Paranoia swept over me as I brushed the curtains from their position, the soft swishing noise making my heart race, as I looked out the window into the darkness. My hair fell onto my back, and my eyes swept the landscape in front of me.
He was still there.
For hours he stood, never moving, never shifting, and never breathing. The light from the street lamp to his left barely illuminated his form. I was panic stricken just looking at him. Some how, he managed to stare at me, even though he was in lack of eyes, nose, and a mouth. Faceless, was the word, and it sent waves of fear racking through my body. His "eyes" bore into me like a hot cattle prod, and I couldn't stand it. His black tie suit would have been formal, classy even, had it been worn on anyone else.
I closed the curtains for the millionth time tonight, and collapsed against my tan couch resting back against the cushion. My chest heaved quickly with my anxiety and nervousness of the unknown that stood across the street. I crossed my arms across my chest, and looked down.
He almost looked as if he were waiting for me, his long arms framing his sides. God, I didn't know what I had done to deserve this.
I reflected later that maybe it was because of my lack of social skills. I kept to myself, and cursed anyone out who dared to talk to me, whether they deserved it or not. I kept my family happy, and that was all that mattered. Maybe it appealed to the monster who was tracking me, that almost no one would miss me, should I disappear.
It began weeks ago, after my parents moved me and my younger sister up into the forest area, near the edge of Washington. Our little town was surrounded my miles and miles of forest, with just one road going in the main directions. Then, I started to see him.
It started with what I thought were figments of my imagination, and I dismissed it quickly, without a thought... But then... I began to see more and more frequent sightings of him, and grew scared. I wanted to talk to my parents about it, but they already thought I was messed up enough, and I certainly didn't need the men in white coats to make an appearance, so I dealt with it on my own, which was a bad idea.
Shaking off my thoughts, I unwrapped my arms which were tightly wound around my chest, and turned on my knees to move the curtains again. I glanced quickly across the street, and sighed in relief as I realized he was gone.
I turned around and sat on my butt, and looked up.
My chest constricted, and my breath caught, as I was face to face with The Slender Man. Some sort of ripped metal sound erupted from his throat. Black tentacle looking things ripped from his back and framed his silhouette, straightening, and then turning wavy every time he screamed. His metal ripping sound rose to a new high, and I shielded my face. He was so close that I could nearly feel his dark aura wrapping around me, and I shut my eyes. I tried to back into the couch, but I was already pressed so hard against it I couldn't move anymore. I was going to die, I was going to die, I was going to die.
I felt his warm, tentacle like arms wrap around my forearms. I lost it. Everything had no feel to it, just the warm, somewhat odd feeling tentacles. I couldn't think, couldn't breathe, and for some odd reason... He began to shake me.
I looked up, with my eyes wide; I realized it was not The Slender Man, but my own father.
I looked up at my father's face, which was wrinkled in worry. "Erin! Are you alright?" He asked, and I let out my breath. It… was a dream. It took me a moment to compose myself enough to realize this.
He was concerned, as any good parent would be, finding their child in the situation I was in. It took me a moment to respond, because at first I wasn't sure I'd be able to with out bursting into tears. When I did, I gave him the most generic, and true answer I could think of.
"I'm fine Dad; just had a nightmare is all." I looked down at his hands, which were wrapped tightly around my forearms still. He followed my gaze and released me, backing up as he did. He fidgeted quietly and averted my eyes. I could tell he had something on his mind, and that he would tell me when he was ready. When he did, it was certainly not what I had expected.
"Are you pregnant?" At that moment, I felt like I had gotten hit by a speeding bus, which flew off a cliff and into freezing water. Pregnant. Of all things!
Shocked and somewhat offended, I stuttered out a response. "Of... Of course not! Why would you ask something like that!" His lips twitched as he said "Night terrors are a part of pregnancy... So are major mood swings, you constantly look tired, and-" "I am not pregnant." I growled. Standing up, I pushed past him and to the stairs. I ran my hand up the balcony as I climbed, still fuming. Of course, I had forgotten all about the dream by that time, and I realize now that it was nice to feel an emotion other than paranoia. Too bad I took it for granted...
I reached the top of the stairs, and shivered as my bare feet padded against the hard wood floors. The floorboards creaked and groaned under my weight as I slowly made my way down the dark hall to my room. I opened the door and made my way over to the light. Flipping the switch, my room was suddenly bathed in light.
