A therapist.

Jesus, Tina.

Sent me an e-mail saying she knew a good therapist.

What I need is a damn exorcist.

Entry 12

Day 44 - Monday

He’s at my work now. Jesus, I thought there was something keeping him away, but there he was, in the corner of the break room clear as day. No one else saw him, and when I looked again he was gone.

But he was there, for just the briefest moment.

Now everyone thinks I’m crazy again, after I dropped my food plate and almost ran from the room. And then, of course, I had to ask everyone else if they had seen a man standing in the corner. And of course they all said no, and looked at me like I was waving a knife around. An hour later, my boss came up to me and told me I should take the day off. After all, he said, stress can be a serious problem, and the best cure is a nice break.

Yeah, that, and getting the crazy guy away from the other employees.

I might just take the rest of the year off. If I’m not safe there, what’s the point?

Shit, I hate Mondays.

Entry 11

Day 37 - Monday

Alex was back at work today. She looked perfectly fine. She didn’t have that terrified look in her eyes that I see in the mirror every morning.

Everyone else acted completely normal, so I guess I was at the office Friday.

Saw this in the parking lot, near the entrance to the building. I was hoping it was just a construction marker, but we haven’t had construction or survey teams out here in years, and I don’t remember ever seeing it before.


Entry 10

Day 36 - Sunday


I woke up sometime this morning in the guest bathroom shower. My head was throbbing, and my mouth tasted like vomit. When I stood up, a bottle of Advil fell off my lap.

I panicked, I thought I had tried to overdose, or he had made me overdose, and that I was already dead and it was just a matter of time before my body caught on to the fact. But then, my addled mind realized that the bottle had rattled when it hit the floor, and on closer inspection I found that it was still almost full.

As I bent over to pick it up, I suddenly felt lightheaded. My stomach rolled and I pitched forward onto the floor. The next time I woke up, it was to the faint sound of my alarm in my bedroom. I stood successfully, but I still felt like hell, and as I passed the bathroom mirror I noticed a new, dark bruise on my forehead from the fall. I shuffled my way to my bedroom, blood rushing to my temple with every step, almost blind from the pain.

After my alarm was off, much to the relief of my aching head, I sat on the bed and tried to remember the previous night. I couldn’t think – it was like I knew what had happened, but every time I tried to remember something it just faded into a hazy kind of vague idea. I knew there was no way I could make it to work, so I had to call in sick. Call in sick and stay in this house with that thing, and a night I couldn’t remember.

When I tried to call the office, no one picked up. It took about five minutes of listening to the automated messages for me to realize what day it was.

Okay, make that two days I couldn’t remember.

After several minutes of trying to piece the night together, I got nothing except an even more intense headache. Did I go to work Friday? Did I go anywhere else? Did I talk to anyone?

What did he do?

When I decided to check for other entries, and when I saw those two

I started to remember. Not everything, but little bits.

I was almost asleep. I was staring at the ceiling light, wondering if Alex was safe, whether He was leaving her alone or if he had her captive somewhere, doing God knows what, if she was still even alive. But before I could dwell on it too long I heard a knock from the front hall. I knew it was Him, and I was furious, and my fear only gave more fuel to my anger. I threw the sheets off my bed and burst out the bedroom door.

It was during the day, now. There was that symbol again, on the floor. I stomped on it, and it scattered, like it was drawn in ash, or black sand.

It was evening again, late, by the look of how dark it was outside. I was in the kitchen, looking for something. Had I heard something? Seen something?

I stared at the knives, like I was considering arming myself, and eventually turned away. I left the kitchen after making a full search around, walking down the hall to my bedroom. As I passed the guest bedroom, its door opened, and as I ran, I heard that sickly wet popping, cracking noise. I was almost in my room, and the door slammed shut on my forehead. I staggered back, and saw his shadow on the door.

