Hey, everyone!
This chapter is a continuation of the cliff-hanger from last chapter as well as establishing a headcannon for my Pasta Universe.
I want to admit it now, I enjoy the brutality and evil of creepypastas as much as the next fan. Really, I do! But…
It just doesn't settle right with me when innocents are killed. It really bothers me when the innocent kid dies or the caring mom dies or the good dad dies. And don't get me started on nice, old people dying horribly.
Although I absolutely love it when the evil abusive child molester is pulped or the rapist gets his d*ck ripped off. It's that poetic justice that makes it more justified in my eyes. I mean, it's still Creepypasta, so there'll be some random-people deaths, but I'll focus on more poetic justice.
So a large portion of this chapter is dedicated to designing the world Harry lives in and giving a basis and headcannon for the Creepypastas besides just the usual habitual, for-the-Hell-of-it murder and bloodlust. I'm taking a bit of a different approach here to try this out.
Also, "Creativity, not Reality". The headcanon I create in this chapter applies to a fictional world where 150 year old wizards are conniving to defeat undead dark lords using the power of an adolescent who prefers to ride on a broomstick to catch magical, flying balls. This is not our reality.
Sincerely,
-Crow
P.S. Trigger warning for violence and death in 3…2…
*Crash!*
The man fell onto the glass panel of his living room coffee table, blood boiling in his veins and leaking out of them simultaneously. These two punks got in his house and they were sure as Hell going to pay for it.
He grabbed one of the shards of glass and slashed at one of the two. He grinned as his shard met its mark right in the arm of the freak with a face mask and goggles, but the kid just chuckled and ripped the shard out without even wincing at the pain, if he felt it.
"Nice shot, sir." He said monotonously. "Now it's our turn."
"WHAT THE F*CK DO YOU FREAKS WANT!?" He shouted. They just bashed down his door and started attacking him. He felt he had a right to at least know why.
The freak with the carved grin and bloodshot eyes leaned close and shoved him back into the mess of shards from the table. He cried out as they made multiple slits on his hands, pretty much rendering them useless.
"We want you to pay for what you did." He replied.
"What I did!?" The man said incredulously. "What the Hell is that supposed to mean?!"
"You know exactly what you did, you bastard." The grinning creep said. "We've been watching you for a while. We know all about Jimmy."
The man's blood froze. "Wh-what the Hell are you doing near my son?!" He demanded.
"His mother's son." Facemask corrected. "She got the custody rights. She was a good mother to him. She didn't beat the crap out of him 'just because he was there', you sicko. Meanwhile, you lost the case because a) you're a drunk, b) you're a habitual gambler and tossed away your family's life savings… twice, and c) you almost gave the kid severe brain damage from the 'accidental' fall down the stairs."
"What's more." Grinning kid added. "After the court order, she has a right to be around him in a park. She is okay to approach him. She didn't throw him into a tree when the poor kid reacted badly to seeing his "father" grab him from the swings set."
The man growled. Those psychos were following him. Jimmy had been sent to the ER for that incident and he'd fled before the police could ID him. That was over a week ago and the police hadn't been able to pin anything on him. When Jimmy woke up from the coma, he couldn't remember anything beyond going to the park in the first place.
"So what?" He hissed. "He's my son. My flesh and blood. That bitch doesn't have the right to keep him to herself. Ever heard of visitation rights?"
"Yes, and those were summarily confiscated by court of law and a restraining order was issued instead." Facemask said calmly.
"So what?! She had it out for me ever since I married her! The kid's ten, he can make his own f*cking decisions!"
Facemask twitched before murmuring. "He's 16 he can walk by himself *."
"What?" The man said incredulously. What the f*ck is wrong with this wackjob? He thought.
Grinning kid spoke for Facemask. "He means; the kid's twelve. You can't even remember your kid's age."
"I don't see what the Hell that has to do wi-"
The man was cut off as Facemask produced two axes from his back and held one just above his jugular. The kid leaned in close and he could smell gasoline fumes and smoke coming off the guy's clothes.
"You know, you remind me of my father." The kid twitched erratically and with one hand, he swiftly removed the facemask and goggles to reveal gray eyes with a psychotic glint and half of his cheek torn off, exposing red gums and bone-white teeth.
He pressed on the blade.
"I HATED MY FATHER!"
Jeff finished picking some annoying dirt that got under his fingernails and looked up to see Toby panting heavily over the bloody remains of the abusive father. He felt sorry for the landlady of the apartment complex.
Blood and guts were so freaking hard to clean out of white fabrics and carpets. He knew, he had to clean his hoodie, after all.
Still, he patted the twitchy, ticci Toby on the back. "Nice one-liner."
Toby did a complete 180 and was back to his goofy self. "Thanks! I thought it was pretty bad ass, dont'cha think?"
Jeff nodded. "Yeah, but you were way too serious when you did it. Think you need my help?"
