Victim (Slenderman Story)

10. The eight drawing

Larry wasn't even close to be in Stowe, it might take him about twenty minutes to get back. Time seems to go against him, as well as his muscles.

In the meantime, Morris was trying to contact his wife. But got concerned, as her voicemail greeted him for the tenth time. Giving up afterwards, he went back upstairs to Amanda. This time, he has to deal with her. His wife is much better in such things mind, since he has a short temper. As quiet as possible, he entered her room, assuming that she went to bed. Well, at least he tried to get in. He rattled on her door knob, as she screamed on the other side, "Go away!"

"Amanda, open this door immediately!"

"Get the hell away!" she barked back. Her father was not the type to fight with. He gave her one last warning before giving her an ultimatum, "If this door isn't open in three seconds, I will smash it open!" Silence was her reply. With a red face now, he started to count down, "One!"

Still nothing

"Two!"

"Three!" with his feet, he kicked it open.

There she sat, on the desk, drawing her pictures. Her father wasn't surprised to see the motives of the same tree over and over again, but her fingers were bleeding. "Stop it Amanda!" he begged, stopping her. She started to throw a tantrum, throwing art supplies around, hitting him with her fist and bad mouthing loud. He didn't recognize his daughter anymore. Dark rings were formed under her eyes and a death glare, that could kill, was fixed on him, "Leave me alone!"

Morris is feeling hopeless, "Amanda, please stop this madness."

She didn't though, throwing more things at him. He kept on begging her, until something sharp headed his way.

At last, Larry was finally at home.

His chest hurt badly, while he coughed out. His fear got him going, giving him enough strength to run. His legs were about to give out, as he walked into the house. The same uncomfortable silence reached him. He feared the worst. Without thinking, he managed to get upstairs, towards her room. There, he watched in horror at the sight before him. His father was lying on his back, three scissors were inside his mouth and eyes. This was too much to handle for a young boy. What was more confusing was his sister. In a corner of the room sat Amanda, drawing with blood a few trees at the wall.

She didn't turn to Larry, "His brother. Do you like my painting?"

"Ama..."

"Daddy didn't like it, now he cannot see or talk bad about my masterpieces."

Larry didn't dare to approach her. She took her finger and dipped it into her father's eyeball. This was not his sister, "Ama...why?"

She turned towards him; her face was covered in blood, smiling devilish wide "Because Uncle loves it when I draw."

His throat turned dry, "He is not our Uncle, Amanda."

"I know that silly. This is my uncle. Uncle Slender."

"How did you meet him?" Larry wasn't sure of how it all started. He wanted clarity and his sister is the only one that can tell him.

She grabbed a book out of her school bag. It was about Hansel and Gretel, "To get back home, they made a track of bread crumbs." Larry knew the story too, but refuses to talk. She continued, "I knew that my Uncle was looking for me, so I helped him out. Those stupid girls in my class told me that trick later on."

Amanda draws the girls on the walls, decapitated by slender man, "Uncle Slender didn't like it when I get hurt.l, so he punished them."

"You knew...you knew he wasn't Uncle Robert?"