Annabeth stepped back nervously. Even her, who was a human, or a mere mortal, as the Creepypastas liked to put it, could feel the aura on the other side of the plain, moldy door that they stood in front of. It felt...stern, for one thing, but also commanding, terrifying, and not at all human.

"Is that...on the other side...is that Slenderman?" she whispered.

Masky looked at her sharply. "Don't refer to the master by his name." he ordered. "We simply call him 'Master' in his presence. But you're correct."

Something about his tone warned Annabeth to listen to him. She was reckless, fiery, and not easy to control but she also wasn't stupid. She could tell that whatever this Slenderman was like, he didn't play games.

"What is he?" she asked, valiantly trying to keep her voice from efforts were successful - at least, for now.

Annabeth doubted it would stay that way.

"He is..." Masky hesitated. "It's difficult to explain, little girl. He's not human."

"No shit."

The proxy turned so suddenly and quickly that Annabeth would have barely had time to blink, but Jeff was in front of her in a split second, blocking the pissed-off looking Masky with his own body.

"What's this, Jeff?" Masky hissed, his voice terrifyingly soft. "Growing soft for your little bitch, aren't you?"

"Don't be ridiculous." Jeff retorted, his tone just as low and deadly. "I'm just..." he chuckled, running his tongue over his lips shamelessly. "...raising the lamb for the slaughter."

With a sneer, Masky turned back around and spoke up, his words directed at Annabeth, calm again. "In any case, watch your mouth with the Master. We might be a little indulgent of your childishness thanks to Romeo over here, but the Master answers to no one. He won't hesitate to kill you, in the most painful way imaginable, if you don't control yourself."

Annabeth didn't respond. She was too busy trying to swallow the lump of emotions in her throat. To be taken from your family and friends was bad enough, but to be taken by these insane, unbalanced killers who tortured and slaughtered and maybe even raped without shame or guilt? Why did it have to be her in this mess? Why?

Calm down, Annabeth. she told herself firmly. You don't have time to wallow in self-pity. You can make it - don't forget that these guys are just pathetic little sacks of shit who can't resist their own bloodlust. You're stronger than them. You're better than them.

She took a deep breath as Masky put his hand on the knob and turned.

The door squeaked on its ancient, rusty hinges as the man pushed it open and stepped into the darkness inside. Jeff followed without hesitation, only stopping to shoot a glance at Annabeth that she couldn't quite read. A warning, she was sure of it, but something about it just seemed...off.

Shoving the thought to the back of her mind, Annabeth focused on placing one foot in front of the other, fighting to keep herself from screaming in fear and running of. The aura was increasing in magnitude and strength. She felt cowed. Like prey.

And yet, something was inside of her, something that seemed to rise up to challenge the immense energy radiating from the dark room. Something that seemed to be demanding release, demanding freedom.

Okay, she was officially going crazy.

With a sigh of irritation directed at herself, the girl stepped fully into the inky blackness, jumping as the door shut behind her. She wanted to check if it was locked, but common sense told her to keep following Masky and Jeff or she'd get lost in the pitch-dark hellhole. And that was the last thing she needed.

"Doll." Jeff's voice startled Annabeth as he reached out and grabbed her arm roughly. "Don't leave my side, do you fucking hear me? And don't touch any of fuckface's shit, either."

Fuckface?

Masky glared over his shoulder. "You'll address the Master by his proper title, Jeff."

"To hell with that." the smiley killer sneered. "I'm not one of his puppets like you, Masky. I can do whatever I want."

"Oh?" Masky's response was amused. "With the knowledge that he could kill you in a second? That you're nothing without him? That you're nothing compared to him?"

"Shut up." there was a dangerous edge to Jeff's voice that made Annabeth's hackles stand on end. However, the unperturbed Masky simply smirked and continued his taunting.

"If the Master hadn't taken you in when you were at your lowest, just think of what pathetic state you'd be in right now, Jeff."

No response. Somehow, the lack of it unnerved Annabeth more.

"You'd probably be running around like one of those mortal criminals, unaware of how to do shit properly. Hell, you might even be rotting in a mental asylum where you belong, wallowing in self-pity."

"Shut. Up."

"Oh yeah, I forgot, Jeffrey." Masky spat, his tone filled with venom and scorn. "You'd probably also be haunted by your brother...was his name...Liu?"

