Yay! An update!
I wish I could reply to guest comments. :/
The evening was closing in, though the sun wouldn't set for another two hours. With trained ears and eyes, you listened and watched for any unpredicted variables that may distort the original plan. Slenderman would alert his Proxies when the targets were in position when it was time to move. You stayed low in the brush as best as you could. To your surprise, there wasn't as much cover available as you expected. No matter; there was enough.
Daylight gradually grew dimmer. Dusk drew nearer. It seemed as though Jane Otters wouldn't show, but wasn't that easily accessible information for your master to discover? What was taking so long? Why weren't you receiving any updates? Your attunement to Slenderman's broadcasts had been established long enough, so you surely weren't experiencing any sort of difficulty with that. Had something else happened? Should you abandon your post to investigate? Hell, Slenderman hasn't said anything about your current anxieties, so there had to be something amiss.
Just as you stood, giving in to your concerns, someone came running through the thin vegetation from behind you. A feminine voice called out right as you whipped around to face the ambusher, "Your master's in trouble. He sent me to get you!" It was a young woman; pale, slender, and long-legged. Her contrasting dark attire covered most of her body. The wavy, dark-brown locks that framed her face also draped over her right eye. Three deep, dark, vertical scars reached out from below the newcomer's visible right eyelid, stretching down the majority of her cheek. "We have to go," she urged, waving for you to follow.
Anyone could understand you being hesitant, at this point. Something was going wrong, and now a stranger appeared to retrieve you? Slenderman had allies, yes, but wouldn't he have used someone more familiar to you? Maybe she was already in the area. At this point, you didn't have too much of a choice. She didn't look like an enemy, at least. "What's your name," you requested. Somehow, knowing a name put you somewhat at ease.
"Iris," the woman responded, still moving away from you with urgency. You hadn't heard that name before, not while in the Creepypasta business, anyway. Hopefully, that wasn't a bad thing.
You followed.
Deep into the woods, you were lead; winding and dodging through the limbs of foliage that tried to stop you with their hooked fingers. Iris turned here and there to make sure you were stilling following. She vaguely explained that a Zalgoid had attacked Slenderman. Your fellow Proxies were already safe elsewhere.
Hiding in the waves of crashing branches and rustling leaves, you swore you could hear familiar whispers. They grew louder with each step you took in Iris' path, yet whatever the multitudes of voices were saying remained incoherent. Just as you considered asking Iris if she could hear it, too, you saw the red-haired woman look over her shoulder once again. Her eyes were sunken and enveloped in darkness. Inky, black insects swarmed from her gaping mouth. It was then that you understood what was going on.
A solid force tackled you from the side, sending you to the ground. The whispers scratched at your ear canals, and colors began to melt. You fought against your attacker, struggling to get a hand on one of your knives. When you laid eyes on its face, you saw similar effects to Iris' - darkness spilling out of orifices, accompanied by equally dark bugs and oily vines. No matter how many times you experienced such sensations, you could never steel yourself to them. Your heart rapidly clashed against its cage. A Zalgoid had attacked you. From the sounds of it, others were approaching. Did they get Iris, too?
Two more Zalgoid demons pinned each arm to the leafy floor. Iris approached with a casual stride. "You're not here to help, are you," the words slipped past your lips with little hesitation. It was ever apparent that you had been tricked.
"I'm here to help Lord Zalgo," Iris sneered. "He has questions that must be answered."
"Why interrogate me? I'm the newest Proxy," you narrowed your eyes at the woman, not even bothering to fight the demons. God, the horrors that slithered and swarmed around were surreal, but you did your best to ignore them.
Iris pulled a heavily used journal and pen from inside her jacket, "Oh, don't worry about that. You have all the answers we need." Cracking open the blood-stained textile, Iris readied herself to begin taking notes. "Now. Let's see what's your story."
You stuttered and stammered over pleas for the Zalgoids to wait and hear you out, but they ignored you as though your voice was drowned out by the increasing volume of whispers. The demonesque beings began clawing at your body, shredding your clothes and flesh. Iris briskly recorded the exchanges between you and your torturers, though she had a conflicting appearance of discomfort and bemusement.