He raised his knife and gestured to his carved cheeks while pantomiming a slashing motion.
Toby snickered. "No thanks. I'm already halfway there." He gestured to the gash. He glanced at the body and looked thoughtful. "Except this guy looks pretty down."
Jeff looked at the dead corpse and nodded. "Yeah you're right."
He gripped the head of the body by the hair and leaned in. "Hey, man."
The white-skinned psychopath with scraggly, long hair leered at the man with a self-carved grin marring his face. He stuck the blade of his knife in the corpse's mouth.
"Why so serious?"
=Somewhere=
Director Christopher Nolan woke up in a cold sweat. His wife, Emma, woke up next to him and groggily asked. "What's wrong, Chris."
Still shaken by the sudden vision, he took a few breaths before replying.
"I need to make a movie." He mumbled.
=Back to the scene=
Jeff and Toby stood back, admiring their work.
Jeff was the first to speak. "It's a profound statement of the… fruitlessness of society and how everything and everyone is all going to their inevitable destruction. As you can see, it's represented in the grinning man smiling falsely even though his body is in agony."
Toby nodded thoughtfully before putting in his sophisticated two cents. "I think it reminds me of Hoodie's lasagna."
Jeff snickered, "Yeah, I can see that". He wiped the knife blade on the couch as Toby pulled one of his axes out of the adult's cranium and examined it for chips or wear.
*bzzt*
Jeff pulled his phone out of his pocket and saw the glowing message from Slendy. If possible, his shriveled eyes widened and his grin frowned.
"Well, shit."
Harry Potter sat huddled in an armchair in the living room of the mansion. He couldn't bring himself to look at Slendy standing just to his left and he could still smell the metallic tinge clinging to his clothes even though none of it landed on him.
The red filled his eyes. The red rug, the red embers in the fireplace, the red rose of Offenderman's portrait, the red of the fabric on a couch. Everything red caught his attention.
Everything around him suddenly felt rotten and sour. The memory of arriving here. Trusting Slenderman. The wonderful meal. E.J.'s kindness.
E.J.'s "snack".
He shuddered.
His stomach heaved at the memory of his first sweet. The red lollipop that E.J. had given him that he was so happy to enjoy earlier suddenly was soured as the red, cherry flavor turned as metallic and bitter as the red blood on Slenderman's suit.
He glanced again at his savior from the Dursley's and felt his heart tug the wrong way.
On one hand, the faceless man saved him from his torment and sadness and gave him a warm home, meals, a whole entire room, and as close to a family as he's ever felt he's had.
On the other hand, he just saw his hero eviscerate three people.
He looked away again and his eyes glazed over as he retreated back to his mind. Slenderman was suddenly aware of several occupants standing around, worried for their newest ward after receiving the text he had BEN send.
"I am going to go clean up and change out of this suit, please don't upset him." They nodded as Slenderman headed upstairs.
The unusual occupants stood around the shivering seven-year-old warily, unsure how to deal with the emotionally distraught child. They heard the shower go on and run before shutting off quickly. Jeff mentally snickered at Slendy's "power shower" policy that only the faceless entity actually followed, but was brought back to seriousness with the boy in the room.
The front door slammed shut and Sally finally arrived from wherever she had been and ran over to Harry. "Harry! Harry! I heard what happened; are you okay?"
BEN replied for the silent boy. "He's not taking seeing Slendy kill too well."
Sally tilted her head in confusion. "Why? Everyone here does it."
Everyone's eyes widened dramatically and made slashing motions to try to stop the inevitable continuation, but the damage was done. Harry's head snapped up in horror, though he still didn't meet anyone's gazes.
Sally continued. "I mean, I just got back from mine. See?"
L.J. facepalmed as she lifted the severed head of some random woman by her scraggly hair. She'd carried it in with her and no one noticed it nor the new bloodstains on her dress. Harry took one look at the bloody head and threw his own head over the side of the chair.
A *splatter* was heard as he finally lost his breakfast from earlier that day.
Jeff pulled Sally over to him and tossed the head behind the couch as inconspicuously as throwing a severed head across the room could be. Harry sat in his chair and shivered violently, a little bit of spittle and vomit clung to his chin which he ignored.
Slendy came down wearing a new, clean suit and his skin was once more blood-free. He "smelled" the vomit (don't ask how) and could see the new blood on Sally along with the trickle of red pooling underneath his couch. Putting 2 and 2 together, he counted down from 10 before he did something he'd regret later.
He didn't even get to 8 when Harry bolted right past him and up the stairs. He heard the footsteps and tracked them all the way to Harry's room before the door closed firmly. He turned to address everyone gathered around him.
"Really? I was gone for five minutes." He deadpanned.
"I'm sorry, Slendy." Sally whispered tearfully.
"It's not your fault, Sally… well, not entirely. We just need to help Harry cope right now. Harry was an innocent before this and watching death is difficult. Killing is even worse on the psyche-"
"Ain't that the truth." Jeff mumbled.
