I never understand people who carry hope while being pursued by this thing. Fighting it, that I can understand. What better opponent than one who is powerful enough that some consider it to be a god; an opponent who cannot die, who could snuff out your life in an instant? It’s the best fucking thrill in the world; the ants biting the feet of the elephant. Eventually it’s going to stomp on us, but before it can do that I’m going to bite it hard.
But hope? This is a thing that can at any time, even this very moment, while you’re reading this page, appear behind you, wrap a tentacle around your neck, and pop off your head, all before you’ve had time to scream. None of us are getting out of this alive, and it’s foolish to tell yourself lies about that. Just accept that your death is imminent, and allow the freedom that comes with that knowledge raise you up to greater heights than any of the other humans wallowing below you.
This is a morbid mood I’m in right now, isn’t it. It’s to be expected. I did almost die. And to think, my only regret was that I never got a chance to kill Javert….
It happened last night, after I had parked my car by Town Lake (which, for those who are not knowledgeable of Austin, is not a lake, but a river.) It’s a nice place; I enjoyed running along the trails and parks there when I was younger.
It’s also semi-wooded, so in hindsight, what the hell were you thinking, Arkady.
If I had to say what it was that led me to making such a stupid decision, it would be complacency. Ever since coming to Austin, I had not once seen Slender Man. The closest I had come to an encounter was that brief glimpse of Porfiry wandering through the crowd downtown. Apart from a few bad nights and the rare twinges of pain which I still felt, there has been little to remind me of his presence. And like a fool, I began to fall into routine; I let my guard down, and began thinking not of the next glorious battle, but of frivolities such as enjoying the serenity of the river at night.
The river was nice, I’ll admit. I sat on the hood of my car, watching the water flow by. The lights of the city painted the sky behind me, but the trees muffled the noise, creating complete peace. It was a reminder of why I enjoyed nature so much before this all happened.
This moment of calm was ruined when Porfiry came sprinting out from the trees with a knife and tried to tackle me off my car. Let’s just say, that took me a tiny bit by surprise. He was moving in the same way as I had seen before; not running, but being pulled, a puppet dragged along as its strings moved. His eyes were blank discs, showing no life in them, and his attempts to stab me were clumsy and unbalanced. Even so, he was fast, much faster than I’d have expected him to be. Had I not been on top of a car, I’d have suffered some grievous injuries there. Instead I was able to use my superior position to kick him in the face as I tried to reach for me.
I have to say, it feels good to fight against someone who isn’t Javert, and therefore isn’t capable of beating me to death with their bare hands. The last time I had an experience like this was that masked freak who entered my apartment during my breakout, and that was over much too soon to be enjoyable. Maybe it was the police uniform, maybe it was the knowledge that he had worked for Javert, or maybe it was just the memory of that condescending tone Porfiry had used the last time he spoke to me, but I wanted to have some fun with that fight. I could have cut his throat with my knife, bashed his head in with my sword, or…. Paddled him to death….? With the paddle, but I resolved to end it with old fashioned fisticuffs.
Let me tell you this, kids, there are few things more entertaining than someone who knows self defense fighting against someone who doesn’t. Before Porfiry had recovered from my foot to the face, I was already off the car and delivering several more blows to him, all of which he failed to block. I really wasn’t fighting a person, but rather, a doll. A doll which would occasionally try to grab me in a pathetic excuse for a grapple, but a doll nonetheless. He didn’t even react when I broke his wrist, and the knife he had been holding clattered on the ground. Soon, he wasn’t even trying to grab anymore. Poor Porfiry just stood there, being hit over and over.
I can remember the feeling that moment; such a wonderful feeling. I couldn’t stop myself from laughing, as I felt his nose cracking, saw blood flying from his mouth. And then, that moment where the light returned to his eyes, where he seemed to finally wake up and realize where he was…. Oh, that was amazing. The man tried begging through swollen lips, air whistling between missing teeth…. I had to laugh harder, laugh at him for thinking that asking me to stop would make me stop.
Then, it did stop, but not by my choice. Familiar pain wracked my body, and I collapsed on the ground as my nerves were set ablaze. Behind us, standing so stilly, was that stupid faceless thing. Porfiry went down on his knees, blubbering something. Whatever fear I had inspired in the man was nothing compared to that which was on his face then; it was complete, animalistic terror, raw fear without any trace of intelligence behind it.
The thing began walking towards us, with its slow, long steps. Again, I could feel some odd sense of communication, an offer, or a promise. So little a price, but so great a reward….
Fighting against the pain, ignoring the feeling that my chest would rip apart every time I took a breath, I stood up to face it. Just remaining upright was an effort of will, but I forced my legs to remain steady. Slender Man paused in its walk towards me, and tilted its head slightly to the side. With great effort, I reached into my pocket and pulled out my knife.
In my head, I could hear the finale to Tchaikovsky’s 1812 Overture playing. I took one step towards the thing, then another, and then another, gradually picking up speed as adrenaline rushed through me, dimming the agony slightly. Soon, I was running towards it, shouting a wordless cry of euphoria and pain, holding my knife like a sword which would tear through this thing before me. When I was a few paces away from it, I began my swing, bringing the knife down so that it would cut across its face….
A tentacle lashed out, hitting me in the gut. The force of it sent me flying in the air, sending me far enough that I landed in the river. There’s a very prevalent myth that water is a soft landing. Bullshit. Landing in water fucking hurts. Add that on top of everything else, and it’s no surprise that I blacked out as soon as I hit.
Don’t know how long it was before I woke up, but when I did, I was on the shore, with a paramedic about to start performing CPR on me. Threw up a lot of water there. According to the paramedic, someone had seen me floating down the river, and pulled me to shore. How very kind of them. I’ll have to find out who it was, so I can put them on my “People I don’t want to murder” list.
The paramedics wanted me to get in the ambulance and go to the hospital. In fact, they were very insistent about that. It took a lot of convincing to make them leave me alone. For a moment, I thought I might need to resort to force, but they relented. Apparently anyone able to argue as aggressively as I was has to be healthy. After they left, I started walking upstream to get back to my car. I made it about…. ¼ of a mile before collapsing.
For an hour I was lying on the path, soaked, vomiting, and gasping for breath. There’s a long bruise going across my stomach where the tentacle hit me, and it hurts like hell. It took me the rest of the night, plus some of the morning, to limp back to where my car was. Falling down every few hundred meters because my legs would just give out certainly didn’t help my progress at all.
I’m currently sprawled out in my backseat, using the WiFi from the coffee shop I’m parked in front of to post this. Fuck, I can’t keep this up. My laptop’s down to 14% battery power, I smell like the river, I lost my last knife when Slendy bitch slapped me, all the food and drink I had at the start has been used up, I’m going through money faster than I’d like, and now I can barely move without nearly blacking out from the pain. Fuck it all. Especially you, Slendy. Fuck you.