Trapped in the Abyss

Duck Hunt

*Sarah's POV*

The first thing I did after I knew Alex was gone was wake up my mom. I told her what happened, except for the whole Slenderman thing. I only told her that I'd gone outside and I noticed his footprints. I didn't want to sound like a lunatic. Of course she had asked what I was doing outside so I just told her that I heard a noise and came to check it out. I knew my story didn't add up, but it didn't matter. The moment I told her where Alex was she sprung out of bed and called the police. They arrived at the house about ten minutes after the call. The town was very small after all, and it probably didn't have much of a crime problem. They searched everywhere. Every nook and cranny of that eternal labrynth. I didn't bother asking if they had found anything. I didn't bother doing anything. I knew what had happened to Alex. My Ducky was never going to follow me again. My Ducky was gone. I slowly walked upstairs. Every step taking every ounce of my strength. I willed myself to keep walking. I went into Alex's room and I laid on his bed. I grabbed his teddy bear. It was old and missing one of its button eyes, but regardless of how much older he got he kept it. I hugged it as hard as I could. As if I was trying to get him out the little bear. Like if I squeezed hard enough he would come back to me. I curled up, hugging the bear through out the whole night. I didn't allow myself to cry, and I didn't stop myself. I laid there in his bed every night doing the same thing. I would sing his favorite lullaby and then just sort of... Stop. Stop controling my actions. I was a lifeless rag doll through out most of the day. At night I cried myself to sleep. I never sobbed. In fact, not a single sound came out of me all day. The tears would just come out and spill and I didn't stop them. I couldn't even feel them sometimes. I grew numb to almost any feeling. This continued for the next five months. Two months after that my mother committed suicide. She had taken a whole bottle of sleeping pills. The morning I had found her she was laying on her bed. She looked more peaceful then she ever had in a long time. I didn't try to wake her. I didn't check for a pulse. I knew that she had gone. I wasn't sad. I just covered her with a blanket and called 911. The house was so big now. It was empty. I understood why my mother did what she did. I couldn't hold that against her. Alex was gone along with my dad and she couldn't find the strength to go on. She killed herself on the same day my father died last year. Happy birthday to me.
My mother had left her entire estate to me. (Who else was there?) I didn't want to move houses. So I decided I would stay here. I don't want to leave yet. There is still something I have to do. I am no longer saddened by my loss. It has made me stronger. I am no longer conflicted over my beliefs. Slenderman ruined my life. It took my family from me, destroyed my happiness. Now all I have is hate. Pure hate for that fucking monster. I will not live happily ever again. But I will not get peace of mind for as long as that thing lived. Until I destroy it I can not live with myself. I hate that fucking thing with every cell in my body. Every inch of me burns with hatred for the monster that took everything that was dear to me. It had hell to pay, and I will not rest until it no longer breaths.
I knock on every door to every house in my neighborhood. I know the twins are here during this time of year. I find them a couple of houses away from mine. They seem startled by my appearance. I know the whole town knew what had happened. I just don't think they expected to see me in this state. There are dark circles under my eyes. My hair is a mess. I haven't bothered to brush it. I'm exhausted but I can't sleep. Not with that thing walking around. I will not waste any more time.
I ask, "That thing, Slenderman, can I stop it?"
Taken aback by my question they glanced at eachother. Debating wether or not to tell me.
"Look", I begin, "I literally have lost everything because of that fuck living in the woods. I have nothing more to lose. Just tell me how to kill it. Even if I don't succeed at least I tried. I can't live another day if it lives too." There is a long pause.
"Okay", Tim says.
Chelsea then says, "If you want to stop it, then you're going to need to collect the pages of its eight victims."
"What victims?", I ask.
"The children that dissapeared after the Proklet Massacre. The ones the Slenderman started to take from their homes. There were exactly eight of them. Each of them left a page behind with their last words, you could say. Each page is different. The first page ever made was just a mark to show that it was there. Now it's a game it plays. The eight pages are scattered around the woods. You need to collect each and everyone without Slenderman catching you. You do that, it loses the game. It dies. At least that's what everyone believes. It's never been proven. Every parent of a victim that has ever tried, has never come back."
I don't care if I never come back. I hope I don't. But I'm dragging that thing down with me. I'm going to collect the eight pages.