A/N: Slender Man and Star Fox might sound like a weird combination, but it makes a little bit of sense if you ask me. James McCloud vanished (and may have died) under mysterious circumstances shortly before Star Fox 64, and Slender Man usually makes his victims disappear under mysterious circumstances too. To me, it sounded like an interesting way to combine two unrelated series that I enjoy.

I did have some ideas for rewriting this as a pure Star Fox fanfic, but I started writing this story over six months ago and have only just recently gotten it to posting quality. It's rough trying to post fanfics when you have a job and a house to take care of. I would really like to just post this now and move onto other projects. Not to mention I think now is a good time to post the story with it being Halloween and all :) I hope you all enjoy the story as much as I did writing it.

Chapter 1 – Stranded

"James! James! Incoming from the left!"

"I've got it! I've got it!"

Missile batteries sprout out of hatches on the mountains. They unleash a swarm of rockets on my Arwing and Peppy's. I fire up my boosters and fly as close as possible to the curving canyon walls, praying that the rockets crash into the rocks instead of me. Several explosions illuminate the dark valley behind me. Pebbles bounce off of my canopy, as I decide to risk a glance into one of my rearview mirrors. Good. I just see a lot of smoke and falling rock. No, wait! A missile flies out of the smoke straight towards me.

"Damn it!"

Slowing down to look back is all the missile needs to catch up. It gets alongside the right side of the Arwing and explodes in a bright flash of light. For a brief time I can't remember anything that happens. The bright light overwhelms me. I may have screamed out but I can't hear anything. All I remember is feeling a dull scraping sound along the right side of my ship. It's Peppy's voice that brings me back to reality.

"…James! You…okay? Saw…xplos…! …You…ok…?" Peppy's comm link image buzzes in and out of focus. I can barely hear him over the ringing in my ears.

"I'm here…I'm here!" To my deafened ears, I sound like I'm trying to speak underwater even though I'm yelling at the top of my lungs.

"James!" A quick flash of relief crosses Peppy's face, but it vanishes just as fast. At least my hearing is coming back. "That missile almost had your name on it. Listen, you scraped along the canyon wall. The right side of your Arwing is totally gone."

"What?!"

I look over to the side. Smoke and sparks spit out of the metallic stump that used to be my starboard wing. I look at it in disbelief. Hell, this whole day has been a nightmare. This was supposed to be just a simple scouting mission to Venom. But Pigma betrayed us, that mad man Andross was still alive here and knew we were coming, and pretty much anything else that could have gone wrong has gone wrong. I survived all of those things so far, but this might be the one that finally gets me.

I check over my Arwing's diagnostics on the monitors. Not good. Not having one of my wings isn't crippling. If you're good at manipulating the VTOL jets, Arwings are tough enough to fly back to base without both wings if needs be. But the missile did more than that. I can't see it from the cockpit, but the display tells me the armor on the right side of the ship got completely blown away, and the engine underneath got blasted full of shrapnel that got sucked in through the front intake. Now the engine putters along, leaving a trail of smoke as it struggles to keep me up in the air. That's going to be the kiss of death for this Arwing and probably me as well.

"Peppy…" I take a deep breath. "My engine is shot and I can't bail out. I'm going to have to set her down."

Peppy reacts as if he took a hit to the gut, but rapidly masks his feelings. I'm glad that Peppy thinks I'm as relaxed as I must look over the comms screen. As the leader of Star Fox, it's my duty to set the example of composed leader no matter what happens. Panic is the last thing you need in a battlefield. And panic infects those around you, if you let it get to you.

"James. You know what that means."

I solemnly nod. "Yes. Please, get out of here and tell General Pepper what happened…and tell Fox what happened to me."

"That's a tall order James, even from you."

Let me discuss this situation from a pragmatic point of view. I'd love for Peppy to help me. I really would. But Peppy would get killed or captured himself if he tried. I can't set down and then ride with Peppy in his ship. Arwings only seat the pilot and no one else. He could try to cover me from the air until I can secure transport but that would take too long. Andross' army is right on our tails. Peppy would just get shot down. There is nothing he can do to help me without sacrificing himself in the process.

