Confusion

I really don't know where to start right now. But I suppose I'll start from where I left off last night.

After posting my last entry I walked up to the house I had found. Now this place, it wasn't like any modern house you'd see while walking down a typical sub-urban neighborhood. This place was old, something that would have come out from the 1800's I suppose. It looked more like a mansion.

I knocked on the door and after a short while an old, short woman with white hair opened the door. She took one look at me, and then she turned around and walked away. I didn't know what to do. I called out to her but she just turned a corner and was out of sight.

By now it was fully dark, I didn't want to spend another night out there; so I walked inside and called out for the woman again. I got no response.

There was this strange feeling after walking inside, my whole body felt like it was buzzing and vibrating. I was definitely knew something was wrong at this point, don't get me wrong, I'm not stupid. But this was a house. A house. Do any of you have any idea what that means? Food. A shower. A bed.

Most of you reading this have these things every day of your life, and if you don't, then at one point you almost certainly did. Having that taken away from you, all the things you use and take for granted on a daily basis, gone, in almost an instant.

I couldn't walk away. I couldn't this down. So I walked farther into the house. And the door behind me slammed shut. I didn't even turn around. I walked around the corner to the left to find the woman, only to find an empty, white wall.

At this point I heard it again. A sound I've heard one time too many. The sound of a child's laughter. Coming from upstairs. I knew this was bad, I knew this was wrong. I ran to the door and when I tried to open it the doorknob dissolved in my hand. I don't know how and I don't even want to think about it.

I turned around and saw, that at the top of the stairs to my right, was a little girl in a while dress. She was holding a bunch of textbooks, like for school. She was smiling and looking right at me.

Up until this point I had never seen any children, only heard their laughs, or their screams. This was new to me, and I didn't know how to react.

Suddenly the little girl started tilting her head to the side, and she kept going, and going, until I began to hear snaps and cracks, until her head was literally at her side. Then she turned and ran down the hall. Giggling.

No exit. No escape. Fear. Only fear. I willed myself not to panic. Panic causes mistakes. We've already gone over this.

Certainly, I shouldn't have done what I did next. But I felt as if there was no choice, that if I ran to another part of the house I would only encounter more walls. I was almost certainly right.

I traveled up the stairs, they creaked under my weight as I stepped on each one.

I decided to follow the little girl's path. I turned right and walked down the wall. It was getting darker and darker, leaving the light of downstairs behind. Finally, when I became encased in total darkness, I decided to turn back.

Except, now there was no light behind me, I couldn't see anything. All around me was pitch black. All I could hear was my breathing.

And soon, I became aware of someone else's too.

When that happened, I got an adrenaline boost, instead of running, I leapt towards the sound of the breathing. I know now, that that was certainly not a good idea. But in that situation, I felt as if that was all I could do.

I crashed onto the wooden floor and suddenly the lights were back on. Except now I wasn't in a hallway, but in what looked like an attic. In front of me was some sort of casket. At least, it looked like a casket. But when I finally decided to open it, all I found where newspapers. Lots of them.

Headlines, all from the early '50s, all from the same town in California. All of them detailing stories about missing children. Dozens of pictures of small children who had gone missing. I kept wading through them. All until I came across a picture of a little girl. The little girl I had seen. I read the article. Her name was Katrina Andrews. Apparently she had been complaining about a certain "tall man in a business suit" following her the week before she went missing. She had been sick with a cold the day before she dissapeared.

"Have you seen my teddy?"

I turned at the sound of the voice. There she was again. Katrina Andrews.

"Wh-what?" I asked. I was too startled to say anything else.

"My teddy. His name is Furry!" she announced in a startlingly cheerful voice.

This was a trick. It had to be a trick. I knew it was a trick.

"Stop it. If you want me, then come out here and get me. But don't taint this poor girl's memory while doing it" I said hatefully.

After that, I can't really be so sure as to what happened. The girl began to twist around and shake, spasming violently. She opened her mouth and screamed. But it wasn't the scream of a little girl, it was the scream of a monster.

I can't remember anything past that. All I know is that a few moments ago I woke up here, in the woods. My computer and what remained of my supplies were next to me. In my hand was a piece of newspaper. On it was a name and a date.

Stirling City, 1953


I really don't know what to make of any of this. I really don't. I'm pretty sure the house was a manifestation of sort created by Him. And that worries me. The story says we willed Him into existence. But when HE starts willing things into existence, that's when I get nervous.

Luckily, this forest is on the edge of a town. Although the last things I want to do right now is sleep. Some research needs to be done, I suppose I may update soon. Unless the obvious happens, in which case, I will not.

Regards.