"-But nevertheless," Slendy continued "we must help him comprehend exactly what we do. It's not good for him to keep this bottled up. Especially with his… unique condition."
BEN interrupted. "Yeah, Slendy. You keep saying he's got potential to be one of us. What's the big deal with hi-i-i-i-i-i-i-i-aaaa-gieush—uud—wu-t—d-iwsitit-d-w—s-s-."
BEN's appearance was suddenly distorted. Patches of himself became colored blocks and he twitched spontaneously between poses like reality itself lagged around him. Several others rushed over to try to help him, but among them, Smile suddenly collapsed pawing at his ears like a dog blocking out a dog whistle. Several light bulbs flickered and the radio in the corner whirred with broken static.
"What's going on?" Jeff called out over the noise. Slendy was about to answer when it all stopped and BEN fell to his knees, panting as a virtual sheen of sweat coated his forehead.
"Oh, good. He calmed down." Slendy said aloud, mostly to himself.
"He calmed down?! Are you saying Harry did that?!" E.J. cried out incredulously.
"Yes. His… abilities are linked to emotions at this point in his life. Those outbursts tend to react mainly with electrical or electricity-based objects. So, BEN being a computer virus was affected the most because he is primarily electrical-and-code-based. Smile, while being internet-based was only partially affected because he has a more solidified form. The rest was just akin to electrical interference."
The group stared wide-eyed at the information and a few glanced upwards in the general direction of the room where Harry had locked himself in. Jeff looked up in a sudden idea. "Hey, Masky, you're good with chemistry. Why don't you make some "happy pills" or mood stabilizers for him. That'll help, won't it?"
Jeff's idea withered under Slenderman's eyeless glare. "Timothy's skillset is in radiation poisoning medication and a few antipsychotic medications. He knows how to make mood-altering chemicals to avoid… withdrawal symptoms for himself. He is not allowed to create them for the rest of you and, even if he were, WE ARE NOT DRUGGING A SEVEN YEAR OLD BOY!"
Jeff held up his hands in surrender and backed away from the irate Slenderman. The entity smoothed his suit and lapels before continuing. "Now, I will talk with him and try to help him understand why we do what we do. In the meantime… please just don't screw anything up too badly."
Slenderman left the tenants in the Living room to do whatever they did. Meanwhile, he began walking up stairs towards his newest ward's room.
On the way, he saw the sconce lights on the wall flickering and felt the presence of Harry's abilities beginning to lose control. Thankfully, it seemed to be localized around him, so BEN and Smile were probably alright downstairs.
The portraits decorating the wall were rattling against their nail and a few doors were creaking on their hinges as they opened and closed on their own.
He sighed as he approached Harry's door and saw the handle jiggling on its own. Behind the door, he heard harry crying softly, muffled by what was probably a pillow or comforter.
He grasped the handle, working against its constant movement and forced the door open. True to his guess, Harry was on his bed, with his face buried in his pillow. Slenderman saw his shoulders shake with the muffled sobs.
"Harry?"
The boy's head shot up, wide bloodshot eyes took in the tall figure in his doorframe. Slenderman was disturbed to see the fear in Harry's eyes, but decided on a different method to approach him.
His form wavered and the white-haired, six-foot human glamour took his place. Harry's eyes were still as wide as dinner plates, but Slendy was happy to see some amount of amazement instead of fear.
"H-how-"
"It's called a 'glamour', Harry. It's a sort of disguise. Almost all of us have one, or at least a physical costume or covering, like the Rake's. I thought it might help with talking to you." The entity's glamour allowed his voice to emanate from his mouth. While still conceptually mental and telepathic, it was definitely more human-sounding than before.
"I- I'm not sure I want to talk." Harry admitted.
Slenderman sighed (and it actually sounded like it had breath behind it, too) "You shouldn't keep this bottled up, Harry. It's not good for your mental health."
Harry averted his eyes, but didn't object when the glamoured being sat down next to him on the edge of the bed. "C-Can I ask something else?"
"Of course, Harry."
"Are the glamorous things how you order pizza?" He asked quietly.
Slendy chuckled. "Glamours, Harry, not glamorous. And yes, if you hadn't offered to pick up the pizza, then Jeff or BEN or myself would've gone in our glamoured forms to avoid suspicion."
Harry nodded. Slendy waited as Harry slowly opened into the conversation. "So, everyone has a glamour?"
"Well, not everyone. Bigfoot for example just hulks around the redwoods, hairy as always." He was glad to see Harry's eyes widen with amazement at the mention of the cryptid (or Steven as he preferred). "It takes a certain degree of humanity or human-esque appearance and power to pull off a successful glamour. For example, The Rake is too inhuman for a glamour. He uses a fedora and trench coat instead whenever he's out in public. However, both of the Jacks and myself, while not being entirely human, appear human enough that we are able to produce one."
