Story 6: Slenderman

A Chapter by SomeTypeOfArtist

Don't look at it.

Slenderman

I’m browsing the Internet at 2:00 in the morning, trying to find information for an essay due next week. I am about to call it quits, but since I had been researching for most of the evening I decide to check out YouTube for a little leisure before bed. I see a creepy thumbnail on a video about something called Slenderman.

This will probably be lame enough for a few laughs, I think to myself. A lot of these videos about paranormal entities end up being pretty crappy, anyway. I click on the link and open the video player into full screen.

I jump as a child shrieks out of nowhere, then feel my heart beat as the voice cuts off. There is nothing but darkness on the screen, but suddenly the creepy person from the thumbnail appears, and the narration begins.

The narrator’s voice is deep, like what one would imagine a deity to sound like. His haunting explanation of Slenderman is accompanied by several unsettling photographs of a tall, stick-like man creeping around playgrounds and backyards. The narrator goes on to explain that Slenderman goes after children with his long arms, which he seems to have an unspecified amount of. He has no face, and is dressed in a black suit.

I don’t know why, but I feel nervous watching the video. The lights are off in the room and these photos are weird. Even if photoshopped, the image of a creeper lurking in the shadows behind smiling children gives me the chills.

When the video ends, I scroll down and read comments. I breathe a sigh of relief; from what I can gather, this is another urban legend born on the Internet. I look at my clock: 2:17. I turn my computer off and lie down. My head hits the pillow; my eyes immediately close and I fall asleep.

Or at least, I think I did. I feel myself turn a lot and rise back up, wondering if I had been dreaming. The clock says 2:21; I don’t think I’ve fallen asleep at all. I lie back down and try again, but to no avail.

Throughout the rest of the night, I go through a process of trying to fall asleep, waking up, then discovering I hadn’t slept for any longer than 20 minutes. This is going to be one of those kinds of nights.

I finally wake up at 7:30. I groan and get out of bed. My body aches and I really want to lie down again, but I have to get ready for work. I shower, eat breakfast, and get dressed. I lock the house up and pull my car out of the driveway.

Before I go to work, I remember that I need to stop at the bank to withdraw cash. I pull into the bank’s parking lot and get out to use the ATM. I slide my card in and enter the PIN on the screen. As I was about to choose “withdraw from checking,” the screen grew dark. I turn around and yelp; there is a man no less than 6’6’’ standing right behind me, staring down at the screen.

He also wears a hauntingly familiar black suit. He does have a face, however. I give a sigh of relief.

“Are you okay?” he asks me.

“Yes, you just startled me,” I explained as I finished my transaction.

“Sorry,” he said as I stepped aside and let him use the machine.

I laugh as I head back to my car. I suppose that silly story has me more freaked out than I anticipated.

I start the car and glance in my rearview mirror before pulling out. As I pull into reverse, I do a quick double take. There’s someone standing behind my car. Same black suit, but this time there is no face. I quickly turn my head around.

There is no one there. I look around the parking lot, but I don’t see him. I don’t see anyone, not even the man behind me at the ATM. I try to shrug it off and continue driving to work.

A normal day passes as I drag out my shift at a dying convenience store. My boss sits at the register, waiting for customers, while I try to tidy the place up. I sweep up dirt, dust, crumbs, and other litter off the floor and empty it into the garbage. It’s pretty full, so I tie it up and proceed to take it out back to the dumpster.

I open the back door and see kids skateboard along the back alley of the shopping plaza our store is located in. The boss hates it when they loiter, but I don’t mind. I ignore them as I move past and fling the bag into the dumpster. While I’m out here, I decide to have a smoke. I take one from my pocket, along with a lighter, and light a cigarette. I’m still tired and achy, so this is a real treat for me.

I watch the kids take off after a few minutes and stand in silence while I finish my smoke break. I stare out at the woods behind a chain linked fence on the other side of the alley. When I finish, I toss the butt on the ground and stomp my foot on it. When I look back up, he’s there again.

I don’t know how to react, but I tense up and start sweating. I stare back at him. He doesn’t try to hide; he stands there, staring back. At least, I assume he is. The missing face makes it hard to tell. His hands are resting on the fence, but other than that, he is perfectly still. I close my eyes, praying that he will disappear when I open them again.

I am a rational person. I know Slenderman is a fake myth put onto the Internet for amusement. I got caught up in the moment, and let myself be frightened of a figment of my imagination. I’m not even a child, for Christ’s sake; I’m 25 years old, even if the Slenderman was real, he has no interest in me. I open my eyes.

The Slenderman is gone. I look up and down the alley to be sure. I just hear the sound of the kids from earlier as they skate back towards me. I breathe a sigh of relief and go back inside. I tell myself to stop falling for silly deceptions and finish the shift at work.

