Chapter Nine

Taken

"Take out the stories they put into your mind;

and brace for the glory as you stare into the sky, the sky beneath –

I know you can't be tired.

Turning in circles,

been caught in a stasis,

the ancient arrival – cut to the end.

I'd like you to take me apart from the inside

Then spit through the cycle,

right to the end."

~ Tempest, by Deftones

SSSS-SSSS

The tree branches hung high in the air, resembling a suspended ceiling. The midnight moon was like a large, round light hanging right in the middle. Alice was cold, shaking on the wet, leafy ground. She wore nothing but a long, thin black tunic, her bare toes being left to squish around in the soppy mound of leaves. A dense fog hung round her, chilling the air. Moments before, she had sworn it had been hot – maybe even summer. But now the air around her felt like ice, closing in on her like Darkness itself held her captive there. She squirmed about in her sloshy surroundings, and tried to speak. Nothing came from her throat, not even a squeak. She was free, however, not bound to anything. Still, she stayed on the ground, her body feeling like lead or dead weight. She appeared to be alone in the forest, or at least she was alone in this part of the forest. She tried calling out again, with success this time.

"Hello?" she croaked.

From behind the walls of the trees, something rustled. Alice tensed, though excitement pulsed through her being. She knew immediately who stood behind the trees.

"Alisss," the person, no monster, hissed. A strange cackle emitted from Alice's lips, startling her, as He stepped forward, his paper-white skin glowing, dazzling Alice. The Operator stood straight and tall, his suit crisp and frozen-looking. His featureless visage stared at Alice, the head cocked to one side.

In the refines of her mind, Alice knew him to be a monster – and just that. But now, at the forefront of her thoughts, she fancied him beautiful.

Was she beautiful, too? No one had ever said if she was or not.

The air was frigid as it clung to their bodies, freezing Alice's wet clothes. Despite her chills, she grinned up at Him. The shadows cast on his face gave way to the almost invisible line for a mouth, curved into an approving smirk. Slowly, he moved closer to her, almost gliding. He bent to one knee, hovering above Alice's quivering frame.

"Do you fear?" His voice flowed over her and her nervous excitement grew. She shuddered.

"No," she breathed, closing her eyes. He did not reply, instead he merely touched her gently with his hands. They were warm, and felt as though they burned her skin, melting away the cold. She lay as still as she could, feeling the black silk that whipped around behind him wrap around one wrist. It happened slowly, snaking its way around and around. The others soon coiled on the other wrist, and constricted her ankles, and Alice was rendered helpless as the Operator moved his hands about. She should have been afraid – she should have tried to run. But, he had shown interest in her – he cared about her. Oh, she knew he had to care for her.

For he said the one word Alice had never heard directed at her. It was spoken in her ear, low and quiet.

"Beautiful."

Alice relished in that one word. Yes! Yes, now she felt beautiful. She felt calm – calm as this entity gripped her shoulders. To the world, he was Evil. To the world, he was a fate far worse than the flaming depths of Hell. To her, he was curiosity – he was wonder, and he was beauty.

She felt the fabric leave her shoulders, exposing her pale skin the night. He inched it down, and Alice felt subtle self-consciousness as his long, surprisingly gentle fingers danced across her skin.

Alice wondered if he did this to all of the other victims – his other interest, the other girls he had taken. For a moment, she wondered if this was how he killed them. But she tried to push that thought to the side. His gentle hands were making her feel in a way she had never felt before and despite how calm she seemed, Alice felt strange at the same time. Fear crept its way into her bones and He seemed to sense it.

"Trust me," he purred to her.

Alice opened her eyes and was startled. Her monster now looked taller, and the scene around her had suddenly changed. The forest had turned into the bedroom at her grandmother's house. How had they gotten there? They had been in the forest just seconds before. The Operator was grinning at her, the think, scar-like mouth positioned right above Alice's. It crushed her lips with a force too strong. It was as if she had become a porcelain doll, and he was breaking her. The tentacles that had once held her wrists now rested on shattered remnants of her arms. Her arms! A strangled yelp was muffled on its way out of Alice's mouth. As He kissed her, her screams turned to moans, coated with pain as he started to finish her, piece by piece. He tore her limb by limb, pulling out of their kiss, laughing as Alice's body and head rushed her soul out from within. The world around her faded, and the softness of the sheets was replaced by icy forgiveness.

"Goodbye, my dear Alice," the Operator purred. She could feel it – the last moments of life leaving her body, the warmth rising out of her like steam, fogging her view of everything, everything but His wicked grin as she-

"NO!"

