A/N: When I first started this, I didn't know too much about Slender. I'd only played the game once or twice (and scared myself shitless, might I add). But the other day I started watching Marble Hornets, and I'm hooked. I mean, I'm only on Entry #58, but I love it, and I totally recommend it to anyone interested in Slender.

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As always, I do not share any views expressed by any characters in this story. And I own nothing in this story, except for Alyson Ward, her father, and Danny.

Okay, please read, review, and enjoy!

Danny had stopped the truck in the park. The engine died with a deep grumble, ending with a loud pop. Alyson wasn't ready. She'd known Danny for years. They'd been fishing with their fathers; they'd gone camping with a small group from school; they'd made out under the bleachers on Halloween. Alyson had regretted the last part soon after.

Without the heaters on, Alyson began to shiver lightly. She'd worn a thin sweater, and no jacket. Alyson had assumed they would be somewhere warm most of the night. Danny slipped an arm around her, attempting to pull her into his shoulder, and she clicked her seatbelt off. She scooted over, laying her head on his collar. Alyson wasn't ready. She curled and uncurled her fingers into her loose-fitting jeans. Her nails caught her eye briefly. They were blue, and glowed in the dark. The color nearly matched that of her eyes, actually.

Alyson and Danny weren't dating. Danny just had dibs on her. They'd only been out a few times together in a romantic way, and they'd made out three times – including Halloween when Danny was a mummy wrapped in toilet paper, and Alyson was an elephant, her favorite animal. She'd had to remove her trunk in order to kiss Danny, and lost it afterwards, leaving her to look more like a mouse.

They sat there for a minute, Danny slowly rubbing her shoulder in an effort to warm her. Alyson shuddered, more in nervousness than coldness. Alyson wasn't ready.

Danny turned to her, hesitantly kissing Alyson's mouth. At first she was non-receptive, just sitting there with her lips sealed tight. However, she decided that it would be the social convention to pucker up and give Danny what he wanted. He was her ride home, after all. Danny raised a hand and tenderly fondled her right breast, feeling her nipple through her shirt and bra. "You're cold."

'And uncomfortable,' she thought. With a small smile, she shook her head. "I'm fine."

He smiled, and breathed a sigh before leaning in to kiss her again. Danny pulled her closer, sliding his hands down her sides, and Alyson tensed, her breath choppy. She backed away from him, into her own seat again, and he just stared at her. Finally, he groaned and said in a low, mostly-calm voice, "Damn it, I hate it when you do that."

With a shrug, Alyson stated, "I'm not ready."

Danny sighed deeply, leaning his elbow on the window. "You're never ready." He started the truck once more. "Want me to take you home?"

She hesitated. Alyson did feel guilty, but it didn't overpower her anxiety about staying in the truck with him. Shaking her head, Alyson opened the passenger door. "I'll walk." Her house was just on the other side of the park.

"No wait," Danny urged. She turned to look at him, her legs dangling out the truck. "It's too dark and too cold. Lemme drive you. It'll take two minutes."

Alyson half smiled. Danny really wasn't a bad guy. But the thought of him driving her brought about the act of the Goodnight Kiss, which was inevitable if he took her home. "You're sweet," she told him. "I do like you, Danny." With that, she hopped out, pulling her purse strap over her shoulder and closing the heavy door behind her. She took a few steps, turning back to wave. She could tell he was chuckling, and he gave a small wave in return, backing the truck up.

After retrieving her flashlight, Alyson flicked light onto the tan, crackly grass and started walking. Honestly, she wasn't too sure which direction her house was in, but anything was better than spending another awkward minute with Danny. The light of her flashlight didn't burn as brightly as it used to, which was surprising, because she rarely used it. Alyson never walked home in the dark (at least not by herself).

Danny had parked the truck in the sparse line of trees on the outskirts of a large field. Alyson was now trudging through said field, the ground soft and the grass brushing her thighs. She wondered how this could really be considered a park, and why no one had been out there recently to mow it.

