Dexter Morgenstern - The Slender Man

“I’m gonna go speak with your parents,” she says, getting up.

“Bubbe wait!” She stops.

“How come you can see him, and Jamie Willow walked right through him without noticing?” I ask.

“He appears to people who’ve suffered, and those who are suffering,” she says quietly.

She reaches into the neck of her white floral blouse and pulls out a necklace. She unclasps it from behind her neck and hands it to me. I take it in my hand and my jaw drops open. She just handed me her Star of David necklace that must be as old as my Mom. Its outer coating has long degraded into nothing but copper, and it has the weight of a half dollar.

“I know you don’t have much faith in talismans, but it would make me feel a whole lot better if you wore this. You can call it my good luck charm,” she says.

I’m almost in tears. I’ve never seen her without this. She’d chop off her left hand in order to keep this, and now she’s handing it over to me? I look back up and hug her tightly. After the hug she gets up and leaves the room to go express the urgency of having Adam and me flee the state. I put the necklace on and feel its weight drop down as I slide it into my shirt. I wait in my room, pondering the situation.

We’re dealing with some sort of static shadow monster that thrives on pain, and takes children through to his world. What does it do to the children though? Does it kill or torture the ones it takes? Is it torturing poor Shana and Lionel right now? I can’t ignore the possibility. Is it really as old as Bubbe says it is, or are there many of them, a whole race even? That thought terrifies me. I suddenly feel that I don’t want to be alone and head downstairs.

I hear Bubbe discussing the little vacation with my parents. She’s imploring them to take us to Asheville and get us on the next flight first thing in the morning before some “sick child molester” hurts her babies. Her persuasion skills even force me to smile. I’m not excited about going to see my aunt and uncle. They’re very dull people, but if it means safety for both Adam and me, who can argue? I see that dinner has already been served. It’s cornbread, beans, and steak. I sit at the table and am intimidated by the huge amount of food Mom absentmindedly lumped onto my plate. She’s preoccupied with her argument with Bubbe.

“Dan and my sister both work full time, there’s no way I can expect them to take a sudden afternoon off to pick up my children on a hunch.”

“Then you have them wait outside their house until they get off work. God knows it’s worth waiting for a few hours if it means they won’t get snatched in broad daylight.”

I force as much of the food down as quickly as possible, but only end up finishing about half of it. I don’t like wasting food, but I don’t like vomiting either, so I casually get up and just scrape the food in the trash. Mom is on the phone with Aunt Kendra now.

“Yes, alright that’s great, thank you,” Mom says half-enthusiastically.

“What’s the verdict?” I ask.

“Any time after six; pack your bags,” she says.

I go upstairs, but don’t immediately pack my bags. I get changed into some pajamas, chancing quick glances around the room to make sure the monster isn’t ready to creep up on me, and then I go to grab a suitcase out of my closet. It’s not very visible in the jumbled mess of my closet, but it pulls free with a quick yank of the handle. It’s a small purple and black zebra stripe suitcase from Wal-Mart. I used to think it was the coolest thing, until I realize just how easy it is to stick the zippers.

I decide I’ll help clean up my room a bit by choosing from the various clothes I have scattered about- at least the ones that don’t appear dirty. After finding enough shirts and pants to almost fill the suitcase, I determine that the remaining clothes in the floor must all be dirty and kick them into one big pile. I go into my drawers and retrieve socks, underwear, and a few extra items such as a belt and some hair clips just to be sure. I throw some toiletries in, and set my purse on top. Mom would kill me if I leave my schoolbooks so I take my school backpack and set it beside the suitcase. I don’t feel like going through it to make sure there are no hidden knives or- oh right, my Mace. I reluctantly remove the canister from my keychain and set it on my vanity. I won’t be able to bring that.

After I think I have everything. I seal up the suitcase, set the backpack on top and take a deep breath.

“I’m ready for bed,” I say aloud. The eventful day has made me sleepy, though truthfully it’s probably the sickness combined with the exercise. It’s only now that I realize that I have to reopen the suitcase to get my toothbrush.

After I retrieve my toothbrush, I head to the bathroom and hear Bubbe in Adam’s room. She must be packing his suitcase too. After a good rinse of the face and brushing my teeth, I set the toothbrush on top of the suitcase instead of back in. After all, I’ll need it in the morning won’t I? I shut the light off and hop in bed.

Great, now I get to be left alone with my thoughts. My memories are no longer a safe place to retreat, and as worries of Shana, Lionel, and concerns for my own safety set in, my drift into sleep isn’t so peaceful either. In fact, I hear that static howling now. I try and frown, but it’s not happening.

I open my eyes, and this time there’s no mistake. He’s come for me this time. He’s right here in front of me. He’s standing upright, and with me lying down I can’t even see his face. I feel tears of fear, anger, and frustration surging. Why can’t I just be left alone?

I feel the static embrace ready to constrict me again. I will not just give in and go quietly into the shadow world. I begin pushing out with my arms and rocking back with my legs. I’m not going to panic this time. No, now that he’s here I’m going to beat him at his own game. I open my mouth and try to let out all the vocals I can. I can hear myself exhale over the already present static wind, but still no moan. Keep trying, I tell myself.

The fiend looms over me. His shape is constantly shifting, still unable to maintain perfect motionlessness, and yet he’s still able to convey that impression of something perfectly still, watching you. I feel his invisible grip tighten, and terror sets in, making my teeth itch. I want to close my eyes. I want to blink! But I fear if I do he will only get stronger. Shana’s words echo in my head. He wants me to sleep. He wants me to go to sleep. I feel fluid trickling down my nose. I can tell it’s blood by the coppery tang that is sliding down the back of my throat. I feel myself getting weaker under his influence. It’s going take me! I’m going to be the tenth.

I’m trying to scream at the top of my lungs now, hoping that someone in my house will come and wake me, but all I can do is let out a heavy breath. I need help. Won’t Bubbe have stayed awake to patrol us in our sleep? I’m hyperventilating. I can’t let him take me. I feel him back up. Is he retreating? No, he bends down so I can see his face… or I can see where his face would be, if he was an actual man.

He has no face. It’s all blackness, and I can only look for a second before my eyes burn. I guess it is not possible for the human eye and brain to process the visual input of this being from another dimension It’s just so… wrong… that trying to look directly at it results in a disconcerting vision like a combined effect of a strobe light flashing on static. I instinctively close my eyes to dull the stinging pain, but immediately realize my mistake. Now I can’t open my eyes anymore. Its static grip grows stronger and now it’s becoming painful. I can sense his face get even closer to me and the closer his head gets to mine, the louder the static ringing gets. I feel my head vibrating as if hearing something this unnatural is going to burst my eardrums. It’s resonating throughout my mind, as if it’s trying to say something to me. I can make out syllables. It’s saying something. It’s saying, “Alyssa!”