This is a fanfc about SlenderMan.
Enjoy!
"Well it was good talking to ya, maybe we can get together for a barbecue next week." Jim said over his shoulder to me as he turned and flopped akwardly down the hallway. He was old and couldn't control most of hs body, but he was still a nice guy.
I turned back to my laptop to see the screen blank. I didn't remember turning it off, but all signs of power said no. I shrugged it off and packed up for the night, getting ready to go home to a nice warm meal in my stomach and a queen size bed. My watch said it was 9:24, but since there weren't any windows I couldn't see outside or what the weather was like.
Outside, the wind was starting to blow gently, whistling through the trees and soaring across the lakes in the forest beyond the city. A sparrow knived through the air in a panicked frenzy, trying to find its nest before night fell. I stopped walking to watch it flutter above my head. It suddenly gave a squeal of recognition as it saw its nesting place and began to dive toward its family. Only a few feet away from the tree, an enormous raven jetted out from the shadows of the forest and struck the sparrow down, sending blood spraying through the night. The sparrow fell onto the sidewalk, where it lay for a few seconds before the raven tackled it and slashed its throat, delivering the kill blow before dragging it back into the shadows.
The wind picked up and I shuddered, dragging my coat around my shoulders to keep out the cold. Streetlights began to click on along the sidewalks, giving me lightsource besides the dim green glow of my watch, naming the time 9:30 exactly. A a clocktower began to ring off in the distance, each loud roar bearing much greif and pain. The city of Gabrile was a city of greif and pain. No ones life was fair here. Theives lurked in the alleyways, most people slept with guns under their pillows, and no police buildings existed anywhere. Rats scrambled in the night, tomcats prowled, and beggars dragged themselves through trash and dirty water running in the gutters. Over three quarters of the citys population was diseased, and the hospital, which had had six floors blown out in an explosion, used dirty surgical tools and untrained doctors.
I continued to the edge of Gabrile, to the large city gates which were made of rotting planks and rusting iron bars. I gave the left one a push with my foot and it creaked open noisily, scattering rust and sawdust on the ground. I continued on until I reached a second gate with a large seal in the shape of a hydra, the three heads twisting around a sword stuck in its chest. The seal shines gold in the moolight and the stone wall soars into the sky. The silver plated bars casts light in stripes, and there is a lock hanging from the hydras tail, holding the gate in place. I unlock the gate and slip inside, being sure to lock the gate behind me before leave. I walk up a cobbled path to the streets of Rivervue. Trees sway in the gentle breeze and petals from flowering plants swirl in the warm night sky. Lights glow in the windows of the manors along the main street, and the stars wink at me from the higher worlds. Laughter rises in the distance. I grin and set my breifcase down next to a picnic table to relax for a while.
Rivervue is my hometown, a place of peace and luxury, where we shun all dangers in order to keep our residents safe. Most of us choose to keep out of Gabrile, but there are ones who are determined to advance their career, and they travel through the city of Gabrile to a small block of colleges called Nambeck Institute. I am learning at the Nambeck Institute to become a lawyer. Since Rivervue is a town that is completely self-funded, and everyone has what they need, I am planning on moving to another city where I can get that job —and keep it.
I stand and walk off towards my manor. About halfway to my house, I hear something.
PRYCE
I look around to see where the voice is coming from, but all I see are an art gallery and a business suit shop. I turn to resume my walk when the voice returns.
PRYCE. DO NOT GO YET
I stop and stare around but the only people I see are Van Gogh in one of his self portraits and a blank-faced mannequin wearing a black tux and a red tie. I turn to go, but not before taking one last suspicious glance at the mannequin.
And then its hand reached out toward my face, breaking through the glass display case.
