at these voices. They were obviously young teenagers with nothing but arrogance, but the next voice he heard make him bare his sharp teeth with anger.
"About 23 more days….give or take a day or two…."
He recognized this voice as the one of the old man who had supposedly killed him 23 years ago. This man he wanted dead. He wanted the feel of his flesh ripping between his teeth and his blood running down his throat. The thought of revenge made him want to jump from the wall where he hung like a museum display and rip the old man's limbs off, one by one. But he knew that patience was a virtue and that while these kids were here, he could do nothing. The sound of footsteps growing fainter made him anxious; he heard the last pair of footsteps shuffle out of the barn, the old man's. He waited for a few minutes then tried to move his arm, the one that had not been torn off in the pickup accident. He started to remember his last 23 days awake. A large yellow vehicle, children and their fear-scent. He closed his eyes as he remembered the ones he had killed and devoured, then the ones he had frightened into insanity. He finally found the strength to pull himself free of the wall and slowly crawled over behind the large harpoon that had caused him much grief before. He heard footsteps enter the barn and he took the risk of peeking behind the harpoon gun. It was the old one's son, who had aided him in bringing down the Creeper. His eyes burned with anger and he crouched down, ready to strike as the boy took one look at where the Creeper used to hang
"Pa! It's gone!" He exclaimed.
The man ran towards the harpoon, probably wanting to get ready for him, the Creeper thought. As the man ran up next to the harpoon he saw what was waiting for him and just as his eyes grew wide with fear, the Creeper smiled maliciously, flashing razor-sharp teeth. He jumped at him and held him down, despite being thin enough to show each bone clearly. He bit into the man's neck and felt blood gush out of the wound, he pressed down on the front of the man's neck, closing off his wind pipe. He felt the man struggle and gasp for air. His eyes looked like they were going to pop right out of the sockets and his face was turning blue. His body convulsed violently and gave one last struggle before lying still for the rest of eternity. The Creeper looked at what he had done and smiled triumphantly. He then proceeded to devour the man's left arm and both of his legs, happy with the feel of fresh flesh between his teeth. After he had had his fill he waited for his limbs to regenerate then stood up and stretched them out. He looked around and recognized the weed field he had snatched the young blonde boy up so many years ago. His head snapped around at the familiar shuffling of the old man's footsteps. He quickly ducked around behind the barn and peeked around the side, waiting.
The old man stepped out of the swinging barn doors and stared in horror at his son's mutilated body. Tears of anger and hatred filled his eyes. He grabbed a spear with a corkscrew looking tip on it, the one he had stabbed the Creeper with repeatedly in the chest with last feeding. He looked around, his eyes filled with pure rage.
"Come on out and show yourself you horrible demon!" He yelled, his old voice booming. This was going to be to easy, The Creeper thought. He went back behind the barn and flexed his large, bat-like wings to test them. They had grown back while he was feasting. He jumped high in the air and opened up the wings, they carried him well enough. He glided silently high over the old man's head, hoping that his shadow was seen, the fear-scent would be delicious on this one. He dived down, right on to the old man. He snatched him up then took off again, feeling the old man struggle but his old limbs were not strong enough to over-power the Creeper. His flight was fast and he landed in front of the old abandoned factory that he took in as his lair. The old man tried to run away once his feet hit the ground, but the Creeper's strong grip kept him in place. They walked through the old, flooded halls, knocking away cobwebs along the way.
"Let me go you monster!" Yelled the old man as the Creeper threw him into an empty, windowless room. "You killed my sons! Now I'm going to kill you, you bastard!" with that he charged at the Creeper and tried to knock him over, but the Creeper was to strong for him. He swatted him to the side as if he were swatting an annoying bug away. The old man crashed against the wall, lying motionless on the ground. The Creeper smiled and walked away, leaving the old man more crippled than he was before. He entered a room where a pile of dissected and preserved bodies lay. He look towards a rack of crude, handmade weapons and picked up a dagger, sharp in his hands and crafted out of bone. He walked back into the room where the old man lie, waiting, looking up at the Creeper. He waited for that dagger to strike him, either fatally or just somewhere to cause him pain.
"Please….make it quick…I want to see my sons….." gasped the old man.
The Creeper only smiled that malicious smile of his and held the dagger pointed downwards. He threw it off to the side and grabbed the old man's jacket. He dragged him into another room; he had plans for this one. The old man made no attempt to struggle; he had accepted death and felt no reason to fight back anymore. The Creeper dropped him in front of what looked like a metal examination table, although this one was covered in dried blood and dehydrated organs. He dropped the old man, knowing he wouldn't try to escape, and went over to an old wooden chest. He rummaged through the chest; it was filled to the brim with weapons and torture tools. He took out a rather strange looking contraption. It was made of rusted metal, giving it a very rough appearance. It looked like a saw, but attached on the end were three rusty, bloodstained knives. He walked over to the old man and picked him up easily, then set him on top of the table. He held the contraption over the old man's head, grinning ear to ear, and then plunged the strange saw into the old mans chin. He screamed in agony as blood poured from his chin and mouth, this was horrible pain, not enough to kill him though. The Creeper twisted the saw around, causing more pain and gushing more blood. He pulled it out very slowly, and then ran one of the knife blades under the old man's eye, creating a cut that dripped with crimson blood. He took the bloody tool and stabbed the old man in the stomach, above his belly button. He knew this would kill him once he pulled it out, so he let go of the handle, leaving it impaled in the old man's intestines. He walked into the prison room and grabbed the dagger, examining it, making sure it wasn't damaged. He stood over the old one and sliced his belly open, cutting only the flesh to reveal all of his vital organs. The old man's fear scent was overpowering and so was the stench of his fresh, oozing blood. The man screamed in horrible agony, the blood was covering every inch of his body, soaking his torn clothes and the dissection table. The Creeper smiled at his pain, and bent his head down an inch away from his organs and began sniffing. His nostrils flared open to take in even more of the scents. He sniffed every organ individually, working his way down from the old man's heart, down to his penetrated intestines. He repeated the process working his way up, ignoring the blood being splattered on his face from the old mans convulsions and thrashing. He stopped at the man's heart, which had an absolutely delicious scent; he bent even lower down and licked at the still beating heart. He looked the old man right in the eyes and slowly took his heart in his mouth, tearing it away as slowly as possible. The man cried out in pain and agony, his eyes began to grow pale and glazed over, his body thrashed around, making him grow weaker by the second. His muscles started to relax and he lay his head down on the table and stared up at the ceiling. The Creeper swallowed his heart in one gulp and smiled in triumph, revenge had been sweet….as sweet as the blood from the old one's heart.
…more? If I get enough reviews I will write more on the Creeper….I just need ideas…
Thanks for reading!