Alice's eyes snapped open, but she was met with darkness. She gasped for air and starting panting, trying to feel her way out of delirium. Her hair stuck to her clammy forehead, her pajama tank top feeling damp with cold sweat. I'm dead, thought Alice. I'm dead!

"Mom?" she croaked, sitting up. The corners of her eyes felt crusty with what she thought were dried tears. She called her mother again, and there was no answer. Am I dead?

Alice threw her arms out for some reassurance and met the springy mattress of her bed. Her hand flew to her neck and felt for her own pulse. Beneath her finger, it thudded away, fast and steady: one, two, three…. As her anxiety calmed, Alice's reality slowly returned to her. It was just a dream, she though. But it had seemed so real! She glanced to her clock, the red numbers glaring at her. It was half past four – her mother was most likely sleeping, if she was even home yet. Alice's father remained at his night shift at the hospital.

Alice's kicked the too-hot covers back and off of her body. She welcomed the cooler air from the room like an embrace, wishing it to stay a while and cool her body. After some time, Alice managed to get over the shock from her nightmare – the shock that He had killed her it, finished her off with such ease.

She thought some tea was in order to calm down.

Pulling a black button-up sweater from her closet, Alice shrugged it on and ripped a brush through her tangled hair in the dark. Careful not to make a sound, she turned door knob all the way and tugged. It opened with not so much as a click and Alice made her way down the stairs. She tried her best not to step on the creaky one that had a loose floorboard. Step down – one, two, three, four, step down again – skip, thought Alice, missing the sixth step.

Creaaak.

The stair groaned under her weight. Crap, thought Alice, wincing. She should have known it was the seventh stair! As she took her foot off, the step emitted a high-pitched squeak. The noise echoed through the quiet house. Then, everything was silent and Alice took it as her queue to carry on. She reached the bottom landing with no problem. Yes, thought Alice, feeling quiet victorious.

The kitchen light snapped on.

"Alice?"

The wavy blonde looked up to see an older, much tipsier version of herself. She felt like a deer in the headlights. She could feel the guilty you-caught-me and I-know-I'm-supposed-to-be-sleeping look on her face. From the red cocktail dress her mother wore, Alice suspected that she had been in fact drinking instead of shopping with her friends.

"What are you –ya' doin' up?" her mother slurred.

"I just needed a glass of water," lied Alice. Now, Alice didn't feel the nerves that she did around her father - especially when her mother, Shara, was not sober. The weird anger her parents had toward Alice didn't show through when her mother was drunk. This surprised Alice, since in the stories she had read or heard, angry parents usually got worse with alcohol.

"You're – you gotta – you gotta sleep, Alice!" Her mother hiccupped between words as she stumbled toward the living room.

"How did you get home?" Alice asked, narrowing her eyes suspiciously. Her mother didn't answer; she merely stared at Alice, her eyes holding a strange look. Alice didn't mind her mother – the woman usually kept to herself. She never yelled at Alice, only bossed her around and made her do chores for hours on end. It was Alice's father and his yelling and threats that Alice disliked.

"You're my baby, Alice!" her mother announced drunkenly. "I – I should be takin' care of you, not – not you takin' care of me!" She tried a smile, which came out lopsided. Alice knew her mother could be kind, but that sort of treatment from her parents was foreign to Alice.

"Mom, go to bed," Alice muttered, retreating to the kitchen and grabbing the glass of water she had lied about. She heard her mumble something, incoherent like most nights, and then clamber up the stairs. Sighing, Alice took a drink of her water. She sloshed the tasteless liquid around in her mouth and then swallowed, the coldness slipping down her throat. Upstairs, she heard her parents' bed creak and knew her mother had made it there okay.

Alice's eyes felt heavy with exhaustion, but she made them glare outside of the kitchen window. Everything she despised sat around her; pictures of her parents and cousins and family friends (but of course, she was never found in any), pointless decorations and wilting flowers that had never been even attempted to salvage; medical papers; clocks ticking Alice's very existence away…. In the quiet of her house (apart from her mother's snores), the dream resurfaced on Alice's muddled brain. The images flashed behind her eyes: her broken, crushed arm, shattered into shards of flesh-coloured glass; the writhing tentacles that had done it to her. She could almost feel the wind they created as they flew around, wrapping her wrists in their iron grip.

"Thinking about me again, Alice?"

The silken voice etched itself into her ears. Alice knew that voice! But as she whipped her head around, eyes wildly searching for Him, she saw nothing.

"You won't see me," he whispered, sending shivers crawling along her body like little bugs scuttling across her skin. She stayed silent, she stayed still. The skin on her knuckles turned white as she gripped the kitchen sink.