Suddenly Alyson was homesick. She wanted to get home to cuddle up with her cats: Cheshire, Chester, and Jester. It was so late, her dad would have to be home by now. Alyson sighed to realize she even missed Danny, and maybe she should've just put up with him for a couple more minutes. She could've been home by now. Instead, she was freezing, and starting to feel lost. She reached out, letting the grass tickle the palm of her hand, attempting to calm herself down.

This was silly, she decided. She was missing home, missing people, missing her breath now and again. Get a grip, Ward. Alyson heard her Gym coach's voice in her head. Get a grip, Ward. Yeah, that's what she'd said when Alyson had a mini panic attack because a girl opened the wrong shower curtain. You all have the same parts, or whatever. Not like you've got something she doesn't see when she looks in the mirror.

"Focus," Alyson whispered to herself. 'Why am I having these thoughts now? Just because I'm a little freaked out to be walking home in the dark? Stay calm, you're probably almost there.'

"Alyson."

She turned quickly, looking in all directions. That sounded kind of like Danny's voice, but different. With a sigh, she nodded. Of course he would follow her out here. Alyson was partially relieved when she saw what looked like a flashlight coming from the distance. She picked up her pace, fast walking back in that direction. "Danny, thank god. I thought I was los-"

"Come here."

The light steadied, as if Danny was standing completely motionless. Alyson slowed a bit, squinting into the white light. Danny's voice sounded different, definitely. "Danny?" she asked sheepishly. Her own flashlight flickered, and she studied it before beating it into her palm. "Damn," she mumbled. The light burned out, and Alyson found herself dropping it.

"Come here."

Alyson narrowed her eyes at the light which was coming closer. She may've been imagining it, but it seemed to be getting brighter and brighter. "Danny, don't point your light directly in my eyes. I can't see." The light grew before dimming out completely with a dull buzz. Alyson was left blind from the residual light, seeing red spots everywhere. She rubbed her eyes, forgetting about her eyeliner. "Damn, Danny. What kinda flashlight is that?"

When she looked back up, Danny wasn't standing there. In the pale moonlight, Alyson could see the outline of a very tall man – perhaps eight foot tall. That couldn't be right. Her eyes were just playing tricks on her, she decided. "Sorry, I thought you were my friend," she told the stranger.

The tall man then extended his arms, which were freakishly long. One arm alone was as big as Alyson, herself. "Come here," he said, and this time, he didn't sound like Danny. His voice was low and smooth, but Alyson thought she heard static when he talked.

Alyson was simultaneously terrified and entranced. She didn't know this huge man, but he had open arms. Alyson was confused and cold. She hesitantly stepped towards him, and murmured, "Will you take me home?" There was no response, but she continued anyway. Something inside of her was trying to fight, but her body felt limp. It was as if she were a marionette puppet, and this man was pulling her strings closer, and closer.

Just a few feet from the strange man, Alyson felt something warm trickle down her front lip. She paused to reach a hand up, touching her fingers to her face. Her nose was bleeding. Alyson's heart beat accelerated, and her breathing became audible. When she glanced up once more, all sound canceled out, save a high ping that rang through the air. Her head felt heavy, and her eyes felt as though they may explode. Even so, she came closer to the man with outstretched arms.

The closer Alyson drew to the man, the more prominent the sound of static became. At first, it sounded like a frizzy TV with the volume turned down, and the volume only became louder and louder. As she stood directly in front of the man, she thought she heard him speaking, but it was lost as a deep moan under the static and the high pitched squeal that still shattered her ears.

Alyson fell into his arms, and he encased her in a feather-light embrace. Her heart steadied, and she felt calm. This stranger was warm and inviting. Alyson couldn't feel her body, but she wanted to run her hands over the soft fabric of his…suit? It felt smooth against her face.