It wasn't until this moment that you realized the harsh whispers hadn't completely overwhelmed the rest of your senses; you wished they had. The hot claws of the Zalgoids felt like molten rakes marking your skin. The last thing on your mind was how grotesque the scars would turn out if you lived through this. On the back of your neck, you could still feel the itch of leaves crunching beneath your writhing form. A fleeting reminiscence of BEN's dreamworld attack flashed through your mind. If you were screaming, you couldn't hear yourself.
Saliva pooled in the back of your throat. You sputtered with each chest-heaving shriek, splattering the greenish fluid onto your offenders. A droplet or two landed on the grinning chomps of one demon. He licked it away with pleasure before returning to his toothy cackles. It was intimidating to feel the near-effortless strength of these beings as they held your body to the ground. Still, you struggled for freedom; a fruitless endeavor, it seemed. You were beginning to lose consciousness.
Shortly before the tables turned in your favor, the Zalgoid who had ingested a taste of your flinging saliva began to seize and foam at the mouth. It soon vomited onto your chest a gruesome blend of partially digested flesh and blood. If any of the contents were its own, you couldn't tell. As for the other two demons, they had paused their torture to cast quizzical eyes at their ally. Iris continued to slowly circle around and scribble your "story". The suffering Zalgoid was collapsed to the ground within seconds, still heaving its stomach clean, if not completely out of its body.
It was then that you felt a surge of new strength throughout your body. You wasted no time to through the demons off, slashing at them with claws you didn't remember having. A snarl escaped your clenched teeth, bubbling the steady ooze of saliva and venom. Though it didn't hurt, your body was changing; it was morphing into something inhuman.
"That's all we need," Iris' distorted voice sounded from somewhere in the vicinity. "Zalgo will want to see this in person." At that, the two remaining demons tackled you once again, making the world melt into darkness before you could react.
As soon as colors began to warp and twist into view, you were restrained by strange bindings, not unlike chains. Each arm and leg had its own chain.
He comes. The familiar announcement of countless whispers boomed above all else.
With searching eyes, you tried to separate hallucination from reality, but everything in this new location was a psychedelic nightmare of twisted structures and mind-melting physics. None of this was soothing your animalistic temper. You resorted to leaving your lips parted enough for the endless flow of drool to leak out.
He comes. Zalgoid demons and Creepypasta minions gathered around. Their distorted faces flowed with dark insects of chaos.
You struggled against your metallic captors to no avail. Beating like a violent war drum, your heart fueled the fire within.
He comes. A dark mass slithered from all directions and combined in front of you. The darkness grew into a humanoid figure that you had yet to forget - Zalgo.
He is here. The announcing voices rang out one last time before dying to a tolerable white noise of whispering gibberish.
Zalgo held a curious gaze down to you. He seemed pleased with your presence, for whatever reason. All but the one mouth parted to speak, "So, Slenderman has been trying to tame a feral pre-mutation. I knew I had smelled something rugged when I first saw you." He stepped closer to you. "We can't have that pompous prick befriending a mutual enemy; not when I could be controlling you." His face melted before your eyes, yet he held his form. To be hallucinating under the influence of the Darkness for so long was taking a toll on your mind. You weren't sure how much longer you could hold consciousness.
From the side, Iris approached Zalgo and presented her journal to him. Most likely, it involved you and what happened earlier. Zalgo's red eyes scanned over the notes quickly, his mouths broadening their grins with each word. He chuckled darkly. "A pet for me. A pet for me!" He gleefully began to sing, though the tone quickly grew sinister, "A pet to poke and prod and lead. A pet for me! A pet, you see! Just what I need to kill ol' Slendy!"
At that, you began your confusing and torturous montage of skipping memories. Rarely were you conscious, and if so, what you could remember was spotty. You remembered defending yourself to the best of your restricted abilities. You remember swatting demons away with a tail you never had before. You remembered striking at them, fangs bared, like a serpent. Each time you regained some form of human consciousness, you were being tormented by Zalgoids - their master supervising from the background.
Zalgo's teasing sneer ingrained into your memory the deepest.
Cool droplets of lingering rain kissed your skin. Soggy earth and debris cradled your collapsed form. Opening your eyes, you found a woodland atmosphere all around. It was a dramatic change from Zalgo's territory. Even those few memories felt unreal - much like the foggy sensation of a nightmare. This forest, however, was the familiar mix of orange, red, yellow, and black found in Slender territory. It only made sense that something happened during your hostage situation with the Zalgoids to have gotten you here.
Why were you abandoned here, though? Didn't Zalgo have plans for you?