"Just leave. I'm not done for yet. I'll figure something out once I'm on the ground."

I say those words but I don't believe them deep in my heart. I just want to give Peppy the hope that I can take care of myself, so he doesn't ignore my orders and stick around. It would be tragic if our friendship ends up killing him too. The best possible thing Peppy can do right now is leave, tell General Pepper what happened, and then maybe Pepper can send a rescue party. Meanwhile, I try to lay low until rescue arrives or I find a new way off planet. Either option has slim odds of success but at least it's assured one of us will survive.

Fortunately (or unfortunately), Peppy looks torn at first on the comm link but his eyes quickly narrow as he chooses his course of action.

"I understand James. I'll get back to Corneria as fast as I can. We'll be back for you. Just hang in there!" He gives me a little salute over the video monitor.

"Will do buddy." I return the salute and force a smile. "I'll start killing Venomians with my bare paws if that's want it takes. Now get of here! Hurry!"

Peppy ignites his afterburners as he flies off high up into the stormy sky. The light soon disappears into the black stormy clouds.

"It gets darkest…just before it goes completely pitch black." For some reason this ends up making me laugh. You're supposed to say 'just before dawn', but I feel like being ironic right now for some reason.

Getting close to death isn't all bad and in some ways it's liberating. It makes everything a lot simpler and clearer. You're free to focus all of your physical and mental energy on trying to stay alive, and that's exactly what I need. While I'm afraid of Fox growing up as an orphan, I'll need to put that out of my mind until I get to safety. I need to focus on trying to land for starters.

Fortunately, this is a good place to have a crash landing. Rolling hills of rusty desert sands cover most of the surrounding area, with the odd bit of scrub brush or rock here and there. If a Venomian patrol follows me this far I'll be easy pickings, but I'll worry about that once I'm on the ground. All I can do is work with what I've been given.

The lift generated by my remaining wing at least allows me to glide along in the air, despite the sputtering engine behind me. I hold the stick away from the direction of the remaining wing. This forces the Arwing to fly straight, despite the unbalanced wind resistance attempting to tug me in a circle. As the ground approaches, I engage whatever VTOL rockets I have remaining in the hopes that I can slow down into a relatively smooth landing.

The ground is now one hundred meters below. Then seventy…fifty…thirty…twenty…ten…five… I yank backwards on the stick, pushing the nose up just before I make impact. I only get a few seconds to look up at the stormy, dark sky. The rear engine bounces off of the ground, before the conical nose of my Arwing slams down into the sand. The ship starts to grind through the dust like a sled in snow. My chair barely moves and the restraints only gently press against my body. That means the G-Diffusers still work at least, since I'm not feeling the G-forces pressing against the ship. The Arwing scrapes to a stop. I let out a sigh of relief. That's the first step in my plan complete. But there's no time to rest. I've got to get out of here before Andross' forces spot the wreck from the air.

I reach behind my seat and pull out my emergency rucksack. It contains survival supplies including a basic medical kit, food and water that'll last me a few days, spare ammunition, a knife, and a basic tool kit. After looking over the contents I slip a blaster rifle out of a holster next to my chair. It's more or less a long rectangular metallic block with a pistol grip, butt stock, scope, and flashlight attached to it. A quick check shows I've got a full charge. Then I check my smaller blaster pistol attached to my hip. This also has a full charge. Everything is ship shape and ready to go.

I pop the canopy. A harsh wind immediately smacks me in the face with Venom's polluted air. The toxic stench hits me so hard that I feel like I've been physically struck in the face. I have to cover my face with one paw to cope. But after a couple seconds I recover and wave my pistol around outside. I'm threatening nothing but sand. I jump out of the Arwing, with the blaster rifle ready to shoot before my feet even touch the dirt Again, nothing. I didn't see anything on the ground while I was in the sky, but you never know with Venom. Almost no military intelligence exists on this planet. Plus, mash together Andross's pollution and experiments with the local wildlife and there's no telling what that toxic mix produces. For all I know there are giant mutant sand worms just underfoot, ready to swallow me whole. Real life is kind enough to not imitate my imagination.

