A/N- Yeah, I figured that I should update right away or I might get killed by one of my reviewers.
This was not what Mothy had been expecting when the Slenderman showed up. He knew that the Deal Maker and his little Demy-On wanted to draw the entity here. He had never been told, though, what the purpose of bringing Slendy here was. It seemed that the Deal Maker, the real Master, had something against the Slenderman or at the very least that he wanted him dead. This did not make sense, though. For as long as Mothman had known the Deal Maker, he had never once been far out of Point Pleasant. Then again, he had known the Demy-On's home town well enough to know the roads that would lead directly to her hospital.
What a mistake it had been to try and deal with this Master. All he had gotten out of this deal was torture. He had never gotten paid for bringing the once human and now Demy-On to this place. It was always the same for him; try to make a deal and get dumped on in the end. Perhaps all the other nonhumans were right. Maybe trying to better one's self, make oneself more human, was a futile effort that should be avoided. Still, he insisted on clinging to his little shred of hope that he could one day perhaps have his entire humanity back.
Still, this could not be his focus. Mothy knew that he had to do something to help the entity that was being tortured in front of him. The little Demy-On was not saying anything to her prey, merely slicing the flesh at random areas and watching the blood flow. How many days had she done the exact same thing to him? This simply was not right. He could sense that the two were connected in some way, and seeing as Slender was not trying to fight her, it had to be a strong connection. Something had to be done, though. Slen was losing too much blood and far too quickly.
"Fight back," he growled down at the Slenderman, letting his voice come out as an inhuman growl. If everyone else here was going to act inhuman, why shouldn't he? There was no point in trying to act human in this situation. Seeing as the Tall One merely stayed where he was, the Mothman began fighting against the chains which bound him. So be it if he did irreparable damage to his body and wings. All he needed was the ability to get free and run from this place. Still fighting the hooked chains, he growled again to the other nonhuman, "Damn you, Slenderman. Fight back!"
Fight back? Slen questioned quietly, his mind dark what with all of the pain he was feeling. His body was growing numb as his attacker continued with her knife work across his flesh. The suit coat had already been ripped away and the white dress shirt underneath was now simply bloody rags hanging limply against his body. He was being told to fight back against his opponent, but how could he? This was his wife, the one he loved. He did not wish to see fear in her eyes ever again. Then again, these were not quite her eyes, now were they? She had been changed since he had last seen her.
She was no longer his Ellaina. She had become something else, what with her altered Fibers and near-demonic eyes. Whatever she was, she was no longer human. This is what Slender told himself, what he used as an excuse, to try and push her away from him. But, he had lost so much blood. How weak his body had become as a result of her onslaught. He was able to hold her at bay, though he was not certain that he could fight her off. It seemed that whatever had been done to her had affected her physical body as well, making her far stronger than he remembered.
The other presence who had been watching from the shadows was beginning to become annoyed with the whole situation. His little creation, his little Demy-On, was not doing her job as she had been told. She had been instructed to kill this Slenderman, not just torture him. And now, that blasted bug was getting in the way of things. He should have just squashed him when the chance had presented itself, but no he had allowed his pet to play with the red-eyed beast. This other, the Master, knew that it was time for him to intervene and push things along. He could not be the one to kill the Slenderman, if his plan were to work out properly. The one to kill him had to be the little former human, the one who's Fibers he had altered.
The Master was about to make himself known when his captured prey, his pet's plaything, suddenly broke free from the chained bindings. The Master had never suspected that the Moth would be willing to go through self-mutilation in order to save a friend. What a weak quality. He had known from the start that using this cryptid was a bad idea. There were so many others that he could have used, but he had chosen this one because it possessed intelligence. It was a mistake that the Master would not allow himself to make again.
Pain was something that the Mothman was not entirely used to, so the burning pain where the hooks had ripped free from his body made his world spin. Still, he could not very well focus on this for the moment. He had to get to the Slenderman before the Deal Maker could stop him. He knew that he and Slender needed to escape this place here and now or it would be the end of them, a very bloody end of them.