You sat up, realizing your nude state, along with finding damage to yourself - and your master, who lay unconscious several feet away.
Later on, you would learn what happened during your episode of feral blindness. You would learn that Zalgo had discovered what Slenderman feared: how to neutralize a Slender's abilities.
Zalgo had attached a disruptor device to your feral body. Undoubtedly, such a task was a feat in itself. A fair number of minions lost their lives to your ruthless defenses. Once equipped, Zalgo released you onto Slenderman's territory, knowing that your master would detect your presence and come searching. It was, of course, a trap. What a more humiliating way than to be defeated by one's own Proxy? And a Proxy that should never have been at that!
Slenderman easily found you, though he held his distance. There was no hiding the disruptor's effects on him, but it at least had a limited range. Once you caught wind of him, things spiraled out of control. His Proxy had been suppressed by the very thing he tried to bridle within you.
Weakened by the disruptor, your master was at a great disadvantage. The device had even been amped up to jumble Slenderman's fourth-dimensional aura. Fighting a feral was now more than a challenge for him; trying to subdue you increased the difficulty, but he was determined to keep you alive.
Your feral form was agile and slick. Slenderman found it hard to restrain you with his tendrils. Each attempt to strike you commonly ended with a miss. The occasional connection was made, but your wild instincts shrugged off the initial pain. You recovered from his attacks much too quickly. Though you moved on four legs, your body slithered through the air like a serpent swimming in the sea.
"_!" Slenderman would call your name, but his voice landed on deaf ears. "Wake up! I can still sense you within this beast." He tried his best to unencumber you from the disruptor, but you dodged without knowledge of his true intent.
A solid bite on Slenderman's arm froze the tall being in place. You held on, letting the endless flow a venom contaminate his interior. Your pair of fangs easily punctured straight through Slenderman's scrawny limb. The pause in the fight gave Slenderman time to notice his body taking devastating effects from the disruptor's signals - the air around him was distorting; he was distorting. Here, your master collected himself and seized his moment to rip off the disrupter from your neck. At the mere tug of the thick collar, you shook your head like a dog with its toy. It was enough force to aid Slenderman in his endeavor, and the collar snapped loose.
Slenderman tossed the disruptor, collar and all, as far as he could muster. It was just enough to tumble beyond the device's signal range, but the effects had done their job. Your master was weakened; he was injured and now slowly feeling the effects of your venom. He knew he wouldn't last much longer in this battle. Damn Savage Creepypastas.
With no hope of you releasing his arm, the Tall One did the next best thing he could do to an animal such as yourself: he repeatedly punched your short snout. It didn't take many swings to encourage you to let go, but your fangs aided in the lingering hold. With a short session of wriggling, you slipped free and rolled away from your attacker. Blood and mucus sprayed from your nostrils as you snorted in protest of the stinging pain. You pawed at your nose, just as any animal would in your situation. You were distracted.
Curled, distorted tendrils lunged to you. Slenderman wasted no time to land the blows he needed, but only a small few actually connected; the other tendrils seemed to faze through you, changing those small areas of fur and scales into patches of human flesh. Slenderman's barely controlled aura was taking effect on you - whether good or bad, he wasn't sure. With what damage your master was able to do, he noticed you heavily flinch. You wouldn't be sucker-punched again. Slenderman used his hands to distract you, hoping that their aggressive movements would hold your attention while he tried to send a round of tendril punches to your head.
It worked, for the most part. Most of the blunted appendages fazed through you again, but the ones that carried out their mission rendered you unconscious and limp over the ground - he hoped. A portion of your head was paused in limbo when it had been affected by the fourth-dimensional distortions. The area was shrunken and beginning to show signs of human-like qualities. Slenderman passingly wondered if your brain had been modified as well.
After holding up his defensive stance for several long moments, Slenderman was convinced that you were down for the count. Thank goodness his strength had held up long enough to knock you out. He collapsed to the ground, exhausted and miserable. The venom coursing through his veins was taking its toll on him - pain and limpness setting in. Even so, your master couldn't focus on much else than your quiet form, wondering if you would come back to him as his Proxy or a Feral.
"_," Slenderman called to you from within the confines of your warped mind. He did his best to reach beyond the hysterical and primitive rambling, beyond the anxieties of your human self fighting for control. You were just barely out of reach, "_!" Still, your master called for you with heartfelt longing, full of emotions that had been locked up for some time.