Harry's tension started ebbing away as the conversation continued. Slendy knew it was a risk, but he began the topic. "Are you sure you don't want to talk about it, Harry?"
Harry's shoulders tensed, but he didn't shy away as much anymore. He turned to the entity and whispered. "…why?..."
Slenderman expected it, but it didn't get any easier than his first impression. So, he began with the beginning. Always a good place to start. (AN: Brace yourself; headcanon time.)
"The world is a chaotic place, Harry. People prefer to believe there are only two sides; black or white, yin or yang, good or evil. However, they are both equally unstable. An old Cherokee story talks about inner struggle by comparing it to a fight between two wolves which represent good and evil. That is an apt analogy for both. Both are wolves, sly and cunning, and both are capable of horrific destruction caused in either of their names.
"The white wolf is perpetually fighting the black wolf and in the process causes damage to themselves and the world around them. Cities are ripped apart in their wake, men are driven mad by their struggle, and both are corrupt to some level and will do whatever it takes so they can see their end through.
"However, there is a third option. The Gray." Slenderman took out a small notepad with a design on it showing a black band fading into a white band. He pointed to the broad gray area between.
"The Gray is neither good nor evil; black nor white, it is the balance between. It's the "gray area" of things both literally and figuratively. Gray comes in many shades, but the closest to pure gray is the furthest from pure white and pure black; the unstable extremes.
"The Gray wolf is a perfect combination of the two wolves struggling. It is neither destructive nor dangerous. It is at peace with itself and the world around it."
Slender saw Harry soaking this all in and opened his notepad before drawing a quick sketch of a clock with a pendulum.
"Society is very fragile, Harry. It needs good, light, and morals to function or else it falls to complete chaos, but the universe favors chaos. A building will crumble if energy is not put into it to ensure its continued existence. Iron will rust to powder if left to the elements… A room will get dirty unless a parent scolds the child to clean it. The Creator knows Jeff's room is a perfect example."
Slenderman was relieved that the light joke got a small smile from the boy, and continued.
"However, utopia is far away at the moment. Humanity is just not ready to accept such a responsibility or such a concept. We know, we've tried.
"Early on in humanity's history, we worked together to eradicate evil, corruption, and misery. To create a "utopia" for all of mankind to flourish in. But it didn't go to plan.
"When the utopia was raised, it was sustained for a time, but corruption seeped in. Greed overtook hearts and the lusts of power drove the mortal inhabitants mad. Within hours of the first notion of corruption, the entire society fractured and collapsed.
"We decided, then, that humanity was not ready for such an endeavor. They needed to develop themselves mentally, spiritually, and emotionally if they had any hope of conquering the corruption and sin in their hearts."
He returned to his pendulum clock drawing, which Harry looked at.
"The society you live in works much like a clock's pendulum when not in conflict. When the world becomes too dark, someone will stand up and lead the light."
"Like the knights in those stories?" Harry asked quietly. Slenderman smiled as he showed willingness to talk.
"Yes, Harry, much like the young Champion leading the resistance against tyranny. However, the opposite is also very true. If society is too light, then they become overconfident, lazy, and weak from prosperity and a corrupt soul sees its flaws and tries to bring it all under his own command. Whether he knows it or not, he brings it under the black banner of selfishness and power. Both are agents of chaos.
"Back in the Medieval era, this pendulum shifted frequently. One king's reign would be of peace and prosperity before an individual usurped the throne and took it for himself. Then, after a few generations of toil and tyranny, the "chosen one of light" would rear up and fight the darkness. Thereby causing the entire process to oscillate back and forth, adding to history books, but the humans never learned and it was inevitably a repeated pattern of the same, exact thing.
"We decided that the world could not continue this way and that balance was needed. We sense the pendulum's swing and do what we must to drive it to the Gray until the time when humanity is ready to create a better society. Until then, they must learn and grow under the Gray.
"For the past few millennia, the pendulum has been forcing itself against the boundaries of chaos. We discovered that the only way to retain the semblance of balance was to remove those who assisted the decline.
"We kill for the Balance, Harry. The world would fall to primordial chaos if we did not."
Harry was silent as he processed this. Slenderman added on.
"We also kill because the humans trespass where they shouldn't be. For instance, my forest or BEN's websites. The humans go there of their own volition and it's within our rights to kill them in those instances."
Harry nodded, it made sense, though he still had questions. "Why did you take me away?"
"Ah, yes. Throughout my existence I have loathed those who take their blackened hearts out on the innocence of children. Children deserve choice and a 'clean slate' for life. Abuse and hurt usually causes their hearts to have a tendency to sway towards the darkness throughout their lives. I have taken it upon myself to seek out as many of those individuals and, if possible, remove them from their environment to a new home.
"I gained quite the reputation in Germany back in the day. I was a 'child snatcher' and 'evil demon' for relocating a few neglected or abused children to new homes or murdering the occasional child molesting traveler. I regret nothing as my methods were effective, though my reputation was not improved."