Using his own powers, he altered the electricity, causing it to spark violently around the Master before cutting out. The Dome was now shrouded in darkness, the only source of light coming from Red Eyes. Not for the first time, he wished that his eyes were normal, but he did not allow himself to focus on that for the moment. He moved with an inhuman grace and speed to the side of the Slenderman. He grabbed the once human by her collar and tossed her-very much like a ragdoll-off of the Slenderman. The Mothman forced Slender to his feet and began dragging the other out of the old abandoned Dome. They needed to escape before the Master had the chance to capture them. If he did there would be no escaping his wrath. Both would be dead in a matter of seconds.
The loss of blood had altered his perception, so Slen was not entirely certain what was going on at the moment. All he knew was that someone was pulling him up from the ground, out of his pool of blood, and leading him seemingly out of the Dome. But, where were they going? What about Ellaina? He had come here to save her, hadn't he? Slen was not so sure any longer, but he followed whoever was leading him away from the pain. He knew that he was being lead quickly through the woods, and he knew that the woods were a safe place. He could relax here. Finally, the Slenderman allowed darkness to take his mind.
Mothman grunted, feeling the Slenderman suddenly drop from his guiding arm. The cryptid looked back to find that his companion had collapsed on the forest floor. This was not what he had planned in trying to escape from the others. There was also the fact that a blizzard had started up, making traveling all the more difficult. Now was not the time to be taking a nap. He came back to the nonhuman, trying to get the battered man to wake up and get to his feet. It seemed to be an utterly futile effort.
"Oh where, or where, has my Slenderman gone? Oh where, oh where could he be?" a voice sang out from somewhere else in the woods. It would not take a genius to figure out whom this feminine, demonic voice belonged to. Ellaina was following them, and growing closer it seemed.
"Mist," Mothman cursed in some language he had once picked up. Seeing as his companion was not about to awaken any time soon, the cryptid picked up the other and began moving them as quickly as he could through the woods. They needed to get far away and quickly. Seeing as Slender would not be able to teleport them away, the only option they had seemed to be flight. That was something that Mothy knew would not be fun, but what choice did he have? If they wished to escape in one piece, he would have to sacrifice his own comfort.
Without more thought on the matter, the Mothman took to the skies, hoping that his battered wings could support his weight and get them to the desired location without being detected by the enemies. If the citizens of the town were to see him, so be it. A sighting would do well for their economy and the tourist industry. What an odd thought that was. He was running for his life from two demonic forces and all he could think on was the economy. He was strange, indeed.
Slenderman woke some time later, not entirely knowing where he was. He knew, however, that something bad must have happened to him if the pain in his body was anything to go by. Groaning, he forced himself to sit up, only now realizing that he was lying in an old bed. He brought his hands up to his face, wanting to try and stimulate himself into a wakeful state. Feeling a shock of pain when his hands brushed over damaged tissue, Slen quickly pulled his hands back. There was black blood all over his hands, and he could not understand why. Had the chemical tried to kill him again? No, this felt different than that.
The sound of a door opening took Slender's attention. He forced himself to his feet, preparing to fight whatever might come in. He planned to use the tendrils to defend himself, but he found that they…were not there. They were gone. This finding sent him quite nearly into shock. He fell back onto the bed into a defeated sitting position. He barely registered the Mothman entering the room.
"You have woken," the cryptid stated while his human eyes went to looking the other up and down. He had managed to remove the rag that was once a shirt from the Slenderman, clean the wounds, and bandage them to the best of his ability. The face had been left alone, for Mothy had not been certain how to care for that area, or to care for it at all.
Slender tried to focus on this other. It took a moment, but he eventually recognized the human form of the Mothman, Indrid Cold. It had been quite some time since he had last seen the human form of this being. It had been since the collapse of the Silver Bridge, when he had allowed one human called John Klein see this form. What happened to me? The need to know was overpowering everything. He could vaguely remember someone attacking him, but who? Who had the power to beat him and injure him so severely?
Indrid sighed, crossing his arms over his chest. "You came searching for the human and found her replacement, the Demy-On." He did not want to be the one to tell him of what had happened. It had been found, through the Slenderman's mumblings, that the former human was his wife. It was not what the Mothman had expected. Then again, he had not expected to be where they were. Neither had the owner of this home, but that was another matter entirely.
Demy-On? Indrid, Mothman, whatever I am to call you, do try to make sense. Slen questioned, not understanding. It was a term that he had either never encountered or had forgotten. It seemed that bits and pieces of his memory were evading him, and that was something that he did not like in the least. He felt as though he were losing control of himself.
