Oh god…. I just looked back at my last post. That just looks terrible. I feel ashamed that I wrote something like that. It’s like something written by a grade schooler. An imbecilic grade schooler. I would make an excuse about not being able to focus because of the odd dreams (Yes. Weird dreams. I am drowning in clichés here.) I have been experiencing, but nothing can excuse this atrocity. It would have been better for me to just ignore that coyote corpse, and gone through the weekend as though nothing of note (beyond being stalked by a humanoid abomination) had happened.
As a way of making up for forcing you to experience such a terrible travesty, here are several photographs of another forest which I went exploring through recently.
These aren’t from the forest of my home. Yesterday, I drove out into the countryside (something which Texas has in vast quantities), miles away from any large city. This distance between Slendy and I had been making me feel horribly depressed. Was it something I said? Come on, Slendy, don’t leave me alone like this! I promise I’ll change, baby!
I’ve already repeated my dislike of this more subtle attitude he’s shown towards me far more times than necessary, so I will just skip to how I chose to respond to it. Boldly striding into my home forests elicited not one reaction from my foe. So I created a new plan: I would venture into uncharted waters, journey into a stretch of woods where I did not have the protective feelings of nostalgia and familiarity around me.
For over an hour and a half, I drove southwest, until I was surrounded by ranchland. Here was the wide open wilderness; huge ranches which stretch for hundreds of acres. The property is always protected by fences of barbed wire, but I have some experience with getting through such obstacles unharmed (remember kids, trespassing is fun and cool!) I selected the ranch which I would steal away inside based on whichever appeared to have the most trees; the better to draw Slender Man out. I cut through the fence at an isolated point, and established a small camp in a hidden corner of the ranch. So long as I kept away from the main trails and the herds of livestock, the land was large enough that the chances of the owners finding me were small.
For several hours I wandered through the trees, though I kept close to my camp. Nothing happened occurred during those hours, another disappointment for me. When the sun dropped below the horizon, I returned to my camp, so I could wait out the night.
As any other person would in this situation, I made a campfire (carefully located so that it would be hard for any wandering ranch hand to see it from a distance and discover my entry), and began roasting marshmallows. Yeah, you wanna scare me with your oogie-boogie-ness, eh Slendy, but lookit this, I’ve got s’mores! Yeah, delicious s’mores! And you don’t get any! So ha!
He appeared late in the darkness, a silhouette behind the flickering flame. Apparently all it takes to draw him out is to wander into the middle of his territory, break off some of his cousins’ (?) limbs, light those limbs on fire, and then use that fire to create delicious treats. Mouth filled with chocolate, sugar, and granola, I shouted at him to come over and join the fun times which were being had by the fire.
Upon the last crumb spewing word leaving my mouth, the fire flared up high enough to singe my face. Slendy had vanished while I was temporarily blinded by the flash of light. Assuming that my plan had failed, I resumed my arduous task of lighting a cylindrical piece of sugar on fire. Except now he was just behind me, a fact which, upon realization, caused me to nearly choke to death on the delicious goodies in my mouth.
For once, I reacted to him in a manner other than paralyzing fear; though to be honest, my sudden attempt to throw a marshmallow at his face was less a defiant act of battle, and more a thoughtless, adrenaline driven “Oh shit, I didn’t think he would actually come over here” reaction. I never got to see what the effect of a marshmallow hitting Slender Man would be, for it vanished seconds before touching him. I considered charging at him with my tiny little stick, but whatever excitement had led to me throwing food at him had already been used up, and I was back to watching him helplessly. I saw his tentacles growing, reaching towards me, and then I blacked out.
It was several hours later when I woke up. The scenery around me had shifted from dark ranchland, to my well lit bedroom. Hovering next to my bed was our favorite Slender Man, his face just next to mine. Upon seeing that I was awake, he slowly turned around and walked out from the room. For several minutes, terror gripped me, but when it faded, rage replaced it. I ran out my door screaming in anger, but of course by then, Slender Man was long gone. Off to terrorize some other soul.
Since then, I haven’t been able to find my sleep meds. Obviously Slendy is planning to sell them on the streets so he can afford some novelty ties. It’s only so long before wearing black or red would become boring.
Without the medicine to force my eyes to close at night, I suspect I’m going to be having quite the fun time these coming nights….
At the moment, I have another tab on my browser open, to local news stories. One is featuring a story about the ranch which I spent part of my night in. It used to have 43 longhorn steer roaming it. Now it has zero. All 43 were found, organs ripped out, in a ring around my campsite.