The young boy tilted his head. "What's 'child molesting'?"
"Ah, er- um…" The entity swore in his head. He did not want to explain this concept this early. "It's a… a very bad thing that hurts children."
"Oh. Okay."
Slenderman's shoulders dropped in relief. He figured he'd be safe for another six or seven years before The Talk would have to surface for the only aging, prepubescent male in the mansion. Pushing that to the side, he continued. "I saw you and I knew you were being horribly hurt by your family. I could sense great power and potential in you which would attract those who would zealously use you to force society into the chaos of the Extremes; Light or Dark. That's why I observed you for almost two months before I took you away-"
"Two months!" Harry exclaimed. His thoughtful expression gave way to anger. "You just watched me being tossed around and beaten by the Dursleys and you never did anything!"
Slendy felt another pulse of energy from Harry and heard a lightbulb from a lamp in the hallway burst. He put a hand comfortingly on Harry's shoulder. "Yes, Harry. Yes, I did. I'm sorry I did not help you. I truly am, but we have a Code to abide by."
Harry's face showed Slender that he did not comprehend entirely, so he elaborated on the important bits of the Code. "There must be a just cause for removal of the human child. There must be an observation period of no less than three months during which time, evidence is gathered to cement the justified removal. There must be no direct interaction with the child prior to or during the three month observation period; sightings are allowed, but discouraged for anyone other than the child.
"In the event that the health, safety, or life of the child is in danger, this waiting period may be reduced and instant removal may be authorized on the grounds that the danger they were in is satisfactory material for removal in the first place.
"Finally, the victim must leave of his/her own volition. The victim cannot be forceably removed from their location. The victim cannot be interacted with in a way that would force their removal, such as dragging them away or burning the house behind them. Finally, indirect aid is acceptable if it removes obstacles affecting the victim's choice. In this case, it was the lock on your cupboard."
Harry frowned. "But why couldn't you take me earlier?"
Slenderman sighed. "I would have if I could, but not even I am above the laws of The Council."
Harry nodded in grudging acceptance. Slenderman expected some degree of reluctance and decided to continue. "Another part of the code revolves around our secrecy. We prefer to be impartial and under-the-radar of human society.
"That is partly my job. These days with everyone having those… "camera-phones" and what-not, they can find more evidence of our existence and before we even realize it, there are already YouTube videos and Reddit pictures of us plastered all across the Internet, though thankfully few, far-between, and mostly kept in the obscure parts of the web. Before, it was just journal entries and paintings which were not reliable evidence for society to search for us or know about us. That's why I've been a bit more active these days.
"I try to find these filmmakers and intruders and use a certain… 'aura' or sorts that I have. Scientifically, we call it sigma radiation. It's very helpful in ruining magnetic tapes and digital recordings, but it can also cause… mental complications to exposure. Sometimes I use it to my advantage to reduce the credibility of the viewer… to be quite frank, the word of a madman is not as reliable."
Harry nodded sadly. "I guess. What do you do to make them crazy?"
The glamoured entity shrugged. "I don't really do anything. I just stand there, emitting the radiation. Masky tells me that it causes blood hemorrhaging, paranoia, nervousness, frustration, and ear-ringing after some time. Then, they eventually just… fall apart."
Harry looked panicked. "Ear ringing? But when you were at Privet Drive, I heard a lot of ear ringing when you were around! Am I going to go crazy too?!"
"Easy, easy, Harry." Slenderman calmed him down. "No, you will not go crazy. People are just affected after long exposure and you were nowhere near a dangerous dosage. That night, I was just so angry with the Dursleys that I accidentally emitted more radiation than usual. I'm sorry."
"'s okay." Harry mumbled. Relieved he wasn't going nuts, but still thinking about what Slenderman told him. "When you talked about 'human society' you included me sometimes, I think. Does that mean I'm not human?"
"No, Harry. You're as human as they come. Beings like Seed Eater, Laughing Jack, and myself are not actually human. However, you are similar to Toby, Jeff, or Sally in that you are human (or were human in Sally's case), but have something that sets you apart from the rest of society.
"That's why we take those like Jeff, Sally, and BEN in and bring them here. Their chaos is too unstable to be left to their own devices. They would eventually destroy the world if they killed everyone they encountered.
"They are cast away from society. They are beyond help. Beyond hope. Beyond Humanity. Therefore, we help them contain their chaos before it gets out of hand. Primarily, we use their violence and bloodlust and redirect it as an outlet to maintain the Gray." Slenderman glanced at his youngest ward and saw he understood, so he continued.
"Though sometimes our interference has some… unusual effects. For instance, Toby, Jeff, Timothy, and Brian are technically what I call a 'Proxy' and a side effect they picked up is slowed aging. So, it's likely that they'll still look to be in their young teens when you, yourself, are that age."
