Saturday, December 18, 2010

Blood on the Driveway

Again with the dead animals. What’s the purpose behind it? Is it supposed to be a threat, saying “This could be you”? Or is it a psychological tactic, meant to crack my mind? Though the effectiveness of such tactics are hampered by my familiarity with his methods. I wake up in the morning, find a dead coyote in the driveway, its blood and organs spread across the concrete, and my response is to shrug and think, “Oh, that Slendy’s at it again.”

My parents are suffering worse than I. They called the police, who poked around the place and asked many of their questions. When it was my turn to answer, “Do you have any idea who may have done this?”, I responded truthfully (lying is bad, dontcherknow.) I don’t think they were very appreciative of my response. Saying “A tall faceless magical man in a business suit did it,” has a way of annoying most in the law enforcement business. I get the strange feeling that they may not have believed me.

There still hasn’t been a clear sighting of Slender Man since coming here. The other day, I thought I could feel his presence behind me as I sat at my computer. The sudden dropping of temperature, the hairs rising on the back of my neck, the sense that something incredibly wrong was just behind me…. I didn’t just suspect that he was behind me, I knew he was there. Just inches behind my back, silently watching….
Responding as any other rational man would, I grabbed my laptop with both hands, spun around in my chair and tried to hit him in the head with it. My grand plan to slay the Slender Man once and for all by hitting him with an object failed when the laptop passed through empty air. There was no sign of him, and all feeling of his presence had vanished.

The dead animals, always appearing just out of sight…. It’s as though he’s just toying with me. I’m not prey; I’m a plaything, to be batted back and forth until he grows bored and bites my head off.
Here I repeat something I said earlier in this blog, during similar circumstances: I don’t like being played with.


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