I sighed, looking upon the mess I had made. It peculiar, having such a messy room when I liked everything else to be clean... I bent over and began picking the heaps of clothing off the ground, and throwing them haphazardly into my hamper. Finally, when the ground was clean, I walked slowly around my room straightening things up. My anger had pushed me awake, and I didn't feel tired.
Finally, my entire room was spotless. I glanced over at the clock and sighed. I was the only one crazy enough to clean my room at 3:00 in the morning, and the only one crazy enough to still not go to bed. I had work the next morning, and I knew better, but stayed up anyways.
With nothing better to do, I sat down on the wooden 4 legged stool at my desk; I grabbed a pencil and began to doodle absentmindedly. My mind floated back to The Slender Man, as I had learned it was called, and I began to ponder what it was.
I remembered the first time I had seen him, truly seen him.
His palms turned upward as if he wanted to hug me. I had refused, pure fear guiding my boldness. I knew he could hear inside my head, because his urging became more persistent. I could hear him telling me inside my mind Come to me. Come outside. Come with me. I remember, he stood so close to my window that all I could see was his tie and arms... Those horrifying arms...
I had the distinct feeling as if he was there to hurt me, as if he wanted me to die, yet he had done nothing but stare at me to make me feel this way. Staring at him made a sharp feeling of pain, and fear erupt into my brain. At the time, I had scrambled away from the window, my eyes wide, and I hadn't made a sound.
He bent down, and that was when I realized he had no face. His head tilted in a curious way, as if he were inspecting me. Then, pure agony erupted through my brain as I heard a loud screeching noise. My hands flew to my head, and I began to shake back in forth, begging for the searing pain to stop. Surprisingly, it vanished, as quickly as it had appeared, and I looked up at my window, breathing heavily. He... Was gone.
Coming out of my flash back, I glanced down at my doodles, and gasped.
There, on my paper, I had drawn about fifty symbols in which I had never seen before. I had no idea what had compelled me to make them... They meant something...
A circle with an X in the middle. I knew the symbol, and it was so familiar… How peculiar.
/
I awoke the next morning to the ever so annoying buzz of my alarm clock. I groaned as I came into consciousness, and opened my eyes. I looked over to the clock, aimed for the button, and slammed my hand right on target. The buzzing stopped, and I sat up, rubbing at my eyes. I yawned, and let my feet touch the carpet. Standing, I walked groggily out of my room, and to the bathroom. The cold hardwood stung as I walked, and I stumbled a few times over my own feet. I pulled a towel out from the closet in front of my bathroom, and walked right into the door.
"Oh for fucks sakes..." I muttered, and slammed my fist up against the wood. "ALYSSA!" I snarled. "I HAVE TO GO TO FUCKING WORK, NOW OPEN THE FUCKING DOOR AND LET ME IN GODDAMNIT!" My pain in the ass little sister was running late once again, hogging the bathroom up because she needed to slather on as much makeup as she possibly could. I was getting pissed the fuck off, I was on about 4 hours sleep, and I needed to use the bathroom.
When she finally opened the door, she stormed past me as a rush of hot steam blew into my face. "Bitch..." I muttered, and pushed into the bathroom.
/
When I stepped out of the warm water, I was completely awake. I blindly grabbed my towel, and dried my hair, and face. Wrapping the towel around my body, I made my way to the mirror.
To my horror, written in the condensation from my shower was "It wasn't a dream." Below it, used almost as a signature, was the symbol ⓧ.
Someone had been in my bathroom, while I was in the shower. Someone was able to get in, even though the door was locked. The symbol… The same one I had drawn over, and over, and over again, it… was there.
Then, as a realization came to pass, I dropped to my knees, and then my face hit the cool, wet ground. The searing pain and screeching noise was back. He was here.
I began to hyperventilate. My head felt like it was about to split in half, and I couldn't move. I began to loose focus, and the pain increased. "S-stop…!" I begged, pushing my hands against my head. I wasn't able to think straight, but I knew he was coming. Suddenly, the room stopped spinning, and then, the pain stopped.
I looked up, and he stared down at me, tilting his head. "W-what are y-you?" I asked weakly, and he reached forward, and grabbed my wrist. "Erin!" My dad bellowed from outside the door. "What the hell are you doing in there?" The Slender Man's head jerked up, and then, disappeared.
Later. He said, and then, I passed out.