A Slender Father

It was a cold December night, when it happened. A full crimson moon hung from the starry skies; overlooking the tenebrous, murky plain, occupied by thousands of towering fern trees. Lingering among the tree trunks was a scarlet-tinted mist, of which gleamed ominously in the faint rays of moonlight, hugging the hills with its crisp, cold arms of vapor. Sally clung onto her teddy, as tight as she could, whilst she stumbled through the endless landscape. Now that her parents were taken care of, she was free to travel wherever she wanted, and do whatever she wanted.

But... she felt alone. Her teddy lay lifeless within her pale arms, haven't not spoken since the murder he committed. All she ever wanted was to escape the clutches of her parents, she was tired of being treated like a child, an infant, yet something clawed at the back of her mind. It was nothing other than guilt and regret.

"No!" She shrieked out loud, dropping to her knees and releasing her doll companion onto the icy-cold, damp blanket of twigs. Gritting her teeth, Sally held back her tears. I mustn't regret my decision, she reassured herself, they were pathetic parents, they deserved what I did to them. I must keep going.

As she clambered back onto her feet, she recollected her teddy bear into her arms, hugging it briefly before slinging it across her back; as if she was giving it a piggy back ride. And so, she continued dragging her legs over the twiggy terrain, avoiding tree branches and roots as she walked. The strain bit at her heels, her spine, her neck. How long had she been walking? Hours? Days? Time seemed to be an endless loop now, a pointless unit of which she needn't care for.

She continued walking for a few minutes, until a rustle in the bushes stopped her in her tracks. Whilst she glanced around, she was more certain nothing was there, though she took the darkness and her limited eyesight in consideration. Timidly, she took a few steps forward.

"H-Hello?" Sally frightenedly stuttered, her heart felt like it was trying its hardest to escape from her chest.

A sound of a drum began looping within her mind in reply, dramatically pounding against her skull. Dropping teddy once again, she clutched her head as hard as she could to block the sound out. Whilst the wind toyed with her brunette locks, Sally shrieked and fell backwards, the sound getting louder and louder. Countless tears pattered onto her skirt, as Sally stayed on the ground, an emotional wreck. Surely she was imagining things, correct?

"Make it stop!" She sobbed and wailed, but to no avail.

Opening her eyelids only slightly, she noticed a dark, shadowy figure emerging from the bushes and shrubs, posessing a danger like no other. She began to resist the sound surrounding her, and mustered the courage to open her eyes fully. The shadowy figure was tall and slender, its arms extending down to its knees. Its body-shape defined it to be a man, though its height was too inhumane for it to be human. Illuminously, the clouds above parted, allowing a small amount of light rays to shine upon the creature, its veil of darkness vanishing within seconds.

Now Sally could see the creature clearly: it consisted of skin as white as snow; a jet-black silk suit; a red tie and thousands of tentacles sprouting from its slender figure. There was one thing though, one detail that sent millions of goosebumps and chills down Sally's spine; it possessed no face. Upon its pale head were no eyes, no mouth, no nose. It was as blank as a canvas, awaiting for it to be turned into a piece of art.

The "man" did not speak, it just stood there, observing her as if it truly did have eyes to observe her with. Its blank expression scarred Sally's mind; she would never forget anything of that moment. Slowly and gradually, the tall, slender creature crouched down, its tentacles returning into its arched back.

"A.. A person?" She wondered, for some reason Sally did not feel at all scared any more. "Are you lost? Like me?"

For whatever reason, Slenderman did not attack the girl before her that day. There was something about her that made Slenderman feel something in that stone heart of his, but what was this emotion called? Sympathy. It was sympathy. With no other way to communicate, Slenderman held out his silvery hand to the girl, offering his help. Accepting his extended hand, Sally nodded her head in understanding.

The young girl stood up, brushing dust off of her skirt. Sally may not have known whoever this man was, or his name, but she was sure whatever fate he should bring would be better than freezing to death in this labrynth of trees. So, she followed the tall man into the woods, smiling at him in thanks. Yet, she never noticed her empty hands.

She had forgotten something. Something vital and sentimental to her.