I let the blaster rifle hang off of me by its strap, but then I stop. I'm about to leave my old girl behind. Even if time is of the essence, I figure it's best if I give my old Arwing a little send-off before I abandon her for good. So I turn around and pause to have one last look. She looks awful. Of course the missile ripped the wing off completely, but now there's dents and scratches all over the armor, and the nose is badly crushed from sliding along on the ground. Dust and grit obscure my name etched on the side. I'm so close to letting tears flow.

"Sorry gal, but Andross needs to think I'm dead."

I pull a small cylinder out of one of my pockets, adjust a timer on top, and then pull the pin. One deft toss lands the plasma grenade right inside the open cockpit. I'm already off and running though. After thirty seconds of sprinting, the Arwing explodes in a fireball behind me, sending black smoke up in the air. I don't stop to look. The fire and smoke will be a beacon to anyone in the general area.

A foreboding wind whips up and blasts the sand all around me as I keep running. I pull my trusty red neck scarf over my muzzle to cover it. It's a good thing I'm still wearing my trusty aviator sunglasses. Both the scarf and the glasses help to protect my face from grit. Too bad I can't do anything about these huge pointy ears though. They're magnets for the sand. I have to reach up and clean them out with my paws over and over again. At least the wind will erase the footprints I leave behind, so it'll be harder to track me.

My feet sink into the soft sand as I sprint over it. It's draining to run on since I have to drag my foot out of the sand with every step. It doesn't help that my gear's extra weight means I sink faster, so it's not long before I get tired. Back in my academy days I could do marathons no problem, but that was on Corneria with bright sunny weather and classmates cheering each other on. Doing it alone in a god-forsaken desert is quite another, especially when the polluted air is almost unbreathable. With every breath, I'm swallowing air that smells like it came from a sunbaked waste dump.

But still, the fear from Andross' inevitable pursuit pushes me onwards. Where I'm headed, I don't know. I could go left or right, but the entire time I just go straight. It's as good a direction as any, since I have no idea where I am on Venom right now. It's probably a stupid idea to just pick a direction at random, but on the battlefield it's usually better to just do something rather than do nothing.

A few hours have passed now. I occasionally lift up the scarf and take delicate sips from my water bottles. There's no telling when I'll have access to another water source, so I need to conserve. My jogging slows down into a slow but steady walk. As for how long it stays steady, it may not be for much longer. Between the flight here, the actual mission, and my time on foot, I've been awake for the past twenty hours. My body cries out for me to lie down and sleep, but it's too dangerous out in the open desert. A passing Venomian ship could easily spot me from the air.

Still I trudge onwards, now moving zombie-like across the desert sands. It's as if my legs have become robotic limbs stuck in motion. My eyes shut for minutes at a time, even as I continually walk forward. With every step, I listen to the sounds of sand pushed aside. It's relaxing, like walking on soft snow. I close my eyes and get lulled into a walking sleep.

Imagine how shocking it is when I start hearing crunching beneath my boots instead. I stop and look down. I'm standing on a strip of hard-packed gravel in the middle of the sand. Power poles run along the strip to one side, with the cables swaying in the wind. I've found a roadway; a sign of civilization. Of course, the Venomian army probably built this road, but maybe it will lead me some place where I can get supplies and perhaps even a new ship.

But which way should I go? To the left or the right? I read somewhere that people tend to walk in the direction of their dominant paw. For me, that would be right. But my instincts have been all wrong today, so I decide I'll just go left. Again, I have no idea where I am on Venom, so one direction is just as good as any so far as I know. Either one beats standing still. I just hope I'm able to hear any vehicles approaching before they see me.

After about thirty minutes of walking, I spy a structure jutting out from the sand dunes lining the road. I'm still a long ways off, so I can't get a good look at what it is. At this distance, it looks like a big warehouse of some kind. It's no doubt enemy-occupied, so I get off the road and walk through the sand again. Adrenaline is a hell of a drug, and the prospect of potentially encountering hostiles wipes away my half-dead visage. As I get closer, I unstrap the rifle and start to crawl towards the top of the last sand dune before the structure.

