The Slenderman Chronicles - Book 1: The Woods_Ch 1
I woke from a horrible nightmare. I had been another person in another life. It had ended with me dying. killed by a being I vaguely remember calling itself "Slenderman".
I sat up and looked around my dark room, then glanced at the LED display of my alarm clock. It read 2:15am. I sighed and put my head in my hands, knowing it wouldn't be easy getting back to sleep.
So, I pulled off the covers, got up, and went of to the closet and picked out a random shirt to put on. After I had pulled it on, I went out into the small living room of my apartment. Walking across the the room to the kitchen, I noticed the door to the second room, the one I used as an office, was ajar.
This was strange, because I had made it a habit to shut the door every time I left the room. I walked over over, opened the door, and flipped on the lights, and looked everything over.
This room was my life. My computer, electronic devices, art supplies, CD and DVD collections, video game
The Slenderman Chronicles - Book 1: The Woods_PrlgThe Slenderman Chronicles - Book 1: The Woods_Prlg2 years ago in Sketches More Like This
The Slenderman Chronicles - Book 1: The Woods
Rich Redmond sat on a covered platform looking out into the woods. It was late evening, and he
could just make out the platform his hunting partner, Phil Coalson, was holed up on. They had
been waiting all day, watching the woods around them, searching for any sign of game.
Usually they could bag a kill almost every day, expending the tags they had bought well
before the season was over. But this season was different. The forest seemed dead. The woods
would have been full of chatter from small animals and insects. But now, not even a breeze
floated through the trees. It made waiting for game unspeakably spooky.
Hours past, and the sun was setting. The sky was blood red, casting everything in a orangish glow.
Rich was just about to call Phil on his two way radio, when he heard some rustling to his right.
He carefully peered down to the forest floor, to see a buck moving right past the tree his platform
was built in. It had a noticab
Slenderman - MisunderstoodWhy don't you humans get it? I'm not the enemy. I'm just different, that's all. You are not used to seeing my kind. That's no surprise. I am one of two that's left. I also have a cousin, somewhere. The last I heard from him was that he found more of his kind in a world made up of blocks. Are you humans there as well? If so, be careful. Don't make direct eye contact with his kin, they take that as a challenge.Slenderman - Misunderstood2 years ago in Profiles More Like This
You humans naturally fear the unknown. I can relate to that. But, you don't try to understand. Instead, you make assumptions.
Let's take my appearance, for example. My height varies, but I am usually 9 feet tall. I have on a black suit and tie, I can make an infinite amount of black tendrils/tentacles come out of my back, and have no face. I am seen as 'unnatural;' as 'alien;' as 'threatening.' Anything that you humans find unusual that intimidates you is labeled as 'unsafe' and a 'threat to your existence.' You must 'exterminate the
BlackBlack2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Black is enemy, Black is friend.
Black comes with death and visions of the end.
Black hides danger, Black hides pain.
Black veils the horror contained in the frame.
Black heals sanity, Black heals wounds.
Black makes you forget the sickening tunes.
Black is big, Black is small.
Black gives life to the deadman's ball.
Black is light, Black is sight.
Black makes the wrong things right.
Black lives inside, Black covers walls.
Black can possess the shriveling walls.
Black is enemy, Black is friend.
Black brings death and visions of the end.
Star-crossedYou woke up onStar-crossed2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
the wrong side of
a cosmic bed
A pillow of
under your head
are all the tears
which you have shed
Your ring finger
in outer space
among a dreamed
Your light shines bright
but not enough
to seize the day
Let your love be
then I'll wish to
AppointmentsI'm a little early for the appointment. I'm supposed to meet someone after they finish with their engagement. The problem with arriving early is that some people don't take it well; and I don't like being hasty. Sometimes, I'd rather not have the meeting.Appointments5 months ago in Short Stories More Like This
While I wait, the city moves around me. People pass me as they briskly walk to their destinations. They hardly pay any mind to their path; instead they are mesmerized by the cell phones and devices they carry. Some don't even notice when they nearly graze me. Anything could happen, and everyone is so hyper-focused on their own self, that they wouldn't notice.
Traffic clogs the streets in somewhat organized lines. Vehicles crawl, protesting with horns and shouting. Everyone is in their own world, even in the cars. A distant siren occasionally adds to the cacophony.
If I listen carefully, I can hear some noise at the end of the alley. They're a bit indistinct. I sigh as I realize I was much earlier than what I liked. The sounds stop sho
IntensityCoffee: two creams, one sugar, one Sweet 'n' low. Pancakes: short stack. Side of bacon. Every Tuesday and Thursday. 9am.Intensity3 years ago in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
The order never changed, though sometimes he would ask for extra syrup, but it was only on the mornings when he came in with unkempt hair and stubble on his high-boned, ruddy cheeks. Those were the rough mornings, the mornings when caloric intake was not on his mind. They weren't often: he was usually very meticulous. Only the occasional day would arise when you could tell the morning had not gone as it should have. My heart ached for him on these days.
He only ever came on Tuesday and Thursday: he didn't have to be in the office (he worked for a mortgage company) until 10am on those days, instead of the usual 9 o'clock. He took the extra hour to have a proper breakfast, even if there were days when he clearly could have spent more time on his morning hygiene practices rather than rushing to a diner. The vainer part of myself thought that he always showed up for me,