Trenton

The other day, as I was at Dawson's house, we got really bored. I was so bored I almost started telling him about the stuff going on with the leaves and that thing. However, before I could bring it up, he asked if I had ever played Slender. I said I hadn’t, and asked what it was. Instead of telling me, he turned on his computer. He started the game and I saw that we were placed in a fenced off area of a large forest. The computer told us to collect all eight pages. It was nighttime and all we had was as flashlight that was quickly dying. I heard nothing but the chirping of crickets and our own footsteps. I started to get a bad vibe. My fears proved justified when we found the first page. It had several scrawled images on it, most of them looking like trees. I couldn’t make sense of them. As soon as we had collected it, a deep throbbing commenced. It was slow and monotonous, almost like the slowed down beating of a heart. As we were walking towards a car next to a shed, the screen started getting staticy, almost like someone was adjusting an old-fashioned television. I started panicking and asked Dawson what was going on and if the computer was broken. He assured me everything was fine. It gradually subsided and I didn’t think too much of it. Dawson wasn’t telling me anything though. Two notes later, as I was turning to exit a large concrete tunnel, there was a loud booming sound, almost like someone hit every low key on the piano at the same time. It was incredibly loud too. I flinched and jumped back. There was a tall, slender figure standing right behind us. He looked to be wearing a suit and tie. But that wasn’t the weird part. He had no face. It was just pale white.

“WHO WAS THAT?!” I screamed at Dawson.

“That was the Slenderman,” he replied nonchalantly. “Whenever you look at him, the screen gets filled with static. If you stare at him too long, or get too close to him, he kills you.”

“How?”

“No one knows. Some claim he takes you to another dimension. Some say he reaches down your throat and rips out your heart with his long, thin fingers. Still others say he kidnaps you and makes you go insane.” His hazel eyes looked over at me with worry. “Why do you look so pale? It’s only a game…”

“I’ve seen him before,” I whisper.

“How is that possible?” he asks. But before I can respond, every light in the house goes dim, and then flares up in brightness, over and over again. From the computer comes an inhuman laugh. Like the torture of people; like the burning of forests and screaming of children all wrapped into one. There’s a flash of bright light, and in front of me sits a note. Scrawled across it, in a five-year-old’s handwriting, it reads, “HELP ME”.