September Scyther : Creepypasta Backstory (UNDERGOING EDITING)

Chapter 3 (edited)

September stayed on the ground, forcing back tears and ignoring the stinging sensation from his open wounds.

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He took this abuse for two years, never saying a word to anyone outside the home. He soon came to detest hearing his name, it was what led to the beatings. He couldn't bear to look at himself anymore, always wearing a sweatshirt to cover his many scars that covered his chest, back, shoulders, and arms. Which were also riddled with fresh wounds and bruises. Finally, after one particularly harsh day of beatings, he'd had enough; it was time to leave.
Late that night, he snuck out of his room and grabbed a large knife from the kitchen, sneaking up to his parents room. He opened the door silently and snuck over to the bed, slicing the man's throat open first. He then moves the woman and finally the two girls. After watching the life fade out of all of them individually, he broke open the basement and grabbed his scythe before running out of the house.
He knew he had to get his revenge quickly, before he was caught; he searched the city's darkened allies for his original rival, ready to finish things once and for all. Finally, he found a man smoking a cigar; the hand holding the cigar, his right, was missing two fingers, the last two. September hefted his scythe and walked in, murmuring five soft words for only himself to hear, "I think it's harvest time..."

His parents' killer barely had time to look up in surprise before the scythe flashed through the air, cutting through skin and bone and sending the man's head rolling off into a shadowed corner. He walked out of the alley, and, having seen the flashing lights and heard the sirens, he knew the police were here. Lasers trained on his chest over his heart the second he walked out of the alley and he was told to drop his weapon, the scythe.

September's mission was finished though, so he raised the scythe, hearing five separate shots go off and feeling the pain. He assumed he'd died instantly, but he could still hear the police sirens. When he opened his eyes a tall, faceless figure stood in front of him. A deep voice resonated through his mind a moment later, "Come with me, child.." and the figure held out a hand.

September took the creatures hand and suddenly, they were in the woods, dark mist swirling around them and the whispers of spirits could be heard. He looked around in surprise, then looked at the blank face of the creature that saved him. Once again, he heard the voice in his mind, "What is your name, child...?"

. . .

My name...?

. . .

What is my name....?

. . .

"Scyther.... September Scyther...."