"But I see you," said the Slender Man. He had broken into her thoughts, and though Alice told herself she didn't fear him, she couldn't help but feel unnerved at how easy it was for him to pervade her mind. Had he witnessed her dreams as well? Or had he, in fact, caused her nightmare, giving her a preview of what he had in store for her?

"Wrong," he said to her. Alice half expected him to appear beside her, towering over her with his menace.

"But I find it interesting, my sweet, that you think of me so often."

Where did you go? Alice's question surfaced in her mind, and it was the only thing she could think of to ask him.

"I've been here the whole time, Alice," he said, his voice oddly patient. She looked outside, her eyes searching for him as though he was something she needed – like a drug to calm her jittery nerves.

"You stopped visiting me," said Alice in a monotone. She felt like a mental patient that needed attention – that needed her nightly visits with someone who made her condition worse. Why she craved his midnight interferences made no sense to her. Again, that feeling of being valued (for whatever purpose, good or bad) crept into her core again and burned there as a desire to be wanted.

"Physically, yes."

"Why….?"

"Time, my dear."

"Everyone keeps saying that," muttered Alice, confused, not noticing she had said it aloud, thought it would not have gone amiss by the Slender an even if she had tried to keep it in her thoughts.

"Everyone, Alice?" he questioned. Alice wanted to slap herself. She remembered The Observer, and tried to keep thoughts of him at bay. She did as he had told her to, and secluded them to the back crevices of her mind, hoping the Slender Man would not try to dig that deep.

"No one," she lied. Alice kept her eyes glued to the window and the darkness that lay beyond it. She strained her eyes to the point of watering, trying to see if he was out there with no prevail. He was not out there – she could see no sign of the tall, thin figure.

"Do not lie to me," he said, his voice soft yet dangerous.

"I'm not lying," countered Alice. He tutted, though this time the sound was not in her mind. Alice froze, realizing the sound came from behind her. Like ice, his smooth voice slipped over her, though the warmth resonating from his body immediately melted it. She felt his hands slide up her shoulders. His touch raised the hairs on her neck. It wasn't as if he had not laid a hand on her before; but the dream was still fresh in her mind, her senses on high alert. From the corner of her eyes, she saw his clad black arm move, swiftly spinning her around. She faced him, and expected to see him staring at her with black, endless eyes with an equally unnerving grin to match. But his face – or rather, lack of – remained a stark white canvas.

"Tell me who The Observer is," demanded the Slender Man. Alice did her best not to let her gaze falter from his head. Her eyes betrayed her, however, and shot to the kitchen floor and back.

"A- a friend, she stuttered. She could feel the writhing tentacles wind around her waist.

"Just a friend?" he whispered. Alice nodded, thinking for a moment he might believe her.

"Yes," she lied again. She knew she had to protect The Observer; though he worked for an organization working against the Slender Man (and she knew she certainly wasn't against Him), she knew The Observer would be in danger if the Slender Man found out who he was. He had been good enough to risk himself to warn Alice, so she knew she had to take a risk as well, as an act of gratitude and thanks towards The Observer. With every lie however, she endangered herself more. He would constrict her small frame, gripping her tighter; raise her into the air just a little higher or inch himself closer so she had no escape. He was powerful, and she was at his mercy. Part of her feared, while the other reveled in his presence.

"You are a terrible liar, Alice," he said, directing a silken appendage to tilt her chin up towards him.

"I'm not lying," she growled out. At her tone, he constricted her waist, pushing the air from her lungs in a startled gasp.

"And yet, you continue to do so, despite your own words." The Slender Man squeezed her tighter. "I could take you away right now," he threatened. "Oh yes, steal you from this place. I've done it so many times before." Alice shivered, shaking her head. Not now, she thought. She was not yet ready to face her fate.

"Please," begged Alice. "Not now." She saw the faint outline of his mouth spread into a wicked smirk.

"Why not? Is now not as perfect a time as any?"

"I-I'm not ready," Alice stuttered. She knew it was in vain; if he was going to take her, she had no way of making him change his mind.

"My sweet Alice," he whispered. "Do you really believe what you have heard – what you have read? So many misconceptions – it is true, no one truly knows what happens. Does that mean it is such a terrible fate? Perhaps I will spare you – perhaps I will not harm you. You have a chance Alice; I know inside you are so willing to come with me." He spoke at her ear, his low voice sending trembles along her spine; Alice shivered from both fear and delight. He chuckled at her.

"I favour you," he purred. "And you are mine, my dear." Alice's mind was reeling; she could let him take her – she would let herself go missing like so many others and just like them, she would never return. And though she wanted to, she knew she could not fully trust this monster – this oh-so-mysteriously-inviting monster.