The breath caught in Annabeth's throat as Jeff, in half a second, sprang into action, his knife glinting in the dark, its blade headed straight for Masky's torso. The masked man was already prepared, his muscles poised to flawlessly dodge the strike, when -

Freeze.

Both killers froze.

Annabeth's eyes widened as her brain seemed to lose control of her body, stiffening like a corpse.

The voice just heard did not sound angry, or emotional, of even human. There was no feeling in it - it was merely a command that a king gave to his slaves. To his pawns.

But that wasn't what unsettled Annabeth.

What petrified her was that the voice was not physical, not corporeal, not on a logical level. It was in her mind. A different voice, in her fucking mind. Was she becoming schizophrenic? Was the mere week she'd spent in this place enough to start breaking her mind? Would she become a murder like the ones surrounding her?

Calm yourself, child. You shall not go insane - not yet.

Annabeth's eyes widened frantically. If the voice had just told her that to reassure her, it was having the opposite of the intended effect. Panic began to seize her body. Now something in her head was telling her to calm down?

There was a flourish of movement next to Annabeth. She glanced over, startled, to find that Masky had sunken to one knee in a position of submission. Shock froze her. The arrogant Masky kneeling to someone? It could only be...

From the darkness, something emerged.

As her brain comprehended what that something was, Annabeth fought back a scream.

It was a tall, skinny man with gray skin and a black suit.

And he was faceless.

Slenderman turned to face her, and though he had no eyes, Annabeth had never felt more vulnerable in her entire life. It didn't seem like he was just seeing her - it felt like he was reading her. Her life, her character, what she loved, what she hated, what was important to her, what she cared nothing for...everything. There were no secrets.

How are you, child?

That voice.

That voice in her head. It had been Slenderman all along.

Correct. It was me.

Annabeth froze. How had he known her thoughts? Could he...could he read minds?

Indeed I can.

So he could.

Scowling at the sheer unfairness of the situation (Annabeth vs. psycho killers was bad enough, but Annabeth vs. psycho killers + not-human, supernatural powered, mind-reading, ridiculously tall creepy guy = Annabeth's some major shit), Annabeth looked away from Slenderman and clenched her already aching fists.

Slenderman tilted his head at her, looking almost curious. You are new. Most mortals scream and beg for their lives when in my presence. You merely frown and look away.

"Yeah, well..." Annabeth muttered, "when you're life is anything like mine, most mortals isn't a category you fall under."

You believe your life is unfair?

The teen laughed. "You're supposedly the eons-old Slenderman. I would've thought you'd know - no one's life is really fair."

"You little - " Masky hissed with rage and began to surge to his feet, making Jeff tense up. It seemed as though another fight was going to erupt between the two killers, when -

Silence.

Masky and Jeff both stopped dead.

The child will think you are spoiled. Control yourselves.

Muttering an apology, Masky sunk back down to his knees. Jeff simply growled in defiance, but there was visible fear in his eyes - and it terrified Annabeth. This Slenderman had such power over psychopaths like them. It was clear that he commanded absolute obedience. Was he truly that powerful?

Swallowing down her nerves, Annabeth drew herself up to face Slenderman. "May I ask why you want me?"

The entity turned back to her. Certainly. I apologize for the inconvenience - my servants can be rather troublesome. You must know that Jeffrey was no the first to have an interest in you - I was. You see, child, there is something about you that rings as not human.

"Yeah, thanks. I've been told that by your lackey here." she jabbed a finger at Jeff.

Yes, true. No doubt he is quite surprised by your spirit. Slenderman replied, ignoring Jeff's pissed snarl. However, that is not what I am speaking of. I believe you have magical potential.

What?

"M...Magical potential?"

Yes.

"But magic doesn't exist."

Slenderman laughed (or mentally laughed, or whatever). My existence, as well as the existence of these children, are partially due to magic, child. After all, they are not alive, but they are not dead either. Creepypastas are somewhere in-between. They are fueled by dark desires - hate, rage, pain - that was bestowed upon them when they were human. Magic is what keeps their bodies functioning.

"And me...are you saying I'm a Creepypasta?" Annabeth choked. The idea was horrifying.

No, not quite. You are not a Creepypasta, but you are not exactly human, either. I cannot put my finger on the cause of your power, but you have great potential. There has never been a human in this world with as much raw energy as you.

"Don't tell me to 'be grateful' and we'll get along fine."

Indeed. I do not believe this is something you should be glad to possess, child. It is, after all, the reason for my interest in you, and therefore, the reason you are here.

