AN/Disclaimer: I don't own Marble Hornets. I'm not that good. I also don't own the blogs. If you don't know what any of this is, sorry. I dunno if there are any Slender fans on here.

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"If you could make God bleed, people would cease to believe in him" –Whiplash, Iron Man 2

All was silent in the base. The proxies had enough of their own mind in control to keep themselves silent. None of them dared to speak. None wanted to upset their Master. He was angry, still bleeding from the wound he had been given.

Zero; The hero of the story for many of those foolish little bloggers out there. The biggest hole in His divine plan. The one who lead his prey to rebel on the Solstice. Just as bad as Strahm, the first to fight back as opposed to settle comfortably into the madness with the others.

When they had first marched into the clearing, Zero, Amelia, and what few other allies they had were no where in sight. All of them hid in the trees, their Master knew where they were the entire time. He just wanted to play with them a bit. The Master was so sure in his victory when they came out to face Him. And his Hallowed shared the feeling. There was power in numbers, after all. So few runners and fighters had gathered that it was almost laughable.

This was when shots were fired into the crowd. Nightcrawler's gang; Basroil squad. The master knew, why didn't he warn them?

Why?

WhY?

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Most of them were killed; most of them quickly. They would no longer hear the Master's call late at night. Never again would they feel His tentacles reaching out for them; no longer would his voce echo in their heads when all they were asking for was a few blissful hours of sleep. They were free from this nightmare, free to remember who and what they had been.

The Master couldn't hurt you once you were dead. Death freed you into the hopefully open arms of whatever deity you'd had faith in before He got to you. Death was the only way to be free.

Those that were wounded tried to flee into the woods. They grouped together, some just staring into space as their master let them rest. Others still had just enough presence of mind to attempt to care for their wounds, and perhaps even the wounds of others.

They all knew something had happened when the Master screeched in their heads. He sounded –pained-. They knew the anger and hate radiating off of their Master was directed at Zero, though none of them were quite sure –why-. They saw soon enough.

The Master found them. He was coated in the blood of a human. Anger radiated off of him like heat does the Sun. In the light of the now fully-revealed moon they saw why their Master had screamed. There was a wound in his midsection. A long slice that ripped his suit, and dripped his blackish-green 'blood'.

This was the beginning of the end. Slowly, His agents became less willing to serve their Master. The Master could bleed. They had come to him for power, and in the end, a mere human had made him bleed. The ability to bleed implied the ability to die. And with death as an option, he became less frightening.

The Slenderman was forced to take many of his own agents back with persuasion. It angered him, and he tightened his grip on his pets. He could still use fore, but loosing blood for the first time in so many hundreds of years, that weakened him.

They made him –bleed-. And he had disposed of them quickly and mercilessly. But they cost Him his power, and that was something He could never forgive.