That’s all I can remember, now. Every now and then it feels like something else is coming back, then it fades away. I don’t know if I want to know.
im sorry im sorry im sorry im sorry oh god please i didnt mean it im sorry
alwayswatchingyoualwayswatchingyoualways
watchingyoualwayswatchingyoualwayswatchi
ngyoualwayswatchingyoualwayswatchingyoua
lwayswatchingyoualwayswatchingyoualwaysw
atchingyoualwayswatchingyoualwayswatchin
gyoualwayswatchingyoualwayswatchingyoual
wayswatchingyoualwayswatchingyoualwayswa
tchingyoualwayswatchingyoualwayswatching
youalwayswatchingyoualwayswatchingyoualw
ayswatchingyoualwayswatchingyoualwayswat
chingyoualwayswatchingyoualwayswatchingy
oualwayswatchingyoualwayswatchingyoualwa
yswatchingyoualwayswatchingyoualwayswatc
hingyoualwayswatchingyoualwayswatchingyo
ualwayswatchingyoualwayswatchingyoualway
swatchingyoualwayswatchingyoualwayswatch
ingyoualwayswatchingyoualwayswatchingyou
alwayswatchingyoualwayswatchingyoualways
watchingyoualwayswatchingyoualwayswatchi
ngyoualwayswatchingyoualwayswatchingyoua
lwayswatchingyoualwayswatchingyoualwaysw
atchingyoualwayswatchingyoualwayswatchin
gyoualwayswatchingyoualwayswatchingyoual
wayswatchingyoualwayswatchingyoualwayswa
tchingyoualwayswatchingyoualwayswatching
youalwayswatchingyoualwayswatchingyoualw
ayswatchingyoualwayswatchingyoualwayswat
chingyoualwayswatchingyoualwayswatchingy
oualwayswatchingyoualwayswatchingyoualwa
yswatchingyoualwayswatchingyoualwayswatc
hingyoualwayswatchingyoualwayswatchingyo
ualwayswatchingyoualwayswatchingyoualway
swatchingyoualwayswatchingyoualwayswatch
ingyoualwayswatchingyoualwayswatchingyou
alwayswatchingyoualwayswatchingyoualways
watchingyoualwayswatchingyoualwayswatchi
ngyoualwayswatchingyoualwayswatchingyoua
lwayswatchingyoualwayswatchingyoualways
atchingyoualwayswatchingyoualwayswatchin 
dont close your eyes

Entry 9

Day 32 - Wednesday

I got a text from Alex today. It seems she sent it as a mass text to everyone who was at the party.

hi guys ne1 seen my cam? cant find it. thought i had it in my purse when i left, maybe it fell out?

I need to focus on what I know is real. Slender Man. He’s real. All those people online, and all their stories. The rabbit. The bird. The party. The camera. The picture. My scrapes. These entries. This is what’s real.

I don’t know how, but it seems he somehow altered everyone’s memory. He’s already erased some of mine before, so I wouldn’t put it past him, and unless I imagined an entirely different version of the past month, I can’t think of any other explanation. I almost wish I was, but I’m not crazy. Not yet, anyway.

No. It’s going to take more than that. He doesn’t win this easily.

Entry 8

Day 27 - Saturday

Alex finally answered today. I’d been calling her every hour for the past several days, and just a few minutes ago I got off the phone with her.

Of course the first thing I asked her was if she was okay, and she acted like she had no idea what I was talking about. When I told her I had been trying to reach her since the other night when she disappeared, she spoke like she thought I was going crazy. She said she had gone to the coast for a vacation, that she had told me and everyone else about it weeks ago, and she had no idea what I was talking about, disappearing suddenly. Apparently, she left the party – alone – around midnight, had gone home, finished packing, and left early the next afternoon.

I didn’t know what to think. She said she was sure she had told me about her plans. I said she must have forgotten to, and that I must have had too much to drink at the party. We both knew that wasn’t like me at all, but she seemed to accept it. What else could I have said? That she actually came over to my house, my bedroom, that we had somehow been driven out by a malicious entity and for some reason she couldn’t remember it now?