The girl frowned. "I thought...I thought that asshole," she pointed at Jeff rudely, not that she cared, "brought me here."

The entity nodded. Indeed, he did. However, his obsession with you is only part of the reason.

"I guess the other part is my...magical potential?"

Yes. I observed you about two months ago, sensing the stored magic inside of you. After about three weeks of learning of your existence, I informed the children of it. Jeffrey was initially uninterested, but once he laid eyes on you, things changed.

Annabeth snorted bitterly. "Sounds like a fairy tale."

Behind her, Jeff let out a rasping chuckle. "Doll, this is no fairy tale. I'm not Prince Charming who's going to whisk you off your feet and into a whirlwind romance. I intend to break you and make you my personal plaything. That's all."

With a smirk, Annabeth faced him. "I know it's not a fairy tale. Even if you were Prince Charming, I'm not Cinderella, or Snow White, or Rapunzel. I don't need anyone to 'whisk me off my feet'. I'd rather slay my own dragons, you know? I'd rather just rescue myself."

Now now, children.

Breaking off their banter at Slenderman's condescending tone, Annabeth spun away, the ends of her messy golden hair slapping Jeff in the face. She drew a little satisfaction from the annoyed grunt that he gave.

"So I have potential. Big deal. I'm guessing the famous Slenderman," Annabeth narrowed her gray eyes. "Hasn't summoned me here just to sit around and look pretty. You want me to do something for you, don't you?"

Behind Slenderman, a deep voice drawled, "She's smart."

"Don't b-be sarcas-s-tic." Another voice responded in a strange twitchy voice, followed by several gruesome popping sounds, as if bones were snapping and cracking. Jeff had mentioned a ticking motherfucker...

Annabeth sighed. Maybe she should've been scared, but Slenderman's presence had unnerved her so much that it simply wasn't in her brain capacity at the moment. Basically, her mind was saying, Sorry, officially out of fear fuel. "Who the hell is it?" she called out in a weary voice. Hearing the exasperation in her tone, Jeff snickered. "Are we tired, dollface?" he purred.

There was a chuckle, in yet another voice, this one sounding familiar. "She's got spunk."

Hoodie. Toby. LJ. Slenderman's tone (or mental tone) was annoyed. Now is not the time for foolishness. Our guest will think badly of us.

"Yes, Master. We apologize." came the deep voice again. There was a soft pattering of several footsteps before three men emerged from the blackness. One was tall, about Jeff's height, with a yellow hoodie with its hood pulled up and plain blue jeans (Seriously, what was the deal with yellow?). He might've passed off as an ordinary guy if not for the fact that instead of seeing a normal face in the hood, there was a vaguely face-shaped black blob and glowing red eyes. Completely red - no pupils, no irises, nothing. In place of a mouth, there was a red line, curved downwards. In other words, Annabeth thought, this guy was a hypocrite for wearing yellow while looking grumpy as all hell.

The second man was about Masky's height, with a brown shirt that had stripes on the sleeves. A blue hood was pulled over his head, but his tousled brown hair was still visible under it. Like the first man, he was wearing blue jeans. His skin seemed unnaturally pale, like Jeff's, but his features were less distinguishable considering the thick yellow goggles and the metal mouth guard. Strangest of all, he was shaking and twitching like his fingers were permanently stuck in on electric socket, a loud snapping sound accompanying each twitch. He was the Creepyasta with tourette's syndrome. She couldn't remember his name, but she did remember that he was one of the most unstable Creepypastas out there.

The third man was familiar to Annabeth - a monochromatic clown with shoulder-length, choppy black hair, a white-and black striped cone nose and sleeves. Like when she'd first encountered him, he had disturbingly long arms and was about 6'9. Laughing Jack.

How many fucking killers is that? Annabeth wondered. Let's see...Jeff the Asshole, Masky the Lapdog, Slenderman the Creepy, Hypocrite-With-Yellow-Hoodie, Twitchy the Weird, and Laughing Jack the Ridiculous. That's six psychopaths.

Great. I'm having so much fun.

Whew, this one was long! It took me so much time to write because I was at loss what to do. Keep in mind that the whole magic thing is just my idea for the story, and the Creepypastas' heights also seem to vary with each fanfic, so I just chose my own. In future chapters, probably soon, this magic thing will be explained.

Thanks for reading, and I'll see you guys soon!