Summary: AU. Because Sebastian Michaelis is the guy you want to call when you're dead set on scaring the absolute crap out of someone-especially if they have a vendetta against cats. T for some strong language...and ridiculous similes/metaphors.

A/N: There was a short story about Slenderman on deviantart that inspired this, for some strange reason.

Silverware Services

Shut up.

Shut the hell up!

Shuffling against the roughness of his bedroom's floor, he tried to urge his heart to stop beating so fucking loud because he was pretty damn sure that He would be able to hear it. Impossible, right? That someone would be able to hear your heartbeat? But Julian honestly believed that this...this freak had the ability. He didn't even know how long he had been evading The Freak, but he knew that it wouldn't be long before He discovered his location. He resisted the impulse to slam his head against the underside of his mattress for his almost masochistic adoration of a good scare that blocked any form of reason he had in his head and subdued it. He was, for the lack of better words, a brave coward: charging headfirst into the darkness, aware of what danger lies in wait for him, despite the rapid thundering in his ears warning of the horrors ready to pounce. It was the experience that attracted him, an experience that would be memorable, yet horrifying. But whatever had been chasing him...he did not want to meet.

According to his closest friend, The Freak-he affectionately dubbed-was some sort of entity that protected all that was feline in form. He was most aware during evening hours, and the only way to divert His attention from you was to stay hidden when you were in His presence, and move slowly, but surely when you were away from Him. Never, under any circumstances, run from Him. Maylene never did clarify on the reason why, however, she strongly advised against it. The next day, at his house, he received a note that was supposedly from The Freak. It had claimed that He knew "what unscrupulous sins he had committed," and Julian was sure that his chain was being yanked. How coincidental that some fictitious being happened to write to him on the same day that his friend attempted to scare him into soiling himself with some bullshit story. Julian had called her, told her to stop playing games. He felt his balls shrivel into nothingness when she revealed that she wasn't even in town to deliver the note.

Then, the power cut off.

Of course, Julian had squealed like a pork sausage begging to be released from the heat of a microwave. Of all the cliché things to occur, the electricity had to give out on him. Right when his father and stepmother conveniently went out for dinner, which left him by his lonesome with his pug, Maddy. The ugly little thing scuttled on the hardwood floor, her nails-long overdue for a trimming-making odd clicking noises that sent Julian's imagination on a wild ride. The noises only reminded him of a terrible gaming incident where he had to fight the female demon (who looked like she could pass for The Grudge girl's sister) who kidnapped his character's sister in total darkness. She had morphed into a huge spider, and the treading of her many legs made horrible-

Without warning, a butter knife pierced through the mattress (his off-topic thoughts, as well), and landed with a thunk between his legs.

Clamping his hands over his mouth to prevent him from screaming, Julian tried to remain as quiet as he could. The Freak was trying to lure him out by nearly making him into a Eunuch; there was a good chance that He didn't know where his ebony-haired victim was approximately. However, it was a possibility that the entity knew that he was in the area. The six-inch blade-to the bespectacled boy's astonishment-withdrew itself from the plush of the floor, went through the small slit that it made upon its entrance, and returned to its owner. Having closed his eyes, the frightened fifteen-year-old only heard the unknown stalker's footsteps retreat into the hallway. He exhaled silently, placing his pale, quivering hand over his stampeding heart. His glasses were starting to fog up from all the sweat gathering at his forehead. Once he reached out to remove them, there was the faint sound of metal grinding against metal.

Agonizingly slow, the sound got louder by each second that passed.

Scrape.

Scrape...

Then silence. Complete and utter silence.

And at the moment when Julian thought it was safe to resume breathing again, the bed was numerously assaulted by The Freak's spotless silverware. Each lethal fork and knife was within a hairbreadth's reach of the boy's vital limbs and appendages; he found it very hard to contain himself, in all senses of the meaning. With a mighty scream that would rival all of the female population, Julian's voice betrayed him. His body didn't even allow him to register the recklessness of his actions. Hurriedly, he rolled out from under the bed-missing another barrage of shiny cutlery-and bolted for the door. In his haste, he saw only a slender silhouette dressed in black, His pale face accentuated by the lamplight that shone brightly outside the window.

Julian ran down the hallway, his surroundings changing drastically. He didn't know if the changes were due to him sweating all of the fluids out of his body, hence causing him to be delirious from dehydration, or if The Freak had any influence over reality. Everything suddenly felt heavier: the air, his clothes, parts that he didn't even want to mentally mention currently...

Soon enough, the hallway came to an end. There was a picture of his father and his real mother placed on the wall that he passed when he took a sharp left. The Freak's dining tools collided with the picture once Julian had turned the corner. They followed him, guiding themselves after the screaming boy, unlimited by their master's will. Stabbing themselves into the walls, and rending anything unfortunate enough to stand in their path, the supernatural silverware would not stop their reign of terror until they had the fleeing human's head.

What the fuck do I do! the green-eyed teen frantically thought, trying to recall any other warnings Maylene had told him.

"Well, 'e 'ates dogs!" she had said, in that god-awful accent of hers. That was it! He would need to get Maddy! That is, if he could make it downstairs...

Julian's face became acquainted with a broad chest, and he was knocked back from the impact. A stabbing pain enveloped his backside as he shook his head to recover from the shock. A velvety chuckle entered his ears as he glanced up to see who he had bumped into. The man was as pale as he was, black hair styled handsomely to frame his face. His rust-colored eyes regarded the acquiescent pug in his gloved hands with a disgust that a person only had when they were truly annoyed with existing in the same space as another. He was dressed sharply in a crisp, black vest and slacks, complete with a tailcoat. His dress shoes were impeccably free of any mess, Julian absentmindedly noticed, when the man executed a purposeful kick once he dropped Maddy. He putted her like a football, a satisfied smirk crossing his face as the pug went yelping down the hallway. He then lowered his gaze to the stammering boy near his feet.

"I trust that you received my note, Mister McAllister?" he asked, eloquent and poised. The boy nodded furiously. "Good, good. You know what to do, then?"

Julian nodded once more, then got on all fours and started barking like a dog.

Dear Mr. Julian McAllister,

It has come to my attention that you have, on countless accounts, assaulted my client's cat. While I have the urge to ponder on why you have felt the need to torture such a perfect, innocent creature, I realize that it is my duty to remain professional, even with my client's nuisance. I know what unscrupulous sins you have committed against these wonderful creations, and I have no qualms against you, personally, sir. However, allow me to be frank: should my client report another instance of your horrid attacks, I will be forced to act. Tread with care. Should we meet, remember these simple instructions:

1.) Get on your hands and knees.

2.) Bark like a dog.

Sincerely,

Sebastian Michaelis, Employee of Silverware Services: Anti-Bullying Agency

(And Extremely Devout Cat-lover.)

So...who do you think sent Sebastian on my O.C.'s trail?