A small gift

I've been walking for days. I realize I haven't reported back in almost a week; and to those of you who have worried, I apologize. I have been walking through the same empty fields. I used almost my entire food supply.

But the reason I checked in here tonight, is because I've just a few minutes ago come across a house. This certainly has me suspicious, but I'm going inside. If I don't come back, then at least a few people know what happened.

Before I go, there is one last thing I'd like to touch upon, a commenter brought up something I haven't really had time to think about. The question of how long I've been followed.

Truth be told, I cannot remember how long it's been. I realize that according to most sources, Slender Man had his origins on the forum "Something Awful" during the summer of 2009. But it just seems like it's been so much longer, and the fact that I haven't really thought about it up until this point has me more than a little concerned. 

Nonetheless, this is a problem I'm going to have to sort out later. I want to know if anyone lives in this house, if so, then maybe they can give me a ride to the nearest town and I can grab an hours rest in another bathroom stall.

Regards.

Alone in the Dark

It's night now. I'm sitting on the side of the highway. The highway I've been using for three days.

Ever since I left Woodbury, I've been following this same highway. At first, I figured it was just a long highway. Now it seems, that this is not the case. 72 hours on the same highway is something I don't think is normal. At least...not in my experience, and I've had a lot of experience.

 Also disturbing is the fact that I've been seeing less and less of signs of civilization. Fewer and fewer cars have been passing me. If I see another car, I'm just going to have to get it to stop.

I know this is because of Him. I don't know exactly what He's doing here. I've never heard about this before. I'm thinking this is some kind of mind trick. Like what happened in Woodbury. Perhaps I never really left.

On one side of the highway is what seems to be a heavily forested area. I can't tell how deep it goes; and I'm not planning on finding out anytime soon. On the other side, where I'm sitting, is just (from what I can see) just empty fields and grasslands. If I don't find a way off this highway by tommorow, I'm going to start moving through the fields.

I'd like to think I'm just being paranoid about the situation. And for good reason. The things I've seen...the things He's done...

Regardless, if there's anything else here that's worth mentioning, it's the fact that this past week, I've noticed a rather large influx of people reporting sightings of Him. At least five new blogs have gone up. I cannot account for what is a game and what is real. I'm sure there are plenty out there who see this as some sort of game. All I can say is that this is getting worse. The more people that become attuned to Him the more powerful He's going to become.

That's all that's worth saying for now. As much as I'd like to stay here and talk all night, (and I don't think I will be getting any sleep), I have to keep moving. I don't like where this is going, not at all.

Regards.

Distortions

I found myself in a rather strange situation today. I have recently found a town, I think it's called Woodbury. I've stayed here for the night, I had hidden myself in a motel by pretending to have to go to the bathroom. I stayed in the stall for the rest of the night. Nobody came to find me.

Today, as I was making my way out of the town, I began to hear some sort of voice. A male voice. Drifting in and out, lowering and raising pitches as it went on. I stopped where I was, right there, in the middle of the road. Trying to listen. Trying to make out what it was saying. Suddenly, as if night had suddenly fallen, I was aware everything around me had become dark.

All the buildings, all the cars, had become a shadow of what they just were. Broken down cars lay by the side of the street. The buildings looked older, cracked, windows smashed in. I looked up and saw that there were clouds visible above me. They were moving across the sky at a fast pace. As if someone was fastfowarding what was happening here.

Then, suddenly, exploding out of nothing, came the screams of dozens of people. Painful screams. Dying screams.

And then it stopped. Just like that. I was suddenly brought back from wherever I had been. I was back standing in the middle of the street. All was normal once again. Cars were honking at me. People shouting at me to get out of the road.

I've lingered in Woodbury for a while. I don't want to leave. I don't want to end up sleeping in some shack in the middle of the forest. Perhaps I'll sleep in the bathroom once again.

I don't know what happened. He's responsible, that I am sure of. Perhaps He's playing mind games with me. Trying to twist my sense of reality around and around. Drive me insane.

Perhaps not.

All I can do right now is keep going. Although really, as I evidently learned today, there is no point in running anymore. There never was. All these blogs about running, about getting away from Him, what do they really teach? No matter what happens, He can always catch up. It doesn't matter if you run, who's going to stop Him from appearing in front of you one day and killing you right then and there?

You're not safe anywhere. All of us. Living on borrowed time.

All the same, I don't want to live my life in a bathroom stall. I'll be leaving this place tommorow.


                                                                                                                            Regards.

On the road

He came to me. Everything had gone quiet. That's when I knew something was wrong. Do you ever lie awake in your bed at night, and suddenly become aware of how quiet it really is? Not even the wind makes a sound. And you cover yourself up even tighter in the blankets, hoping you don't hear something that you're not supposed to hear. Whispers.

