A/N: This is my CreepyPasta character.

Disclaimer: I do not own the actual story of Slenderman but I do own this story. I don't own the CreepyPasta website either.

The trees creaked against the harshly frigid breeze of the moon bathed forest. The area seemed eerie due to the whistling wind and screeching crows. My path is usually scarred with death and decay wherever I go but tonight seemed different.

I was just on the nightly routine of roaming the forest for signs of human life. The pages were already pinned to the trees and various abandoned structures so I just had to wait.

While my father has chosen to attack in every other dark forest, he gave this one to me. I find it strange that he would give his only son an entire forest as a birthday present. I guess it just runs in the family though.

In the Slender family, your senses are increased 20 times more than humans. Humans could have better senses if only they would believe they could. The mind is the center of everything in your body. If you nurture it, you can unlock the secret abilities hiding within it. Few people let their power show.

I don't think the man could tell I was there but I knew he was there.

If you've heard about my family, you surly know about our outstanding height and build. I'm sort of a crossbred between human and demon. I am 6.3" and extremely pale (according to humans). I actually have a face unlike my father. I wear dark shades to cover my eyes that are titled as 'forbidden from humans to see'.

Anyways, I heaved myself up a tree and perched on one of the branches and eyed down the man in the forest. He didn't see me since he was too interested and confused about one of the pages. I jumped down without making a sound and kicked him to the ground and pinned. It was quite pitiful yet funny to watch actually.

I proceeded to uncoil the tentacles from my back while I was holding him down. "Damn it, stop squirming." I decided to swing one of my legs on the other side of him so I could have more force to keep him down on the ground. The tentacles slithered into his mouth and down his throat and pierced his lung making a large enough hole to rip his heart out. I always enjoy the sound of the ribcage cracking on the way back out of the throat.

I threw the beating heart to the crows, careful not to drizzle any blood on my special waistcoat. I hate the idea of wearing a full suit in the middle of summer so I wear a specially tailored waitcoat and a colared polo instead. That was the first kill of the month since people have grown bored of nature over the years.

I stood and slipped my hands into my pockets and walked back into the forest with the torn page in my back pocket.