"They don't grow up?" Harry asked, curious.
Slender chuckled. "In more ways than one, with Tobias's childishness." He was relieved to hear Harry give a small chuckle. "Now, are you feeling better? I'm not saying you have to enjoy killing. I just want you to understand why we do it."
Harry gave a small nod. Slenderman added on. "I'll talk with Doctor Halloway to let her know."
"The bird lady who smells like flowers?" Harry asked.
Slenderman remembered Jeanette's appearance. She preferred wearing a black, wide-brim hat with black gloves, a black dress, and a tan plague doctor's mask. He remembered that plague doctors stuffed herbs in their masks traditionally in the belief that it would ward away "bad air" that caused disease.
So, she did resemble a bird and it was logical she would smell very strongly of the herbs she put in her mask. "Yes, Harry, though I hope you do not call her that."
"I don't."
Slenderman nodded and sat up from the bedside. Harry stopped shivering and looked much less distraught. He started walking out the door when he heard Harry call out.
"Slendy? Earlier, you said that a lot of people around here aren't human or were human. Am I still human. Even after the… freaky thing." He whispered the last bit fearfully.
The glamoured entity turned back to look at the boy. "Yes, Harry. You're as human as they come. Just with a few extra gifts."
"Gifts?"
"Yes, something that is entirely your own or that fate has given you. It's perfectly normal here."
"Not freaky?" Harry asked timidly, the Dursleys' words were still stained in his mind.
"No, unique."
Harry nodded. "Unique." He liked the sound of it.
Slenderman was glad when the child smiled truly for the first time. He shut the door behind him and removed the glamour before heading away from the room towards the attic steps.
He opened the door which revealed a rickety, wooden stairwell to the dusty attic space. Some occupants used the space if they preferred the dust and isolation, but at the moment they were either elsewhere or out.
He went to the back of the room and pulled out a heavy steam-train trunk in the back area. He opened it and pulled out his old, yellowed journals from his time in Europe.
He leafed through the entries until he found one he took while still in Germany almost a century ago. In it, he met a traveler who performed unusual feats and he managed to overhear a location in England called "Diagon Alley" and learned of similar places all across the world.
He had visited the "Alley" once he tracked someone down to the location. From there, he had managed to… "borrow" some books from a bookstore or an odd person and had long forgotten about their contents until now.
He took the books under his arm and walked downstairs to the library. He picked up the first one on the stack, "The Realm of Magick Moste Powerful", opened it, and began to read about the magical world of Harry Potter.
The American Department of Magical Affairs (ADMA) was frantically trying to track the mystery child who had a level 7 magical outburst in a park in California. Everyone who arrived at the scene found no one there and the police were already closing in because some kids talked about an abduction.
None of the children registered as magical, using a discrete wand-scan, so they assumed that the abducted child was the magical one.
This caused floo calls as far as New York and Florida to try to contain this. An abduction was enough for a wide-spread search, but an abduction of a level 7 magical child was something far more serious. It could potentially be the equivalent of obtaining and training a nuke with the ability to inconspicuously move in the target area, detonate without the need for remote contact, survive the blast, and be ready in a few days to do it again all without linking it to any one country or organization.
An international threat.
Naturally, they informed the President about it and he began organizing and deploying anyone he could to deal with the potential threat.
From the children in the area, they managed to draw together a picture of a seven year old with green eyes, black hair, and an odd scar on his forehead that none of the kids could remember the exact shape of clearly.
The evening of the abduction, police reports revealed a crime ring being destroyed in an unusual manner. Naturally, anything unusual got the attention of the X-files, the CIA, and the ADMA.
ADMA managed to translate the Spanish kids held in the cages at the time of the incident and they all confirmed that there was a child who matched the description who was in the warehouse during the incident. However, it was what followed after that wasn't officially on the record released to the public.
The children kept referencing Death (as a person or figure) and how it killed the others, but took the mystery child. When pressed, all they said about him was "El Muerte es un hombre esbelto quien es muy alto, pero sin una cara."
Death is a slender man who is very tall, but without a face.
The police force and ADMA were confused by it, but the kidnapped witnesses all said the same things. De La Muerte said something similar in his ramblings during his incarceration, but he wasn't able to elaborate.
What's more, the official police report said that the dogs did a perimeter check and could not pick up anything in a five mile radius, leaving them clueless and stumped. Eventually, the aurors of ADMA returned to the main building and monitored any more activity bursts to try to track down the missing Level 7.
An investigation team focused on the description of the mysterious "man with no face", but no leads brought any real person on file or suspected. One had an idea to take it literally. Through a few internet searches and obscure leads, he discovered the local folklore of a small city in rural New York State. From his research, the "Slenderman" mythos fit the description.
They decided to investigate the area with a few interns to see if they could find anything out about the place and, maybe, find out if it's a copycat human using the mythos for some odd reason or another that may help in tracking him down.