You didn't respond.
The effort was enough to weaken Slenderman into losing consciousness as well. A fleeting thought of curiosity swept of his mind, wondering if he was comfortable with dying in such a manner.
Awakening to the gentle beginnings of a growing downpour, you found yourself in the middle of a familiar woodland. Your naked and battered body flinched at the cold droplets that hit you like tiny carpet-bombs. Some several feet away was your master, collapse to the dampened forest floor. Immediately, your chest burned with joy to see him, but quickly ached at his tattered state. You crawled to Slenderman, having trouble with finding your balance, even on all fours.
As soon as you reached the long being, you realized many things: he was barely alive, still breathing, and heavily wounded by something with green saliva. No matter how much you denied it, the truth roared in your head like a lion. Whatever was happening to you had done this. The strange saliva you had been waking up to in your bed and spitting on people when you were angry; the dreams you were having of a strange serpent-wolf hybrid; even the portions of memories you could barely recall while Zalgo's captive; you had done this to your master.
The only thing you knew to do was get Slenderman back to the mansion - if only you knew which direction that was. Would calling for help be a good idea? Would you attract allies or enemies in doing so?
For the time being, you struggled to drag your much larger master in hopes of finding some sort of shelter. To hell with your nudity! There were much worse things at stake. You wouldn't allow Slenderman to die, if you could help it.
The best you could do was loop your arms underneath Slenderman's and drag him backward. You tried to monitor your direction, looking behind you every few steps, but the heavy rain soaking your hair and face made it that much more challenging. Goosebumps littered your skin, and you were sure there was a tint of purple fading in.
An unknown amount of time passed by, and you had somehow traveled a great distance. Still, nothing looked familiar; wherever you were in the Slender Family territory, you had no clue. The dreary weather didn't let up, either. You were shaking and shivering against the cold rain, now. Slenderman showed no sign of waking up. Somewhere along the way, one of his shoes fell off after being dragged along the rough forest floor for so long. The other shoe was well on its way to being lost as well. If you had never felt misery before, this surely was it.
Why had none of Slenderman's brothers come to rescue him? Did they even know what had happened? Was anyone in the mansion aware?
Just as you considered giving up to die with your master, you glanced over your shoulder one last time, hoping to seem a glimmer of hope in any fashion. There, blending in with the woodland scenery a fair distance away, you noticed the rough shape of an abandoned cabin peaking from behind a thick gathering of trees. This was enough to fuel your fire for survival and course a new surge of energy through your veins. You tugged against Slenderman's weight, grunting with determination, and painstakingly made it to the old cabin.
The small building was falling apart. Its porch barely held together, but managed to support you and your master. Inside, you could see that portions of the roof had collapsed, but there was enough room for shelter just near the door. All you wanted was a dry place and a warm fire. Making the fire would be a challenge in itself, considering the oversaturated conditions for the time being. Still, you managed to tear off some cloth from scattered furniture that had yet to be tainted by the rain. Portions of the collapsed roof were splintered and dry, which you greedily collected into a pile near Slenderman. With the cloth and two sticks, you did your best to start even a small fire. From there, you could find a way to make it grow - or hoped to.
You were successful, though it took longer than you preferred. The tiny fire warmed your small shelter a couple of degrees, but you wanted more. At least there as no wind to accompany the downpour. Your skin quickly dried, leaving you with the discomfort of both chill and tightening epidermis. Slenderman was quite the opposite; his clothes soaked and tarnished from the journey. You weren't even sure if he was alive at this point. Maybe you could use his suit jacket to keep warm. If the being was dead, he wouldn't be needing it any longer. First, you would need to dry it.
Reluctantly, you worked the jacket off of your master. His body was still loose, yet limp, which made his arms easy to pull from the sleeves. On the last arm, however, your goal changed at the sound of a solid object hitting the old wood flooring. It rolled toward the fire, where it stopped just within the radius of light. Your attention was quickly stolen by the object's appearance: a small, glass vial with a white label around its body. You dropped the suit jacket and plucked the container of liquid from its new resting place. Upon further examination, with the aid of flickering firelight, you found the vial's label inscribed with straightforward handwriting: "_ Antitoxin".
An antidote for you.
