AN: I have a new series of vocabulary words for first-time readers; platonic romance, pansexual, and asexual. Please learn them before you start assuming this is a romantic story.

Chapter 2: Slender

I find Lea in the kitchen of the Proxy-house. Proxy-house meaning all of them use it and have access. Generally Lea will spend anywhere from a day to a week in a house and then move.

She's stirring a pot of something, probably soup. I know she already ate, but there's more than one reason to cook.

Lea's culinary skills are pretty well-known, even though she doesn't brag. Once she even got the "you would make a great wife" comment, to which she replied that she has no interest in marriage, "and definitely not with you."

The Proxy who gave her that compliment purposefully tracked her halfway across the country, and she very nearly tossed him out in a blizzard. Lea's not very approachable.

She sets aside the spoon, reaching to some spices sitting nearby. I can hear the bottles clin together through her. My own sense of hearing is nearly non-existent. About the only thing that reaches me is the odd echoing pounding of heartbeats.

"How many more in Seattle?" I ask.

Lea doesn't even look at me, "Just one. I've already established a pattern with him. I'll take care of it tonight."

I nod, even though I already knew this. She's stating the obvious. It's hard not to when the person you're talking to is mentally connected to you. The telepathy is almost more trouble than it's worth. Almost, but not quite.

It's always worth it.

"You found The Inspector?"

She shrugs, "He found me. Turns out he's been tracking me pretty closely."

"And yet you antagonized him? You really shouldn't." The last time The Inspector got involved things didn't end well.

"But it's so much fun to play with them," A predatory smile touches her face.

"You have a dark streak," I comment. I'm well acquainted with this. That dark streak is partly my doing, after all.

"And you're all dark," She replies easily. The statement is accompanied by a quick grin.

I can't help but feel a rush of fondness at the remark. It's one of the things that we repeat to each other, and it reassures us both.

That, and Lea never seems to bat an eye at my habits. The stalking and killing; they never really bothered her. She's not afraid of me. That's a rare thing. Once she told me that what really scared her was when I wasn't there.

She's one of the few who felt my presence their entire lives, and the only one who ever managed to reach me.

Actually, I saved her life. Neither of us talk about that. The memory is still a fresh scar on Lea's mind.

I've grown extremely attached to my Proxy. Neither of us can exist without the other.

Lea is listening to my thoughts as she cooks. It's a basic form of communication, and something we've been doing almost since we met. There were a couple of days of focusing to thin to eachother, and now we simply think and the other person hears.

Breaking the link between us causes severe mental and emotional pain. We never do that.

Lea physically twitches at the memory, drawing a sharp breath and then banishing the thought as she exhales. She resumes balancing spices and flavors, concentrating on the task.

I stay quiet as she works, as I often do. I'm not a very talkative person. As Slendermen go though, I'm probably the best a Proxy could get. I'm not extremely distant or demanding. I actually care about them, or at least about Lea. If I had been set with any other Proxy I don't know how things would have gone.

At the time she wasn't a Proxy, and I was barely self-aware. It was almost pure luck. I guess I have Max to thank for that. Too bad he's dead.

"You're thinking awfully far back," Lea interrupts my thoughts.

I shrug, "The past is important." All six hundred years of my past.

Lea nods, turning to face me. "Blood," She says, tapping to fingers on her cheekbone.

I raise a hand to my own face, or where my face should be. The fingers are stained red. It must have gotten on me earlier. I didn't even notice. My clothes never seem to stain, but my skin is another matter.

Lea sighs, "here." She steps forwards, stretching up with a towel to wipe away the blood. She leans into me slightly to reach. "I think you're the only one that does this."

That's probably true. She's the only Proxy who's this close to her master. I've seen the other pairs interact, and they always seemed so formal. The hierarchy is so clear, and the Proxies are so submissive. It always seemed wrong to me, like neither side is happy with the arrangement.

"I meant show up with blood on your face," Lea steps back, looking up at me. Her blue eyes blink at me from behind black bangs.

Maybe her eyes used to be happy, they aren't anymore. Trauma and pain have dulled them. I can see the spark now though, lighting up her whole face.

That's a look I know well.

She's wearing a mask of happiness over her real emotions. The act will fool 99% of people, but not me. I know she's faking.

` "Don't do that," I say quietly.

Lea lets the mask fall away and her face becomes almost expressionless. That's why she was cooking; to calm herself down. I know how she feels. Lack of emotion is almost a defense mechanism, and one that can damage you almost indefinitely.