A few plane tickets later and two investigators and four interns were on their way to the New York countryside.
The intern breathed heavily as he sprinted through the dense forest.
The moonlight didn't provide much light, but it was enough to see and avoid a few roots trying to trip him up.
The others didn't make it. They were taken.
Taken by him.
He warned them that the "No Trespassers: Private Property" fence wasn't just a ploy and they should've left it alone.
Either way, now it was too late.
For all of them.
His hand tightened and the seven papers in his hand crinkled noisily in the silent forest.
Well, essentially silent. Shortly after they picked up the first page, all forest life stopped. The wildlife was silenced, the birds stopped crying out, squirrels scrambled into tree branches, and every cricket stopped chirping. Then, a loud banging sound was heard echoing through the forest with a deep groaning.
They continued wandering through the forest until their first intern was taken. That was the first time they saw… It.
They bolted after that. He was the only one who kept taking the pages as he saw them, but the others slowly went mad around him.
One of his fellow interns, one he had a crush on in the office, was acting out of it for hours until she walked willingly to the thing and vanished. He kept running.
His nose started bleeding and he distinctly heard the ringing in his ears getting louder with each passing second.
He needed it!
He had to escape!
It was the only wa-
THERE!
On the trunk of a tree was another page! A sweet, glorious page fluttering on a nail like a beautiful butterfly! It had the freaky design on it, but what the Hell, it was his salvation!
He sprinted towards it and ripped it off the nail, grinning.
Then, he felt it behind him. He turned around to see the thing standing there, looking at him. He couldn't help himself and he chuckled. "What now, freak?! Ha! I got all 8 pages, you bastard! You can't touch me! I'm INVINCIBLE! HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!"
The figure regarded him and tilted its faceless, blank head.
"Haha… hahaha… ha…. Haaaa…. That's not how it works, is it?"
The Slenderman shook his head as black tendrils wriggled from his back.
Slenderman was in his casual work clothes… some torn and slightly scuffed suits that wouldn't clean out. So he used them for work. It didn't matter if they had any more holes in it.
He dealt with the trespassers last night and returned Sally's drawings, to the ghost girl's delight and relief.
He finished picking some of the late squash that survived October and dumped a bit more fertilizer against the roots of the blackberry bush. The bonemeal was working wonders for the herb garden as well and Eyeless Jack was more than grateful to add the herbs and spices to his recipes. He set aside some to apply next year.
Harry had calmed down enough to start talking to the other occupants and the faceless entity was glad he had adjusted better than he expected.
He reached back up in the tree branches and ripped off a bloody limb from the impaled body of one of the main investigators. He did a quick background check; they were a small, nobody freelance investigation organization. Probably hoping to find a big lead to rub in the others' faces.
He sensed their arrival from an alert ward on the outer perimeter of the forest and watched them trespass beyond the normal fence boundary. He continued to spy on them from afar, careful to not be observed, but the moment they stole Sally's drawings, he knew it would classify under "breaking, entering, and stealing".
So, as he informed Harry, it was within his rights by The Council to take action.
The six human intruders were now dangling from the trees, a sharpened branch impaling them through the chest. He kept the macabre "orchard" and his personal garden away from Harry and Sally's play areas and well away from the mansion. He was certain Toby would set it on fire by mistake. And he'd be damned before any of his wards burned his Elderberry bushes.
The entity tossed the dripping hunk of flesh in a basket at his side. He'd already put in the fragile eyeball tissues in a mini-cooler for Jack, a couple hearts and kidneys for the Meat Fridge along with several fillets of various cuts. Finally, a nice, meaty femur bone was wrapped in some cloth for Smile to chew on.
As he wandered through the forest, he chuckled darkly at the memory of the last kill. That pesky intern was very adept at running and hiding. It was rather amusing, in retrospect.
But still, he must have cracked under the pressure.
After all, how did that young man get it in his head that 8 pieces of paper could stop a monster?
Nymphadora "Don't-call-me-Nymphadora" Tonks sat in a muggle café with Kingsley Shacklebolt while holding her latte in her hand on her first interning year on the Auror Force. Her muggleborn father got her hooked on the drink one summer when she was 15. Kingsley was curious about the muggle confection as most normal wizards just took tea or coffee with standard additions like milk or sugar. Then again, most wizards didn't have the creativity to mix coffee with toffee, caramel, whipped cream, or chocolate.
They sipped their drinks, savoring the flavor while thinking back on their current case.
The disappearance of Harry Potter.
Dumbledore was furious these days. All of his systems stopped working. Every single tracking mechanism he had was useless. The only thing they knew was that Harry had somehow escaped from his relatives house and Dumbledore was adamant that he return there as soon as possible.
They didn't question why because… well, he's Dumbledore.
Tonks glanced up at the TV and watched the news reporter give the latest on the capture and trials of the drug lord Gomez de la Muerte. "Hey, Kingsley, did you hear about that case from the DMLE?" She gestured to the device.
