WIDE AWAKE; a creepypasta series

Prologue

The first frost of the season was nothing but an omen of dispair for those who knew the Woods family. Not one person could expect something of such a prestigious bloodline, but tragedy struck those who deserved it the most. Some found that God gave the hardest battles to his strongest soldiers, but God doesn't exist and sometimes it felt as though Jeff didn't either.

He stared into the mirror for almost an hour, the static that captured his brain would not make him do anything he wasn't already planning. He dragged his fingertips down the rough, barely healed burns down his face and grinned, it was time he took matters into his own hands.

A seraded combat knife lay on the counter, it's handle was a deep red, lined with gold. His father's favourite, it must've been normal for a man like him to keep weapons for fun, he had no fear, no fear of man at least. That didn't change the fact that he should fear the man which he looks down on, the one who has nothing to lose, the one which he calls his son.

His hair was long and dark brown, the tips burnt still from the fire that burned his face, his parents didn't care enough to get him a haircut. He got many more pity points, looking the way he did. He took the knife by it's handle, studying what he saw in the reflection of the clean blade, it had never been used for its proper purpose; combat.

His father used it to carve into wood or stone, careless with the blade. The blade had been replaced multiple times, this one hasn't been used since it's latest touch up. But if his father used it for what he perceived to be "art", then it was perfectly understandable for him to do the same thing.

He closed his eyes tight before bringing the blade to his face, opening them once more to watch. He placed the blade in his mouth and slid it sideways, cutting into the soft flesh that protected his mouth so well. He cut up his cheek, his hands shaking as he felt the pain that came with it.

He hadn't realized just how many nerves there were in a human's face, but it made sense considering how close to the brain it was. One side of his face was done, blood leaked down and onto the front of his sweater and into the sink, staining the pearly white porcelain which his mother had spent so much time and effort picking out for a bathroom she never used.

Blood covered the blade of his knife and he sighed, he could no longer see his reflection in the blade now that it was smeared with blood. He looked in the mirror and gave an audible laugh before sinking the knife into his other cheek, cutting quicker than before. Each drop of blood made a sound that echoed through the washroom, if only water was that thick, it would make the same satisfying sound as the last.

He took great pleasure, smearing his own blood across the counter, ruining yet another thing his mother paid so much attention to. If ONLY she had taken such care in raising him, then maybe she would be allowed to sleep peacefully. But she wasn't going anywhere peaceful, she would have a sleep that kept nightmares in it for the rest of eternity.

He brought his hands to his face, feeling them slide across the thick, red blood that continued to leave his cheeks. Then he heard footsteps, loud and aggressive, those that belonged to his mother, angry that he'd made such a racket.

"Jeffery Alan Woods what-" She stopped in her tracks, eyes wide with fear as she made eye contact with her beautiful son. He grinned the widest he'd ever grinned before, still gripping his father's combat knife.

"Aren't I beautiful, Mommy?" He murmured, he watched her lips tremble before she spoke, the softest she'd ever spoken to him in his entire life.

"Y-yes.. Jeff, you are so.. so beautiful..." She began, tears began to prick at her eyes and roll down her cheeks. "Let me go get your father, I'm sure he'll love to see what you've made, just stay here."