What’s worse is, that the longer I steered the conversation toward her vacation to divert her suspicions, the more it seemed completely reasonable that her story was true. I knew it was wrong, I knew what had actually happened, but there was another part of me that seemed to remember talking to her about her vacation, leaving the party alone, and having a completely uneventful night.

I made up a story about seeing a news report about a tall, skinny man in a suit prowling areas near where she was, and to call me if she had any problems.

After we hung up, I looked for her camera. I couldn’t find it, or the memory card.






Updated:




Day 30 - Monday

I talked to my coworkers today. None of them were giving me those suspicious looks when I came in, and that made me feel sick. They all said the same thing: Alex had been planning this trip for weeks.

This is wrong. This is all wrong.

I’m afraid I don’t know what’s real anymore.

Entry 7

Day 24 - Tuesday

I found Alex’s camera in the yard next to where her car was parked. I tried everything, but it won’t turn on. Something inside must have broken when it fell or someThing. I used an old adapter to plug the memory card into my computer, and this was the only file that wasn’t corrupted.








Alex still won’t answer her cell. 

Entry 6

Day 23 - Monday

So, I went to the party. And I had fun. I mean, there were still the worried looks at first, and I never stopped looking over my shoulder, but after a couple drinks it was almost like everything was back to normal. I had friends again. I was laughing again. God, I forgot what it felt like – to actually enjoy myself.  These people have no idea who Slender Man is. If they have trouble sleeping at night it’s because they’re getting audited, or their job is in trouble. These people don’t stay awake waiting for the door to open.

I don’t even know how it happened. I was in the middle of pretending I had still been keeping up with the current sports news when Alex bumped into me. She smiled at me and, taking my hand, dragged me off while telling me how nice it was to see me out, having a good time. We ended up in one of the back rooms of the house, and there were only a few other people talking and laughing quietly in a corner. She turned to me and her eyes locked mine, smile gone.

“What are you so afraid of?”

I felt a bit like a dying fish, shocked, my mouth gaping open and then closed without making a sound. She told me she had been watching me at the office, how I was barely getting any work done anymore, how I always looked like hell and was constantly glancing over my shoulder. She said that the others were worried it might be drugs, but she said she knew me better than that. Alex. I didn’t say anything. There was nothing I could have said, anyway. It’s not like I could have told her that there was some supernatural, omnipresent being watching me at all times, intent on slowly driving me mad.

All the good feelings of the past couple hours were gone. I stared out the window, but it was impossible to see anything outside. He could be right there. He was right there, obviously. Alex followed my gaze with a puzzled expression but didn’t say anything for several moments.

“What do you see?”

It’s what I don’t see, I almost said. I realized that all traces of my smile had left, and my face had regained its former, anxious cast. I just shook my head and drained the last of the drink in my hand. I told her I needed to leave, but she stopped me just outside the front door. She told me she wasn’t going to let me spend the night alone; she wouldn’t be dissuaded no matter how much I told her it was dangerous, whether I asked, pleaded, or demanded. I was scared, a little drunk, and, when she gave me a quick kiss on the cheek, in no condition to continue arguing when I wanted nothing more than to agree with her.

She followed me home in her car, both of us giddy and nervous when we got there. I wordlessly unlocked the door and followed her into the brightly lit living room. She smiled at me, and kissed me lightly once more. I took her by the hand and silently led her to my bedroom.

She sat on the bed and I told her to wait while I went to the bathroom. I shut the door and stared at myself in the mirror. The eyes staring back looked wrong, empty, like they weren’t mine. I hadn’t been human in weeks, and I knew I couldn’t go through with it, and I had to send her home, where she’d be safe. I left the bathroom and found her leaning against the bedroom door, smiling coyly. She asked me what took so long. Then she turned out the light.