That is what it's like when He comes for me. I've seen the reports. I've seen other people's blogs. Everyone describes things differently. There is never one detail that just matches up. Theories. They're only theories.

I was staying in some small abandoned shack. In the woods. I understand that the trees are where he most frequents. But I could not refuse the gift of shelter. Sleeping out in the open, at night, is far more dangerous.

And the fog. Oh yes the fog. He uses that. I don't understand why and I have since come to accept there is no point in trying to understand. What matters is that He's here. As soon as everything had gone silent and the fog had appeared outside, I understood what was happening.

By then I had already packed everything up. Food, water, and the computer I had stolen from Best Buy. I checked every available opening. But there was no way out. The entire shack had been surrounded by thick, white fog.

Fear and Panic. Two things that cause deaths in stressful situations. When people panic, they make rash, irrational decisions.That, more than anything, is why so many people have fallen to Him.

What do you do when you can't see your enemy? You stay exactly where you are. Scope out the area. The shack I had taken residence in wasn't too far from a highway I had been using for a while. If He came inside, then I could always run.

 I waited. I frequently went around and watched the windows. There was nothing for a long while. I began to think that maybe, hopefully, this was normal fog. But I wasn't going to leave. He wouldn't get me. Not now. It wasn't time. If this was a trick, I wouldn't fall for it.

Then I heard it. A giggle. A small bout of laughter. A child. The room got colder. Then I heard a tap. I jumped. I turned.

And there He was. Watching from just beyond the window on the other side of the room. I hadn't seen him in four days. Four days of constantly looking over my shoulder, four days of walking down empty highways and watching people; families, in their rich and fancy convertibles smile and laugh as they drive to wherever they're driving to. Oblivious to the World around them. Oblivious to the millions who suffer each and every day from every horror imaginable.

And there He was. He, who represented all that was wrong with the World. Faceless, emotionless.

We faced each other. Neither moved. When you see Him, it's like you're frozen. Watching something so horrifying, yet so majestic. He has a way of making impressions. You can't help but feel amazed at how something like that could be.

There was only one exit. And He was on that side of the shack. So I waited. As did He. I felt as if He was waiting for me to make a move.

I can't help but wonder why. Why does he wait? I hear so many reports of Him just staring through windows. Perhaps he likes to play with his food. If I had that kind of power, I would have a similar attitude. Why kill them immediately? I could do it anytime I want.

I was so lost in thought at that point, that I didn't even realize He was gone. He had left. Perhaps He can read thoughts, perhaps He heard me wonder. Maybe He was trying to prove a point. So many maybes.

I waited another hour. The fog had dissipated. Allowing me to see the trees again. I was't sure if that was better or worse.

I left after that. I ran as fast as I could to the highway. And once I got there, I crossed to the other side of the road where there were no trees. Just grassy plains. I have a feeling I'm in the South somewhere.

That's all for now. I have to keep moving. I'll update whenever something of note comes up. Or, on the contrary, I may die and you'll never hear from me again. But regardless of what happens, I'll make sure to attempt to update again.

                                                                                                                             Regards.

Information

I realize my last post was vague, but there wasn't a lot of time. What I can tell you now is that I'm being followed by something. It has a lot of names. The Tall  Man, Der Grossman, The Black Faerie, Takkanmann....Slender Man.

You all know where it comes from. Or perhaps you don't. Maybe this is why I made this. To get things like this out to people. Knowledge is power. I've seen far too many examples of this.

What I'm sure most of you know, is that He, Slender Man, was created as part of a "Create Paranormal Images" thread on the forum "SomethingAwful". Do I even need to bother going over the rest?

Exactly. I don't. Which is, perhaps, part of the reason why I'm here. His influence has spread far beyond anyones control. It's continuing to spread. And I realize that by posting this I am only helping this happen. However, if you are reading this, then you should already know all about this and I'm not telling you anything new here.

But there is so much to tell. And so little time to do it.

I'm here to record, and document. That's all. And maybe, if you decide to use the information I give you, then you'll live longer than I did.

I have to go. The wind outside has stopped. We all know what that means.
                                                                                                                              Regards.

Old news

It's been a long time. Far too long. After finally finding a computer I could steal without being caught I figured the only thing to do was post here. I'm not exactly sure what to say at this point, except to tell what needs to be told.

I've been chased. Chased a long way. I'm sure, that if you've read the name of this blog, His name briefly flashed  through your mind. You all know who I'm talking about.

And that's why I'm here. I don't know how long it's been, or where I am. All I can do now is record what happens.

I need to keep moving. I'll keep in touch.

                                                                                                        Regards.