Obviously she was more ruffled by The Inspector than she let on. He always did have a way of getting under her skin. I could always just kill him.

"Too risky," Lea cuts across my thoughts.

"I know, but it's tempting."

There's that predatory smile again, "It is,"

The turns back to the pot, turning off the heat and lifting it from the stove.

I watch her complete the action, and then I have to ask. "Are you actually going to eat that?"

Lea pauses for a moment, "No. There's another group coming in tomorrow, so they will."

"You should at least have some of it,"

"I'm not hungry,"

I just stare at her. She needs to eat. I know it and she knows it. She's watching me out of the corner of her eye, seeing what I'll do. Finally, she sighs, "Fine. You win."

She reaches up, opens a cupboard, and retrieves a bowl. She dips a ladle into the pot, filling the bowl about half-way with soup. Then she grabs a spoon from a drawer and starts eating, not bothering to sit down.

"I already ate today," She protests.

"But not enough. You need to keep your strength up."

Lea scowls, the spoon hovering before her mouth. She takes another bite, "Not that this food will help much in that respect. It's not exactly blessed by god."

Well, she's right about that. Neither of us is exactly on God's good side, so it's not going to happen any time soon. Not that God is really the person we need help from at this point, now if The Father gave his blessing to the food, it might help a little.

Lea coughs, her body almost rejecting the food. She sets the bowl aside, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. "No more. I'll be sick."

I know she's not comfortable with this. She's almost never hungry, and doesn't eat unless someone makes her. I also know that, if left on her own, she would make herself.

Lea grabs a small bottle from the counter top, gulping down the contents. She sighs, relaxing slightly. "I'm coming apart at the seams."

I don't respond. It's a fact, not a conversation starter. And, like I mentioned before, I'm not a talkative person.

I leave the house again a few minutes later. Lea's fine on her own, and I want to get back to my, I guess you could say, job. More like pastime. Or compulsion.

Whatever you'd call it, I pause to select a victim in my personal world. It's all blurred gray lines and shapes in here. There's nothing solid at all, besides the ground.

I settle on one of the newest I have. He's still intact mentally, and has been for a while. He's of no consequence in the long run, but the smarter they are the more fun it is to watch them fall apart.

I used to just stalk and kill, like an animal. Now, I take my victims apart, piece by piece. I move things in their houses, take things, make them feel watched. It's almost like a game. Of course, they have no chance of escape.

The people I hunt have a certain light. It hurts me, physically, to experience that. I don't know what ties them all together, but they all have that light. I can sense them heading towards it, and those I begin to torment in hopes of keeping them away. As soon as one of them catches fire, well, I kill them.

And then there are those who have another kind of light that doesn't hurt. Then we come to Lea.

But that's not the focus. Right now I concentrate of ruining this guy's entire day. Mostly by scaring him until he's jabbering in a corner.

I start out by following him home, lurking at the edge of his sight. By the time he's back at his house, his eyes are flickering nervously, peering into every dark corner. He's also rubbing his head like he has a headache.

Then I stand so the television doesn't work properly, so that the screen begins flickering and the circuits crackle, and when he gets up to fix it, I move his chair across the room. That kind of instant movement has become my specialty. It has something to do with the way I move between dimensions and space.

I'm having fun watching him fall apart. Well, not fun exactly, but it's entertaining. In a kind of dark way.

As an extra touch, I allow him to catch sight of me for a moment before disappearing. I've become adept at doing so while being watched . Not many of my kind can, so I'm of some use at least.

The man is reduced to a shivering heap, desperately whirling in circles, searching for the monster he's sure he just saw.

I'm watching from my own gray-scape world.

I decide to let him rest for now, so he can be more alert later.

I wonder for a moment how an entire society formed around my kind. We're not exactly respectable, or kind for that matter. Just the opposite, actually. It's a mystery to me.

And yet there is a whole organization of Proxies out there. And they're making both my life and Lea's very difficult.

When I say "difficult" I don't mean too much work. I mean that the Proxies take a sick pleasure in constantly tearing at us. Their special skill is taking you apart, piece by piece, slowly ripping you to shreds from the soul up, using any means necessary, until there's nothing left.

They've done that to Lea once already.

AN: Well, I posted early. Mostly because I wanted to, but also, for those who read this, I will be attending a convention here in California on Saturday. I'm basically saying if you're going and you see a Masky walking around being mobbed by various people in various cosplays, say hello. And possibly we can have a chat.