I shouted, and heard a thud behind me. I moved toward Alex as quickly as I could, but something was wrong. I could hear her coughing just a few feet away from me, but I could never seem to get any closer. I groped around in the dark for what seemed like minutes. I could hear her calling out to me, and I could hear sticky wet noises just over my shoulder. Something cold and oily ran across my neck, then started down the back of my shirt. I lurched away, and suddenly it was gone. After another step I felt the door, and found Alex sobbing on the ground in front of it. I fumbled for a second, an eternity, before I finally found the light switch.

Alex screamed as something that looked like a tentacle quickly pulled itself back into the bathroom. I hauled her up from the floor and drew her out into the hallway as fast as I could. I just wanted to get her away as quickly as possible. We half-ran, half-stumbled down the hall and turned the corner towards the front door.

He was standing next to the front door, facing away from us, head turned almost perpendicular to avoid hitting the ceiling. We froze, and Alex stifled another scream into a quiet sob. He seemed to be looking out the window, oblivious to us, and was holding the curtains aside with one of his hands. His tentacles coiled and spasmed, but other than that he was perfectly still. We waited, Alex shaking with tears, too terrified to move and draw attention to ourselves, and he just kept staring out into the night.

There was a loud crunch as I could just make out a large black bird slamming into the window in front of him. Alex jumped and shouted in surprise, and he immediately turned and started taking measured, jerky steps towards us. His tentacles thrashed against the wall, leaving black scars in the drywall. I was paralyzed as Alex slumped to the ground, shouting about his face. Each silent, fitful step he took made my heart beat painful and cold in my chest. He seemed to lengthen with every step, and when he was within reach his arms and tentacles spread out as if to encircle us both.

After that, I don’t remember anything until I woke up in my back yard, hands and knees cut and bleeding as if I had fallen down while running several times. My clothes were stained with mud and grass, and there was no sign of Alex anywhere. Her car was gone, as was the bird on my front porch, though it had left several blood stains behind. I tried calling Alex but she didn’t pick up. She didn’t show up at work, and no one had heard from her since the party. The strange looks are back. I think they suspect me of something.

I stopped by her house after work. Her car wasn’t there, her lights were off, the mail hadn’t been checked, and there was a newspaper sitting on her front step. It didn’t look like anyone had been there in at least a day. I walked around to her back door to be sure, and found a rabbit arranged exactly like the one that had been on my porch.

Entry 5

Day 18 - Wednesday

I’m terrified out of my mind, but life continues. I go through my daily morning ritual of terror, fearfully walk outside to my car, and drive to work. I see him somewhere almost every day, but I’ve yet to see him at work, so I feel a little bit safer there. Although, I’m a little suspicious he’s just lulling me into a false sense of security before he finally crushes what I think is my only refuge.

Still, work has become the best part of my day. How sad is that? The monotonous grind is just slightly better than the constant horror of my outside existence. My coworkers – my friends – all give me these looks. I hardly blame them, I probably look as terrifying as the Slender Man, all haggard and sickly and irritable. I think some of them are afraid I’m going to go postal on them.

But Alex, at least she still talks to me. I’m staring at my blank computer screen when she walks over. Behind her, I see our other friends talking to each other, casting worried looks my way, shaking their heads. But she just walks over, with a concerned look on her face and yet still a smile on her lips, and tells me about a party this weekend.

A party. People still have parties. And at least one of them saw fit to ask me, even if it was just out of pity. At least someone thought I might say yes.

I don’t know if I’m going yet. I’m afraid he’ll follow me there, and I’ll unleash him upon someone else, maybe everyone else.

But then, it would be nice to be around other humans for a change. It would be nice to be around her.

Even if it wasn’t for him, I’m sure she wouldn’t be interested anyway.






Updated:

I’m going. It would do me some good. I might snap if I don’t stay in touch with the outside world. It’s easy to forget that there is an outside world, when I’m lying on my bed, wide awake at three in the morning, staring at the ceiling lights knowing they’re going to go dark any second, praying that time will move quicker and the alarm for work will ring and I can feel like I’ve escaped his influence for a while.

I heard a crash earlier. I’m not investigating. Not tonight.