What I see when I peek over the top gives me mixed feelings. A small complex spreads out in an empty field below. I notice the gigantic warehouse first, and realize that's what I spotted from the road. An empty concrete landing pad sprawls out in front of it, so it must be a hangar. My heart rate rises a bit, but I stop to look at the other structures first. Also flanking the landing pad is an entrance to an underground bunker, and a two-story building that looks like a small command center. So this is an outpost of some kind.

But something looks wrong. I don't see a single sign of life. No people walk around outside, and no lights are on outside or in any of the buildings. If this outpost was abandoned, it happened very recently and suddenly. Everything appears to be in pristine condition and I don't see any signs of conflict: no blaster marks, no fires, no broken walls, absolutely nothing. It's as if there were people here just minutes or hours ago, and then they all went 'poof' and disappeared into thin air. What would cause the soldiers to suddenly abandon the outpost?

I wonder if it's a trap, but why would Andross go to the trouble of setting a trap? If he knew where I was going, he could have just sent a gunship to mow me down. There would be nowhere to hide from it out there. Why not just do that? Andross may be a mad scientist, but he's also pragmatic like that.

So it's not a trap, why else would this place be empty? I continue to lay prone on the top of the hill, paralyzed by that question. Eventually I decide that I'll wait here for an hour and just observe the place. Maybe I'll see if there's anyone still around before the time is up. So I set the timer on my wristwatch, and settle down to wait. Near the command building, there's a pole with a flag bearing Andross' ugly face. The flag whips around in the wind, but there's no other movement for the duration of the hour.

My wristwatch vibrates, signaling that the hour has passed. After turning it off, I still don't feel safe going down there. But what else am I going to do? I can't stay here forever. And going back into the desert could be suicide. I'll be out of drinkable water in just a couple days at the rate I'm going. I have no idea when I'll get another chance like this to steal supplies. Potentially getting shot sounds better than slowly dying of thirst, at least.

I circle around the outpost on top of my dune, and then quickly descend down the dune next to the hangar. The dunes on one side and the hangar on the other should help keep me out of sight. Now I'm going to walk around to the back of the hangar and see if there's a safe way I can slip inside there. As I reach the corner around the back of the hangar, I start to hear a loud creaking sound.

When I risk a peek, it turns out to just be the back door swinging back and forth in the heavy wind. Seeing no one around, I rush for the doorway. I am now grateful that the sand and the wind muffle my footsteps. Inside the door, I see nothing but complete darkness. Going into a pitch black room without knowing what's in there is terrifying, but I need to find out if they have transport in here. I didn't see any vehicles outside.

Taking a deep breath, I jump inside and quickly move away from the door, so that I'm not silhouetted against the light coming in from outside. I accidentally knock over an empty fuel can with my elbow and send the container clattering to the floor. The sound echoes through the darkness. I freeze in place. But aside from the sound of my own labored breathing I hear nothing else. I feel completely alone here. It's funny. Before, I would have considered that a good thing. But the longer I'm alone in this place, the more I wish to find a sign of life, even if it's the enemy. Being shot at would actually be a relief by this point.

At least I think I'm safe and alone in here for the time being. I gratefully pull the red scarf off of my muzzle. It helped a lot in keeping the grit out of my face, but the cloth made it harder to breathe too. I turn on the blaster rifle's flashlight and quickly sweep the hangar with me. Shelves, barrels, repair benches, and those sorts of things show up in the light's beam. Off in the center of the space I see the outline of an aircraft. Could this be my ticket out of here? Grinning, I rush over and shine my light on the ship. As I get a better look, the smile quickly fades away.

I don't think I've ever seen a ship like this before. It's painted white with a black underside. There's a single tall tail-fin and broad delta-shaped wings on the sides of the tube-shaped body. It looks very primitive, like something that should be in a museum. And what's this written on the side of the ship? I focus in my flashlight.

United States – Expedition