For Madelyn's Contest
Posted August 15th, 2014 by Athenabrain1
The foliage cracked under my feet as I ran. My breath came out visible in the wintry air, a thin cloud of mist and fear.
The ominous night sky was dotted with bright stars that didn't seem to care about my predicament. Bare branches were mere silhouettes above me, gnarled claws gripping at the air.
The fact that it was midnight didn't help much. An owl's terrified screeches and the flapping of wings overhead made me snap to attention.
I wrapped my violet sweater tighter around myself helplessly. I knew it. I was too late.
I should've known. Running was no way to face him. He was here already.
The one person I'd been running from my whole life. Even when I was a child, I feared him. The stories my mother told never helped, about him kidnapping children my age for reasons nobody knew.
I saw him in my dreams, my nightmares, my daydreams. He always appeared as one thing or another, always part of an illusion. A faceless dog. A faceless old woman. A faceless mother. Always there, hidden crudely, and faceless.
My father had shown me pictures he had supposedly "taken" of the spectral figure. The crisp suit scared me most of all. Why would someone so scary wear such nice clothes?
In some variations on the photos, tentacles snaked up around the rims of the photographs and loomed towards the photographer. My dad claimed it was him, but I wasn't so sure. How did he even survive?
My father had disappeared one day while out searching for my dog Jello. Jello came home with his front leg cut off, all bloody and gory. My father never did return.
I remembered sitting on the front porch in this exact spot, waiting and waiting for Father to come home with his leather suitcase swinging from side to side, whistling a jolly tune.
My head started hurting when I thought of part of the song my father used to sing:
He's out there
On your grave
That song would always make me burst into tears.
My blood ran cold when a twig snapped behind me.
A few more times, getting closer and closer each time.
I turned around mechanically without wanting to like something or someone was controlling my moves.
Then I was faced by him. He was real.
His blank mask of a face was carved so intricately I almost stopped breathing. A thin nose protruded from the middle of his expressionless face.
The face that was so pale it could be mistaken for marble. Though one would wonder whether he was made of marble, though.
He was like a statue altogether. Then my eyes lowered down to his suit.
The suit my father joked was from this store he went to regularly because he needed new suits often for business meeting.
It was nothing like I'd expect from someone who'd been roaming the forest for years, centuries, even.
The black tuxedo looked so new and well-washed I would've thought he was an entrepreneur if I saw him on the street.
The same owl from before flew away overhead, then I heard a light thud a few feet away from where I was standing.
I didn't dare look away; not at all. Looking away meant absolute death.
But death was something I was looking straight at, no?
This was Slenderman, after all. The grotesque tentacles waved mockingly behind him, all pointing straight at me.
A little girl's voice in my head almost scared me to death.
Ring around the rosies,
Hop around the posies,
We all fall down.
The same little girl giggled sinisterly in my head and faded away slowly.
Slenderman took a step closer.
I raised a hand to welcome the fate that awaited me so soon.
And Slenderman was staring right into my face.
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