CreepyPasta poems (on hold)

The monster in the woods

Hello there, new victim.
I guess you want a page.
Eight are scattered around these woods,
And I've murdered more than the plague.

Can you hurry?
I have business to attend to.
But first I need to decide,
Do you want an arm or a leg cut through?

If I cut an arm you would bleed out,
But if you lost a leg you would be slow...
I could watch from a distance,
Waiting for you to let go.

The pages could be covered in blood,
And that would never do.
You see, they are sacred to me.
And you have eight to get through.

My child, stop and think.
When were you first chased?
When you took the pages, that's right.
As soon as they were displaced.