The Slenderman

Chapter 9

I drove her to her home in silence. She was slow packing her things. These might be her final days. This might be the last time she ever sees her house, her family. But it's a risk she had to take and she knew that. She told her father goodbye, hugging him for a more prolonged period of time than usual. I piled her things into the backseat, and I drive us back to my house.

     As soon as we walked through the door, Leslie slumped over to the couch, crashing face first onto the cushions in a more somber mood than I'd ever seen her. I plopped down in a chair adjacent to her, sighing deeply as I did. Neither one of us moved or said anything for a long time. My parents came and went, giving us slightly concerned looks as they did so. My dog, Winston, jumped into my seat and laid his head on my lap. He whined a bit and nudged my leg with his nose but fell away after a short time. Leslie and I were too depressing, even for him.

    After about an hour of this, my mom finally walked in saying, "You two have been moping around long enough. Either get up and go do something, or take Leslie home. I'll have no more of this depressing mood from you both. Watch a movie, go outside, play  a board game. I don't care what you do. Just do something!"

    Leslie sat up and stretched. We both looked at each other with questioning eyes and telepathically agreed to go to my room. I picked up my laptop on the way there so we wouldn't be utterly bored for the rest of the day. I pulled up YouTube on Google Chrome  and selected Markiplier's channel. No matter how bad a mood I'm in, his videos and personality had always been able to cheer me up. Even with Leslie and my impending doom, his videos couldn't help but make us laugh. Between his comical screaming and his witty and sarcastic banter, I knew few people who disliked him.

    Once we watched our fill of comedy, Leslie and I decided we should make the most of our time. True, it was likely we wouldn't survive past the week, if that long, but that didn't mean we couldn't embrace our friendship and have a bit of fun. It was late at night, but since it was during the summer, my parents were more lenient about what I did and when I did it. Leslie and I decided to do a late night coffee run. We sat and talked about random things for hours. She even read a scary story I'd been working on, as well as a few poems. We laughed and enjoyed ourselves and returned back home around midnight, happier than we'd been the whole time we'd been together.

    On the way back, the wind began to pick up a good deal. By the time we reached the house, we were practically being pushed over from the strength of the wind. The limbs of the trees in the yard had a sinister appearance due to moving around so much. The branches seemed to stretch out like claws of a monster out for blood. I could tell we were in for trouble. 

    "Get inside, quick!" I yelled at Leslie. She stood there, unmoving. I walked up to her, shaking her slightly. "Didn't you hear me?" I asked. "We need to move, now!"

    She looked at me, cocking her head to the side. Then, she smiled. This wasn't Leslie. It was him. The Slender Man had taken over. She shoved me off of her and began walking down the street toward the woods at the end of the subdivision.

    "Leslie, no!" I screamed, jumping up and sprinting after her. I wouldn't let her walk away so easily. She turned and saw me coming after her and began sprinting away. Luckily, I was faster. I tackled her to the ground. She tried to fight me off, putting up a struggle. She bit and clawed and pulled as much as she could, but I was stronger and more determined. I drug the screaming Leslie back to my house, throwing her to the living room floor and shutting the door behind me. As I closed the door, I glanced out and saw the Slender Man standing there, watching me. He didn't have to have a face for me to know he was angry.

    I shut the door and went over to my friend. She was lying on the ground, completely motionless. I bent down beside her.

    "Leslie?" I called out softly to her. No response. I shook her softly. "Leslie," I said more firmly. Still nothing. I grabbed both her shoulders and shook her vigorously. "Leslie, wake up!" I shouted. She jumped, looking around in terror. Not realizing at first where she was or who I was, her fist came up and nailed me in the jaw. I fell away, clutching at my face.

    "What the hell!" I howled, laying flat on my back.

    "M-Megan?" Leslie stuttered groggily.

    "What?!" I shouted in pain, frustrated by the turn of events.

    "Wait, what are you doing on the floor," she asked, confused.  

    "You just punched me, that's what," I hissed.

    "I did?" she said. "I don't remember punching you."

    "Oh, you did more than that," I growled. "You bit, and struggled, and almost got the both of us killed."

    "You mean it happened again?" she whimpered.

    "Yeah, that is what I mean," I stated. "Now could you do me a favor and get some ice?"

    She got up and hurried to the kitchen. I heard the freezer door open and various items clanking around. She returned with an ice pack in hand and a slightly flustered and apologetic look on her face.

    "Here you go," she said, handing me the ice pack. "And sorry I punched you in the face. I promise it wasn't on purpose."

    "Right," I grunted, gingerly placing the ice pack on my jaw. I got up and moved over to the couch, motioning for her to sit beside me. "Obviously, simply sticking together is not going to be good enough," I started. "It seems that the Slender Man is affecting you much more than he is affecting me. I should have realized that the first time we were attacked. He has a much tighter grip on your psyche. That means the only way we'll survive is either you'll have to get a tighter grip on your mind, or I'll have to keep both of us sane. Personally, I'd rather not have to do the latter. The question is, how?"

    "I don't know. I felt fine when we got here, but when I got out of the car, I blacked out. I honestly don't remember anything. I wasn't feeling weird or sick before it happened. It's like I was just gone," she said, concern filling her eyes.

    "Obviously," I stated, "this is going to be much harder than we previously thought. We're going to have to find a way to keep you in control of yourself. That, or I'm going to have to find a way to keep you restrained and in sight at all times. What we'll do if I start to lose it, I don't know."

    "How do you plan to keep me under control?" she asked, brow creasing.

    "I'm not entirely sure," I said thoughtfully. "I can't control you in the matter of your mental body, but I might be able to keep your presence from leaving mine easily."

    "What exactly do you have in mind?" she wondered hesitantly.

    "I'll have to stay up through the night to keep an eye on you. I'll barricade the window to make sure you don't try to jump out. I'll sleep outside the door to make sure you don't leave that way. I have a bracelet with little bells on it so if you move around, I'll hear it. Just to be sure, I'll tie a string to the both of us, one side on your hand and one side on mine, and I'll make sure it's a certain length so if you do manage to get past me or through the window, I'll be able to feel it," I said.

    "It sounds like a good plan," she agreed, "but do you really think it'll work?"

    "Only one way to find out," I stated.

    "But what about you," she asked, concerned. "How are you going to fair if you don't get any sleep at night? It won't do either of us any good if you're over exhausted." 

    "We'll just have to figure that out when it happens," I said. "For now, this is the only plan we've got."