Fingers traced over your lips as memories of your strange drooling episodes flashed through your mind. You recalled how Jeff mysteriously fell ill sometime after your argument. The Zalgoid minion that writhed and hurled its intestines after getting a good taste of your flying saliva. The fact that Slenderman was severely injured and stained by green-tinted fluids just like your own. He knew what was going on this entire time. Your master had been dodging your questions and hiding secrets about you since the day you met him. He had been preparing for this. He knew that somehow - someway - he would lose control of the feral creature within you.
With eyes newly opened by realization, you gazed over the still form of Slenderman, wondering if it was too late. Not only that, but how would you administer the antidote? Slenderman's mouth was sealed shut, and you highly doubted that slicing it open was a good idea. You resorted to searching your master's suit jacket, hoping there was a syringe that had yet to reveal itself. Luckily, there was one. It's pristine glory as tucked neatly within the inner pocket. You wasted no time uncapping the syringe and vial, then filled the small needle with every drop of antitoxin that you could. As to where you should inject the fluids, you had no clue - a vein, most likely. You didn't sit long on your indecisiveness, stabbing the needle into Slenderman's neck; you were pretty sure you could see the faint shadow of a vein there.
Slowly, painfully, you pushed the plunger down, hoping that you weren't going too fast; hoping that you were doing this right; hoping that it wasn't too late.
The syringe emptied. Slenderman laid still. You tossed the device aside, having no further use for it. The movies lied about people immediately waking up after administering a cure. That or Slenderman truly was dead. You hesitated to get up, eyes locked on your master's lacking face in hopes that you would see some sign of life. Upon further thought, his hands would be better indicators.
You decided to busy yourself with finding more wood for the fire. It wasn't too difficult of a task, but your sources were limited. The bits of dry cloth were used as catalysts when the fire fell too low, giving it a short boost. You found a place to hang Slenderman's suit jacket. It wasn't the best, nor was the jacket spread evenly, but it was better than soaking into what little dry flooring you had. Eventually, you had nothing else to do but wait. A nap beckoned you, but you were terrified of that SCP taking over and attacking Slenderman again. Instead, you curled up to your master, the damp, yet warm clothes soothing to your cool flesh. You relished in the fire's radiating heat upon your back. You entwined your fingers with his, wanting to detect any sign of life as soon as it might happen.
The wait was torturous; completely on a different level than what Zalgo had done to you. Sleep fought to conquer your mind, but you fought harder. The shadows of the fire danced with the white-noise of wood crackling and rain impacting everything in its path.
It didn't take long for your mind to wander, reflecting on recent events. You worried for your Proxy brethren, hoping that they weren't hurt by Zalgo and his minions - or worse. Sure, Masky would have personally benefited from possible death, but you had hoped his view on life changed by now. He seemed happier; engaging. Hoodie was helpful and open, too. There was a rough and gruff air about him, but that was just his personality. Toby was - Toby; Slenderman's most loyal Proxy. You couldn't wait to see them again.
Again, your mind shifted. You wondered about Slenderman. Why did he come for you? Why did he come alone? Your master must have felt some sort of culpability for the entire matter. Did he think he had made another error? Considering how prideful and methodical Slenderman was, one could only wonder what was distracting him from typical order. Was it the stress of controlling and suppressing a Savage Creepypasta? Or was it something you were still unaware of? So many questions stirred like a whirlwind. Your chest melted with the warmth that followed thoughts of your master coming to rescue you.
Now it had been your turn to rescue him. You hoped you would be successful. Without him, would you become a feral again, left to remain a brutish monster?
It was unclear how much time had passed. The only indication was slacked-off rain, which now drizzled in soft sheets. The fire was dimming, but you had dried off and warmed up significantly. You rose up to check the suit jacket, hoping to finally have some amount of clothing. It was still somewhat damp, but tolerable, enough for you to slip it on and wrap the large jacket around in as secure of a manner as you could. You felt like it was some kind of thick moo-moo, but it would do. You were warm.
Fingers brushed against your ankle, to which you flinched before spinning around to face your personal space violator. To your utmost relief, you found Slenderman gazing up to you with an expression only you and few others could detect; even fewer have seen this particular one: awe.
Your master was in awe of your presence. He even seemed to hint at relief. No words emitted from him, though. Instead, Slenderman reached up to you and gripped your forearm before tugging you down to the floor. You didn't resist his guidance, happy to fall into his arms and warm embrace - even if his clothes were still uncomfortably saturated.