The following morning is like a haze. Students are still allowed to go to school in spite of the murders and the Slender Man sightings, but I can't remember a single thing the teachers say. Okay, I admit that's kinda normal for me. I've always had a bit of a problem paying attention in class. But I'm even more distracted today.
I'm pretty popular, so I have friends talking to me all day, especially during lunch, but I just see their lips moving without hearing a single word. All I can think about is Night Two.
From the very beginning, I knew it would take more than just one night to convince people that Slender Man or the Operator or whoever the hell he is doesn't exist. So it was always my intention to go back to the park for a second night to prove that it wasn't just a fluke.
But that's not the only reason anymore. For one thing, I wanna shut that dick keyboard warrior, Tim Wright, up. For another, I'm actually excited to go back to the park tonight. I dunno. It's like something there is calling me back.
O
My adrenaline is pumping. I can't wait to get started on my second vlog, so I leave home about a little over an hour earlier than yesterday while there's still a little light out and with my trusty phone ready.
However, when I pass by Mr. Townsend's place, I see my dad, a couple of his deputies, and some paramedics gathered in front of the house. Dad is standing with his hands on his hips and his head lowered, looking all gloomy.
I walk over and ask, "What's going on, Dad?"
If I startled him from his daydreaming, he doesn't show it. Dad's always been kinda, what's the word, stoic? He's a tall and wiry dude with deep lines on his face and short hair that has started to gray, making him look older than he actually is. I guess being sheriff is stressful.
"Son, you shouldn't be here. This is a crime scene," he tells me.
"A crime scene?! Why? What happened? Is Mr. Townsend okay?" I worriedly ask.
Dad sighs, shakes his head sadly, and answers, "He's gone, son. Killed the same way as those poor folks in the park."
"No way!" I almost shout.
He must have seen the shock on my face because he puts a hand on my shoulder and says, "I'm sorry. I know you were kinda close."
"I can't believe it. I just saw him last night."
Dad frowns and asks, "Last night? Did you notice if he was acting strange or anything?"
I think back to last night for a couple of seconds then answer, "No. We just said hi to each other like we always do."
He squints at me curiously and says, "What's with the phone? You shooting a video or something?"
"Huh? Oh, uhm, yeah. It's for my vlog."
"Thought you weren't into that kind o thing."
"I'm not. I'm just trying to prove a point, I guess."
"Well, don't point it here. This is a crime scene."
"Oh, right. Sorry."
I'm about to turn away when he calls, "Hey! Were you shooting a video with that thing when you spoke to Townsend last night?"
I reply, "Uh, yeah. But I didn't include it in the vlog I posted last night. It was boring. Haven't deleted it though. You wanna see it?"
"I'm busy now. Later tonight, okay?"
"Okay, Dad."
O
News of Mr. Townsend's death has left my mind blank. Well, more blank than usual, that is. I just walk around aimlessly with my head and shoulders slouched, my phone dangling in my hand, unintentionally shooting a video of my feet as I walked.
The vlog is the farthest thing from my mind, except when I look up, I realize that I had automatically walked back into the park.
"Well, I'm here anyway," I tell myself. "Might as well."
I won't need to use my phone's flashlight since the sun is still setting. But before I could get started, the surface of a blade catches the sunlight, and I see it shine from the corner of my eye. I quickly sidestep and only barely manage to avoid the knife.
I turn and see that the attacker is my best friend, Max Kato. But everybody at school calls him Beta Max for some reason. Max is an Asian dude, shorter and skinnier than I am. He's wearing a hoodie like the one Mr. Townsend's dinner guest was wearing. Maybe it's in fashion.
Max's eyes are wild with rage, the weapon shaking in his hand, so I say, "Hey, man. What's up?"
He roars and lunges at me, thrusting with the knife. I parry and evade the blade. Max is acting a little strange. He doesn't usually try to kill me. But I'm a little too distracted to think about it right now.
"I'm glad you're here, man," I tell him. "I really need to talk to somebody right now. Did you hear about what happened to Mr. Townsend?"
He just roars some more in reply while swinging the knife, so I continue, "He died today. You know I lost my mom early, right? And my dad was working a lot, so when I was a kid, I spent most of my time over at Mr. Townsend's. I would help with the household chores, and he would tell me old war stories."
Max snarls, "I'm gonna fucking kill you!"
I don't know how to reply to that, so I just keep talking about Mr. Townsend, "I'm not saying he was a substitute parent or anything. Nothing like that. But I am gonna miss him."
I intercept Max's next swing by shoving him away with a big open palm to the chest. He loses his balance and hits the back of his head against a thick tree trunk. Then, he slumps to the tree's roots.
"Good talk, man. I'm feeling a little better already. Later!" I tell him.
Not sure he heard me though. He may have been unconscious.
O
I shoot another video of the park. Still nothing and no one here except for that tall, bald, faceless dude in a suit. He has tentacles instead of arms today, which is probably a little weird.
I greet him with a polite nod then decide to go back home because it's starting to get dark. Max is no longer where I left him, so I guess he went home, too.
O
Dad, his deputies, and the paramedics are no longer at Mr. Townsend's house when I get back, but there's yellow crime scene tape everywhere. My phone vibrates.
I check and see a message from Dad that reads, "Will be at work all night."
I'm about to reply when somebody yells at me, "Hey! You Melvin Mail? You the idiot that wants to prove the Operator isn't real?"
I look up from my phone and see a pudgy dude walking towards me while holding a cigarette in the corner of his mouth.
I put my phone away and ask back, "Who wants to know?"
"I'm Tim Wright," he introduces himself. "You're an easy guy to track down. Good thing you're pretty popular in these parts. I read your comment on my blog and dropped by your house last night to try and stop you from getting your stupid ass killed, but you weren't there. Have you had a chance to watch the videos in the flash drive I left you?"
I really don't like name-calling, so I punch him in the face, knocking his cigarette away.
"What the fuck?!" he screeches while swinging his arms wildly to try and stop himself from falling on his fat ass.
I swing my other arm to hit him again, but he somehow manages to duck under it and slug me in the stomach. I guess he must be stronger than he looks because even my rock hard, chiseled six-pack couldn't protect me from that blow. The wind gets knocked out of me, and I fall on my hands and knees.
"Calm down, you lunatic!" he yells at me. "I didn't come here to fight. I came here to warn you about-"
I spring upward and crack him in the chin with the top of my head.
"Son of a bitch!" he shrieks as he staggers back.
I still haven't recovered from the punch in the gut, and before I could follow-up on the headbutt, he kicks me in the nuts. This guy fights like a bitch. But the move is effective, and I fall back down on all fours.
"Bastard! I could've bitten my tongue off," he growls. "Are you done now? Coz I have something really important to tell you. Something that could save your fucking life. So pay attention." He pauses to catch his breath then says, "I've dealt with the Operator before-"
I sweep both his legs from under him with my right arm, and he crashes hard on his back.
"Asshole!" he snarls.
Then, he kicks me in the face. My vision starts to blur.
Before I pass out completely, I hear Tim say, "Fuck you! I'm done trying to save your dumbass. Go get yourself killed for all I care."
Then, everything goes dark.
TO BE CONTINUED