This would not end well, Indrid knew. Resigning to just put all of the facts on the line, he began his explanation, "A Demy-On is a human who is becoming demonic due to being from Hell. It may be that the Devil wants the human or that the Hell-bound being simply wants to have some fun. In this case I would believe that it is a bit of both. You've no memory of what happened?"
Slender took in the new information. He did not remember a thing. There were blurry images swimming through his head, but nothing was coherent. The entity forced himself to his feet and came to stand before the now-human Mothman, Indrid. The need to know what was happening drove the Slenderman on, making him reach out to take the other's hand in his own. Vision of what happened swam through his head.
There was no way for Indrid to filter out any of the images that the Slenderman was pulling from him. He had not suspected that Slen would do this, so he had not been prepared. Most times, he could show others his visions-be them past or future-in snippets, what he wanted to be shown. Still, even in his weakened state, the Slenderman was able to overpower his filtering and see everything.
Pulling back suddenly, his breath harsh again, Slender turned away from his companion. I do not believe this to be the truth. Why show me what is fake? He turned suddenly back to face the other, wanting to deny what he had seen. The look in the other's eyes left no room for argument. The truth was being shown, it seemed. He looked down to the floor, not knowing what to say.
"You do know that the only way to deal with a demon is to-" Indrid began.
Do not say it, Indrid. I know full well. I will not kill her. I can change her back, Slender replied, trying to force determination into his voice rather than utter defeat. There was no way to change back one who was becoming a demon, he knew somehow. Damn his knowledge. He could prove this inborn fact wrong. He had to. He could not give up on her. I will go to her now. I-
Indrid grabbed the other and gave the slightest push, causing Slen to lose his balance and quite nearly topple to the ground. He would have, had Mothy not steadied him at the last moment. "You are in no stable condition to fight. You have been in a near coma for a month. Klein was beginning to believe you had passed on."
Slender growled slightly, irked that the cryptid was right on this matter. He would need to rebuild his strength and powers and somehow figure out how to fight without the tendrils. Then again, he could probably make the chemical. Wait no; he would not need to make it at all. His hand went into his pocket, pulling out the small vial his departed mother had left behind. He always kept this with him. He had a way to fix himself, though he knew it would be painful.
Pocketing the vial once again, Slen looked back onto the human face of the Mothman. The human side of the being was quite handsome. It was odd that the man had never found someone he could connect to. Even he, blank face and all, had managed to find someone. He looked the man over before bringing his nonexistent eyes over his own body. He still wore the same dress slacks, but now he was in a ridiculous sports jersey, supporting some sort of team called the Rangers.
Then it came to him, what his companion had said. He looked up to the Mothman, wishing that the other could see his amused internal smile. I am most certain that your old friend, John Klein, was happy to see you again, especially with a friend.
Ah, there it was. Slender was slowly falling back to his normal self, Indrid surmised. It would not take long for the man to heal. "Oh yes, he was most pleasantly surprised to see me. Why do you not go and meet him? I will take you to him."
Allow me, Slender replied, taking the other's arm. He managed to teleport them into the kitchen where he sensed the presence of a human. This little trick took too much effort on his part, Slen realized rather quickly. He would need to build up his strength, but for now he could greet the terrified man who looked about ready to die of fright from his and Indrid's sudden appearance.
Indrid smiled slightly at his fearful, human host. "I do hope that we did not scare you too much. I tried to tell him not to teleport, but he did not give me the chance."
Slen laughed slightly. Are you always so prim and proper, my dear Mothy?
Eyes flashing red, the other retorted, "I told you not to call me that."
Come now, Mothy, you are scaring the host of this home. Slender turned his attention fully to the human now. The man did not seem all that special, but there was something about him that made Slen want to trust him. Odd, very few humans possessed this quality. Perhaps this was why Mothy was willing to stay with him. It was something he could think on later. He made his way to stand before the man, and offered his hand. It was a sign of…something. Slender could not entirely remember. Ellaina had told him. Was it a greeting? And speaking of greetings, Slenderman finally stated, You have no reason to fear me, human. You have housed me and therefore have earned my protection. I am what you humans call der Ritter. der Groβman. I am the Slenderman. It is a pleasure to meet you, John Klein.
John Klein, the owner of the house, the host to the two entities, promptly passed out.
A/N- I do not own John Klein. He comes from the movie/book The Mothman Prophecies.