Dexter Morgenstern - The Slender Man

“About what? Where she found Shana? She’s speaking gibberish for crying out loud she’s not going to be able to answer questions like that in her state!” says Dad.

“We know, but we need to get all the information we can, so we need to help your daughter. In this office is a psychiatrist, Doctor Filbert, and with your permission we’d like to have him speak with your daughter. This could help us both,” he explains.

A shrink? He wants me to see a shrink? For what? I just watched my best friend die, of course I’m going to be upset, that doesn’t mean I’m crazy! I want to shout it, and I even try to, but all of my anger dissolves into further sadness, and all I can do is hold my mouth open for a few seconds. My parents agree to it against my will. I don’t need a doctor, but there’s little I can do to resist being guided from my seat into a private interrogation room in the back corridor of the building.

As I’m being escorted through the hallway, I see glimpses of him- the static fiend that took Shana from me. Every time he appears I want to scream out of both anger and fear, but each time it’s more anger than fear. He wants me to be afraid, and he’s even more hell-bent on stalking me now. He’s appearing around every corner, every corridor, and every window. He’s not in the interrogation room, though.

I always imagined these rooms were supposed to be mostly white, but this room looks just like every other room in the building. It still has the blue carpeting the rest of the station does, and the walls are more of a beige than white. The table is grey and the chairs are blue metal foldout chairs like we have at our school. Dr. Filbert, the bald shrink, sits at one end of the table, coffee in hand. He motions for me to sit opposite him, but even so the officer escorts me to the chair to help me sit. There is a giant mirror on the wall. That must be one of the one-way windows. I’m sure the sheriff and Deputy Yew are watching, but I’m wondering if my family is too.

Just how many people are interested in how I found Shana? It can’t be hard for them to piece together even without me. I wandered into the woods and found her. That’s far from the truth but still something they can go by.

“Can you tell me your name?” asks Doctor Filbert. I’m surprised by his voice. It doesn’t sound aged or deep or anything you’d expect a man of his stature to have. Instead it’s soft but high, like someone who’s trying to coo a child.

“Maybe I should start,” he continues. I want to cringe at that voice; it makes him sound like a pedophile.

“My name is Dean Filbert. I’m a psychiatrist and I’m here to help you,” he explains. I look down at the table. I can’t watch him when he talks.

“I need you to talk to me. If you want you can tell me what happened in your own words, or I can ask you questions?” he tries. I stare at the table. I feel a wave of static pass through me again. That fiend- he, is watching. I grit my teeth behind my lips.

“Alyssa, how are you feeling?” What kind of question is that? My best friend just died and I’m being haunted by a monster. How does he think I’m feeling?

He says a few more things but I just tune him out. What am I going to do? I couldn’t get Shana out and now the entity seems to be following me. Will he wait until I’m alone and then strike? Is he strong enough to pull me into his domain now? I imagine he is basking in my pain right now. If only I could push my emotions away like a sociopath. If I could not care, then maybe he won’t desire me so much.

I look up and catch a flash of annoyance flit across Doctor Filbert’s face, but he wipes it off. I guess it’s unprofessional for a psychiatrist to seem angry with one of his clients. There’s a knock on the door. “Enter,” says Filbert in that peevish voice. I actually do wince this time. I am surprised to see that Bubbe is the one at the door. Sheriff Fraser is behind her.

“Let me talk to her a bit. I might be able to help,” she suggests coolly. Doctor Filbert sizes Bubbe up before reluctantly agreeing. He waves her in. “In private. That means just the two of us. No one needs to see or hear our conversation. Am I understood?” Bubbe asks the sheriff. Sheriff Fraser doesn’t show any sign of disagreement. He gives her one of those ‘whatever works’ nods and then escorts a now-openly-very-annoyed looking Doctor Filbert out.

Bubbe sits down across from me. I’m wondering what she’s going to say, but she doesn’t speak immediately. Maybe she’s giving them time to clear the adjacent room out. I wouldn’t give them the benefit of the doubt though. Then again Bubbe probably already told my parents, who are making sure there are no eavesdroppers.

“That was a very brave thing you did,” Bubbe starts. I look in her in the eye. “I can’t say I would have let you do it, but you did the right thing. I want you to know that.”

What is she saying? I endangered myself and failed to succeed in my mission.

“You can’t keep blaming yourself. I know you did what you could. I’ve never seen someone succeed in the way that you have,” she continues.

“Succeed?” I ask feebly. She nods her head.

“When this thing takes children, they never return. Shana is the only person I’ve known to come back. You saved her.”

I shake my head. “She’s dead… she died just before I escaped,” I say.

“You’re right, she’s dead, but is that such a bad thing?” she asks.

I look at her with bewilderment. What is she talking about? Of course her dying is a bad thing. “Wha- what are you saying?” I ask.

“I don’t know the details. I don’t know how you did it, but when you went in and found Shana, she was alive. Wasn’t she?” she asks. I feel my head throbbing with the painful reminder. I nod my head.

“That means she was alive the whole time she was missing,” she continues.

“I imagine it wasn’t pleasant… in his world. How did it feel?” she asks.

I find her order of questions odd, and not in a good way, but I answer her, sincerely hoping that no one else is watching lest I be pronounced certifiably insane.

“It was dark, and painful… he was laughing at me. I couldn’t see or feel anything… except pain and fear,” I explain.

“And how long were you in there?” she asks.

“It was around… less than an hour… I don’t know. It felt like days,” I say.

“Now how long was Shana in there?” she asks.

I pause for a moment. “…days.”

“If minutes feel like days to you, how long do you think days felt to her?” she asks. I bow my head. Shana was subject to that- no, he’d absorbed her until I cut her off, so she was subject to worse than I was, and for days at end. Her screams… they were very real.

“I think your friend would thank you if she could. She may not be alive to do it, but you did the next best thing. You saved her from him, and gave her death. If she’d remained trapped in that monster’s world, her parents would have been prevented from having closure. Now they can sit shivah for Shana and eventually make peace with her loss instead of being tormented by not knowing for the rest of their lives, ” she says. I shake my head.

“He still killed her though. He probably still has her spirit in his clutches.”

Now she shakes her head. “I don’t think so. I think he needs them alive, weakened, yes, but alive. If he tries to take them when they’re too weak, then they’ll only end up dying, and he’ll lose them,” she says. I close my eyes. Do her words ring true? Have I really saved Shana from a fate worse than death… by bringing her death?

The thought sounds dark… in fact I think I actually feel worse for a few minutes. That means she was tortured all that time… how I felt… she felt that and much more and for a longer period. I shake the thoughts out, now- hopefully, all that is behind her, and she can rest in peace like Bubbe just said.