I would like to note that most of these characters mentioned are not mine (i.e. Slenderman, Ticci Toby, and the likes), even though later on I may add a few of my own.

Uploads of the chapters will be sporadic due to my schedule.

The category isn't exactly right - I couldn't figure out what category to put it in.

Constructive criticism is welcome.

2 Slenderman

It appeared that the voices had triggered my defense mechanism – an odd reaction, this. Rarely did I instinctively teleport elsewhere, and it was even rarer that I was startled into issuing such an aggressive response.

The room I was in looked as if it had been abandoned for decades – which, of course, it had. Trash was shoved into one side of the room, and broken furniture was arranged in a half-hearted attempt to make the place more…"homey". There was further evidence of habitation, too. An old couch and a La-Z-Boy chair each had blankets piled upon them.

A sudden sound issued forth from the doorway, and I turned to face it, ready to strike at whatever danger happened to be there. Instead of an enemy, though, two teenaged boys stood, one masked, and one with a hood. My two proxies. I believe you know them as "Masky" and "Hoody". Their preferred names, though, were Impassive and Solitude. Do not ask me why they chose these names; even with my long presence among your kind, humans have always found ways to bemuse me. Perhaps they wished to live up to these words – I had never asked.

As always, Impassive showed no reaction, simply standing there with his mask. Solitude, though, was clearly surprised by my attitude. Quickly, I retracted my extra limbs and relaxed. There were only friends here.

"What's wrong?" asked Solitude. Of the two, he was the one who had stayed with me the longest, after I had made an error of judgment. That, however, is not important to you, reader.

"It is nothing to worry about," I hissed in response. Most human languages were difficult for me to speak, so instead I switched to my native tongue. With practice, both of my proxies had come to understand me fluently. "Have you done a patrol of the premises?"

Impassive nodded while Solitude filled me in. "Yeah, no one's tried to get in. 'Course, don't see why they would – this is just an empty building as far as the humans are concerned."

I nodded slowly, hissing my consent. "Good. I need to go hunting tonight, to restore my energy."

Solitude tilted his head but said nothing. I picked up on his confusion. "What is wrong?"

"Well, nothing, but… you just ate, Slender. Like, less than a week ago. Are you sure everything is fine?"

I stared down at him, deliberating. "No. I am not sure. But I still need to feast. What time is it now?"

He took out an old pocket watch he'd acquired some time ago. I never asked where he'd gotten it, and he never told me. "It's about 7:30 at night, boss. In another few minutes the sun will be setting."

I nodded. "Then I shall leave. My proxies, keep watch over the building until I have returned. I should not be long."

"That's what we always do," Impassive mumbled under his breath. I pretended not to hear him, choosing to focus on more important matters.

I brushed past them before teleporting outdoors. The sounds of the surroundings assaulted my hearing, but I quickly grew used to it. I flitted through the city scene, going from district to district. It was dark when I finally stopped in a subdivision. The houses were neat, orderly; the lawns were neatly organized, and the trees and bushes were trimmed. Nowhere was there a speck of unwanted filth. Which made this particular target all the more interesting, if not unsurprising.

As you may recall, dear reader, I do not eat the children themselves – rather, I eat their memories. When I was first exiled here, I did not discriminate amongst the humans; man, woman, adult, child, you were all the same to me. Eventually, though, I figured out that the memories of children were the best for me. You may be disgusted, reader, but think on this: the memories of the adults were full of hate, greed, anger, while the children were too young to know of such things. Would you rather I had stayed full of hate? Or allow the children's experiences soften my temperament?

I then narrowed my search down further, as the hate inside was tampered. Now, I only seek out those whose sorrow and fear I can sense.

Like the child inside this house.

Based on the type of fear, I guessed that this child suffered from physical abuse – beatings, mostly. I leaned forward slightly, watching the child and his parents through the window. The pure ignorance humans have about those of their own who are well-to-do is shameful. One would think they would be mindful of what their own offspring must endure at the hands of their parents, but I digress.

I waited in the shadows, waiting for the child's parents to leave. Once they did, I stepped out, and, in the darkness, I stretched out one tentacle to tap the window pane gently. Pausing, I cocked my head, listening for the telltale signs that the boy had heard me. When a few minutes had passed, I tapped his window again before retracting the appendage. This time, I got a response.

The moon came out from behind a cloud, and in the pale light I saw his face, looking for the cause of the noise. Shifting slightly, making myself a little bigger, I made it so that it was easy to see me. His eyes locked onto my face, and I tilted my head in a curious manner before beckoning in a way I hoped was friendly. The boy's curious nature had been piqued, and I waited patiently as he made his way outside. I moved to his front door as he opened it.

The boy had little fear; instead, his eyes were hollow with defeat. It was clear this child had been through a lot. I looked forward to this particular feast.

I stooped down and invitingly held out my hand for him to take. The boy stared at it for a moment before grasping it weakly. I could tell he still wasn't sure about following me, so in a soft voice I hissed in English, "Friend. Come."

The child hesitated, so I tried again. "Fun. Have fun. Come." This strategy worked better, and I felt the grip on my hand tighten. Grasping his other arm, I teleported us to an empty field. The fireflies danced in intricate movements, and the crickets chirped in peaceful harmony. I cocked my head again as the boy looked around in wonder. I could see his face light up as he soaked in the serenity, and I let him relax for a moment. But I did not let go.

Instead, I leaned in and tapped his mind. I felt his body grow rigid before slumping. My hunger growing, I shifted through his memories, only feeding on the bad ones.

I often transported my victims here, so that their last memory might be pleasant. I feasted on the fear and confusion the child had suffered, eventually going so far as to make him forget his family. He would not be returning to them, anyway.

My hunger slaked, I put the boy in a deep slumber before transporting him to the steps of a secluded house. The people here often received my prey, and no doubt would be unsurprised to see yet another child on their doorstep. An elderly couple, they were one of the few good humans I could trust to take care of their own kind. As a last touch, I eradicated any memory of me as well; it would be no good to have him remember me. Taking one last look at the latest victim, I teleported back to the building where my proxies awaited. The voices troubled me deeply, and I needed to make a visit to an acquaintance.