Her toasty encounter was short-lived, however. Alyson began to feel a growing pressure from all sides. Air was being pushed out of her as everything closed in. Alyson was frozen, stagnant. She wanted to call for help, but couldn't even feel her tongue. The white noise fried her brain, and her eyes fell closed. Alyson felt sharp pains in her chest, and she assumed two things: her heart was protesting the loss of oxygen, or her ribs were snapping. Perhaps both.

Suddenly, everything was white and yellow, like bleached sunlight. Alyson didn't feel anymore, not after she dropped to the ground. She was mush. She was nothing.

Edward Harvey called 911 when he found Alyson Ward lying in the park at 11 o'clock. He'd been out trying to shoot squirrels – illegally – when he found the young woman in a heap on the ground. The 911 operator told Ed not to move her once he discovered she was still breathing. When paramedics carried Alyson away, their boots squished into the ground, her blood pooling up from the mud.

Alyson had four broken ribs, a broken left arm and a fractured right arm. Even so, she had no bruises, no scars. "It's like she was broken from the inside out," her doctor had said. After Alyson was discharged from the hospital, she stayed in bed for weeks. She only allowed her dad to come in her room to bring a tray of food for breakfast and dinner. Otherwise, she wanted to be left alone. Cheshire, Chester, and Jester meowed outside her door the first few days, aching to see her. Alyson's dad didn't let them in, thinking they'd lay on her arm and re-break it, or something.

At first, Alyson didn't talk about anything. Especially not about what happened that night. Everyone assumed she'd been mugged, but the doctor was happy to report there were no signs of a sexual assault. Alyson's dad was happy to hear that.

One day, Danny dropped by to see her, but Alyson's dad wouldn't let him in her room. She didn't want to see him, anyway. Danny just left her a card and a small bouquet of black eyed susans and daisies. Her dad wasn't too keen on the black eyed susans, thinking it was a jab at Alyson's condition (even though she didn't have a black eye). She only stared at the vase of flowers on her nightstand. Alyson couldn't open the card herself, so her dad read it to her. Alyson wasn't listening.

It was snowing heavily outside. Alyson was sweating under the electric blanket draped over her, but she didn't complain. Her dad was trying his best. He'd come in with a bowl of chicken soup – most likely from a can – and he was getting a spoonful ready to feed to her, when Alyson mumbled in a strained voice, "Why didn't he kill me?"

Her dad paused, lowering the spoon back into the bowl. This was her first time speaking of her attack. "What do you mean?" he asked, setting the bowl on the nightstand by her vase of flowers.

Alyson looked at him with watery, red eyes. Her throat was scratchy and dry. On top of being severely injured, she'd gotten a fever from laying outside in the cold all night. "Why didn't he just kill me? Why did he leave me alive?" She swallowed, but had nothing to swallow with, so the muscles of her throat only ached at the effort.

Silence passed over them for a minute before he responded, "Maybe he thought he killed you. Ed said your breathing was real shallow when he found you." He reached out tentatively, pushing the damp, brown locks from her forehead. "I'm just so grateful you're okay." He rubbed his thumb in a tender swirl on her temple. "Want me to let the cats in? You could probably use some company other than me."

Alyson hesitated before nodding, and her father stood with a small smile, walking over to the door and opening it. All three cats were already laying there, awaiting their chance to see Alyson. Jester bolted in, leaping onto Alyson's bed without a second's notice. Chester stretched first before moseying in and meowing for permission to get up on the bed with Jester. Cheshire laid on the ground for a minute before getting up and moving to the bed like the others.

As if knowing about her condition, all three cats stayed around her legs, not bothering to come closer. Alyson's dad was thankful for that. He helped his daughter sit up, and started to feed her the soup he'd brought.

A/N: So, I've actually been doing my homework on Slenderman. Apparently, the more obsessed with him you are, the more obsessed he is with you. It's kind of like the advice I got from a librarian once: "If you're looking for something, you'll eventually find it." Part of me is a little scared, because I can't stop thinking about him. I'm reading the mythology and forums with people's experiences; I'm watching Marble Hornets almost nonstop. Eep.