At 7:00, my boss relieves me. I gather my keys, phone, and bid him goodnight. The sun is starting to set. I keep forgetting that summer is ending, and the days are growing shorter. I get in my car and drive to the Shop Rite before returning home.

When I arrive, I grab a lone carriage from the parking lot and hurry inside. Ideally, I would have gone shopping later this week, but there’s little food in my apartment and I need dinner tonight. I cruise through the soda and chip aisles first and grab the “necessities.” Then I head towards the frozen food section to pick up my Lean Cuisines.

Shop Rite has a good sale price if I buy five dinners, so I open the door to pick out my favorites. A wave of chilly air blasts my face, and sends a chill throughout my body. I move different meals aside as I look for chicken enchiladas and French bread pizza. The last few are shoved towards the back, so I reach in to take them.

Something touches my hand. I immediately pull back and look to see what it is. I assumed it’s an employee from the storeroom, loading in more products from behind the scenes. But the hand that came out is completely black.

It isn’t a hand at all. It’s… I don’t know what it is. Something like a thin tentacle, but it is sharp and cold. It pulls back into the storeroom. Against better judgment, I peer through the frozen goods.

I see the storeroom filled with boxes of food waiting to go out, but nothing else. I try to get a better look, but it’s difficult because I can only see so much with one angle.

Suddenly, he appears. I’m less than three feet from Slenderman’s head, still bearing no face. I can roughly make an outline of a nose, eye sockets, and other facial features propping from his face, but nothing else. It’s as if someone is wearing a skin tight mask.

He is breathing softly, yet his shoulders heave as if he had been running. I back off and run down the aisle, leaving my cart and groceries behind. I speed past the checkout and leave the store. I quickly find my car and unlock it, then drive away.

I felt that. It wasn’t a figment of my imagination; Slenderman had touched me with his icy tendrils. One of his many “arms,” if memory served correctly. What does he want with me?

Night falls and I drive on back roads to avoid traffic. I want to get home as soon as possible, to read comments on Slenderman giving me further proof of his inexistence. I need anything to tell me that this is all psychosomatic.

I turn onto Oak Glen and drive down the long stretch before hitting home. There is an abandoned farm and factory, but otherwise a huge field lay to the side of the street.

The lack of street lights scares me, and I regret coming this way. This seems like the perfect setting to be assaulted by Slenderman. After driving for a few minutes without incident, however, I begin to relax.

I look out the window as I pass the farm, as I usually do, then turn back around and halt the car. The tires screech as I come down from 50 mph to 0. I’m flung forward, almost smashing my head into the windshield. A person stands in the middle of the road, and I almost ran him over.

Seconds later, I clench my teeth and slam my foot on the accelerator. Slenderman does not exist, and if he does, I will kill him here. The car jumps forward, but Slenderman extends an arm and stops me. His arm muscle does not tense up, nor does he hold it straight forward as one might expect. Instead, his forearm comes back as the car slowly inches forward while his elbow and upper arm bend to prevent his body from moving. He slowly lifts the car in the air as I continue to accelerate before slamming it down.

The crash sends a shock down my back, and I scream. I try accelerating, but the car doesn’t move. I then realize I’m looking into the pavement. The front of my car is wedged in the road. I look up and see Slenderman stepping towards the windshield. He bends over and peers inside. His arms are as long as his body. His sharp fingers pierce the windshield. He clenches and attempts to remove it. Other tendril-like arms fall down from his back and side.

He rips the glass from the car and flings it into the field. He puts hand after hand inside the car and pulls himself inside.

He inches himself to my face and stares. I don’t know what he wants, but I’m now convinced he’s real and he has business with me. I’m so scared, but can’t show it because he’ll win. I will not be afraid of a faceless creature in a suit.

“What do you want from me, Slenderman!?” I shout, spraying spit in his face.

He c***s his head to the side, as if perplexed by my question.

Then a line slowly appears across his face, and opens to reveal a hideous mouth filled with long, sharpened teeth.

“What is ‘Slenderman?’” it asks.

I swallow hard.

The creature quickly grabs each leg and arm with one of his stick-like hands and squeezes tight. I cannot move. I cannot breathe. The mouth slowly smiles and starts laughing and wheezing. It grows each time until it fills the lower half of his face. Two eye sockets slowly emerge, with nothing but two small, red lights in the center.

It comes closer, its mouth growing larger and towering over my head.

A sharp piercing through my skull and jaw, my vision turns black, splattering noises, then nothing.

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© 2012 SomeTypeOfArtist

Author's Note

I was driving home from work one night and was inspired to write this. It's my first attempt at horror and suspense, how did it turn out? Any suggestions to make it better? I think the present tense helps fit the mood, how about you? And what about a better title? I had a few in mine, but this still seemed okay for the moment.