"I know what you crave; I can make you feel worthy – feel cherished," he tempted. "And there are … others where you will go," he added. He buried his head in the crook on her neck, shocking Alice.

"Others like – like you?" she breathed.

She felt him chuckle against the sensitive skin where he now – kissed her? Yes, that is what she believed he was doing.

"No, silly girl."

"Then – then who?" Alice whispered, trying to stay coherent. She wondered if other girls had been in this same position before her. The nightmare returned to her once more; were his ministrations shadowed by the same motive as they had been in her dream? She certainly hoped not, though the warning from The Observer echoed in her mind: we believe that there are other supernatural beings helping him.

"Others like you," he whispered against her skin. Alice squeezed her eyes shut and had to remind herself to breathe. 1, 2, 3, she thought, breathe in, and breathe out. This monster was against her, bending over her slight frame – he had her trapped and Alice was not sure how to escape.

Or, if she even wanted to escape, that is.

"Come little child," he murmured.

"I am not a child," whispered Alice, earning herself yet another amused chuckle from the Slender Man.

"Then prove me wrong," he replied. Alice felt unsure of what he meant. Vaguely, she wondered about making the decision to go with him herself – if that would prove to him that she was brave enough, rebel enough, or worthy enough. She wondered if it could really be all that bad; if he treated her like this on a daily basis, perhaps her gruesome murder would only be a disadvantage. Delusions clouded her brain; she knew her own ending already, regardless if she went with him or not.

"Come little child," he hummed. Alice stiffened. Softly, he hummed a song to her, his voice deep and melancholy. The words seemed to stir something within Alice: a wanting to be with him, to take his generous offer.

"I will lead thee away," he sung, "into a land of enchantment."

It was as if her mind had left her body and her soul traversed the darkness. She felt light, almost graceful as she listened to his darkly beautiful voice. He was hypnotizing her. Just as she relaxed into him, he slipped away again and Alice's reasoning went with him. He was seven feet of ethereal light, his graceful form bending ever so slightly in a bow as he extended his hand to Alice.

"Come little child," he continued to sing, beckoning towards her with a long, elegant finger. Alice recoiled nervously at the sight of him, stunned with how surreal he seemed. Hesitating at first, Alice took a small step toward him. Standing in place again, she forgot that she had even moved and went to step towards him once more. He's put you in a trance, her mind screamed as she stepped closer again, inching her way toward the eerie fate that the Slender Man held for her. She was vaguely aware of her thoughts from before, of the promise of her own mortality. But the incomprehensive beauty she saw before her tempted her out of her secluded logic and one landed her one step before him.

"Weep not poor child, for life is this way; murdering beauty and passion," he purred to her. "Hush now dear child, it must be this way, to weary of life and deceptions." His voice echoed around her, making the room spin, blurring anything and everything but him. His fingeres unfurled towards Alice, slowly, one by one. He exposed his paper-white aplm to her. Alice gave him a questioning look, and though she knew she was meant to take his hand, she asked his permission in her mind. Raised just above his, her hand shook. As he hummed his ominous tone, he nodded his head. He sensed her nervousness – her apprehension in accepting his offer; he stretched his arm just a little further.

"Come, little child." She would trust him.

And she did. Alice fell deeper into his trance, forcing herself to eliminate her nerves.

Her own hand was smaller than his palm as she rested it there. His gentle fingers curled around her hand and held it there. His singing subsided, and his thin line for a mouth spread into a smirk.

"You are mine," he hissed, and Alice's world fell into darkness.

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Author's Note: Hello there, dear readers! I'm terribly sorry for the – what was it, a month long wait? – to get this chapter up. As I have said in other chapters, I'm dealing with a lot of family stuff. I won't explain what it is, just know that I am trying my best to manage things, school, and still update this. I have abandoned this story!

Phew, with that out of the way, I hope you all enjoyed this chapter! I have started chapter ten, however I might rewrite the beginning because I don't like how it's turning out. I'm suffering from a bit of writer's block, so hopefully that goes away soon.

THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR ALL YOUR LOVELY REVIEWS! I love reading them and they mean so much to me!

THOUGHT TO PONDER: What would you do if Slender Man showed up in your room? :p Would you run or would you let him whisk you away into a land of enchantment?

Disclaimer: The lyrics at the beginning belong to Deftones.

The song that the Slender Man sings is a poem written by my favorite poet, Edgar Allan Poe. It is called Come Little Children. I modified it slightly to fit my story.

Thanks again for reading, I hope you enjoyed, and please review! :)