Kingsley was well up-to-date on muggle technology for a pureblood wizard. A little more-so than Arthur Weasley, as he understood most of the proper names for the devices and the basics of operating them. He turned around and glanced at the TV for a few seconds before nodding.
"Yes, apparently that muggle was smuggling wizarding contraband around Europe. Smart tactic, too. Most aurors wouldn't think to check muggle ships and airplanes for such items. The obliviation squad is ready if anyone looks too closely at the exact nature of the contraband." He sipped his coffee.
Tonks glanced up hopefully. "Hey, maybe the muggles have some kind of tracking device to help us locate Harry. I mean, Dumbledore assured us he was still alive so maybe-"
"No, Tonks." Kingsley replied in his deep voice. "I've already looked into all forms of tracking they have. The best they can do is implant something called a "tracking chip" and that's only if you have the person with you."
He shook his head and took another sip of his beverage. "No, the best we can do is to keep searching and hope we find him. Even then, I'm not sure what Dumbledore intends to do with Harry Potter. I heard his relatives' house burnt down and they were… incapable of caring for Harry."
"Incapable?" Tonks raised an eyebrow.
"I'm not sure myself. That was what Dumbledore told me. He also informed me that he would be taking measures to ensure the house is rebuilt exactly as before. Dumbledore's a brilliant wizard, though, so I wouldn't put it past him to discover some reparo spell that works on ashes."
"Of course! He's Dumbledore." Tonks agreed, it was simple as that.
They paid for their drinks and threw away the cups afterwards. They still had yet to search some of the parks in Surrey, so that was the next step. After that, they were going to look into Diagon Alley, Gringotts, and even Knocturne Alley.
Just as they walked away from the café window, the TV broadcast showed an image of the Mystery Boy of the de la Muerte case. An accurate drawing of a skinny, black-haired, green-eyed child with round spectacles and a British accent who went by the name "Harry" was plastered up for everyone to see (save anyone remotely associated with the wizarding world).
What Tonks and Kingsley neglected was a silencing ward. The café was nearly empty and everyone was wrapped in their own conversations. Even then, they spoke low enough that no one would hear given how far they were from everyone else.
However, they didn't take into account that a certain occupant had rather… unnatural hearing.
A "man" in a fedora and trench coat got up from his booth and left some money and a tip on the table before departing. As he passed by a rather attractive waitress who eyed him suspiciously, he grinned and allowed his teeth to glint in the fluorescent light. The sight of her paling face was enough to know it worked.
He walked away from the café and found a broken-down telephone stuck on a wall. It was an old-fashioned payphone that was not enclosed in a box, but left out to collect dirt and grime.
He picked up the phone and heard nothing but silence on the other end. Then, the silence was broken by a haunting voice saying "Hello? Hello? Hello?" over and over.
The "man" rapped on the receiver in quick code and the voice stopped its usual scare tactic before it said. "How may I help you today?"
The "man" growled into the receiver. "I'd like an international message to the Head Guy in New York. You know the one. When you get him, tell him I've got news about Harry Potter."
AN: The line towards the top marked with an * was a quote from the original Ticci Toby story by Kastoway on deviantart.
The headcannon for Slenderman's reasons was specifically inspired by EverymanHybrid "Episode #5" where just before the lights blew out, Slendy walked by the camera and almost seemed to do a double-take after he "sensed" a camera that caught him walking.
Jeanette Halloway was inspired strongly by a drawing titled "Black Death" by Deviantart username Lithium-Tears. It's a really amazing work and I recommend looking it up really quick on Google.
So, yeah, this is the headcannon of the Pasta Universe. It justifies the killing, allows them to be psychopathic murderers if need be or sociable teenagers/adults, and it helps with the theme.
Yep, that's right! This is 100% a Manipulative Dumbledore fic! I stumbled across my first one months ago. It was an FMA/Harry Potter x-over and I really got hooked on the character design for Dumbles. Ever since, I just couldn't stop looking back at the books and seeing how much sense those fics made and how much Dumbledore was interfering with things.
This allows me to villainize both the extreme Dark side (aka Voldie) and the extreme Light side (aka Dumbledore). We'll see how it works out, but I'm looking forward to it!
Disclaimers: I don't own a single Pasta creature. The psychologist was essentially the character developed by Lithium-Tears (really cool work, by the way). I definitely don't own The Dark Knight, though it was amazing! And finally, I (like everyone else on this site) don't own Harry Potter…
Oh, and I realized that the inspiration for the glamours came almost directly from the famous Creepypasta deviantart user, ComicKit. While Slenderman's glamour may not be as epic as a toaster with the Zelda treasure chest theme (see the Pasta Monsters youtube videos), it still came out alright.
Anyway, I hope you enjoyed the installment and I hope to update soon.
Sincerely,
The Smiling Crow