forgotten wolf animatronic (creepypasta)

Chapter 3: Growing Shadows, Fading Fear

Days stretched into weeks, and weeks became months. Within the mansion's walls, Saber found himself settling into a life that was strange yet unexpectedly comforting. Slenderman's quiet, imposing presence was always near, a constant shadow that, at first, had unnerved him. The cold that prickled through the air whenever Slenderman entered a room, the way the candles flickered lower, casting elongated shadows—it was enough to make even the bravest shudder.

But as time passed, that fear began to fade. Where he once held his breath when Slenderman was near, Saber found himself exhaling, feeling more at ease with each visit, each quiet glance from his silent guardian. The terrifying figure he had initially feared was slowly becoming something more—someone he could trust.

Slenderman wasn't like a conventional parent. There were no warm embraces, no gentle reassurances. But there was something subtle and profound in his care. He was always watching over Saber, appearing without a sound, ready with an eerie yet calming presence whenever Saber's thoughts became heavy or memories threatened to resurface.

One evening, Saber sat in his room, the dim glow of a single lamp casting soft shadows across the walls. He had his hands around a cracked porcelain doll Sally had given him earlier. She'd insisted it would keep the "bad dreams" away, her small, comforting gesture now a regular part of Saber's life. Sally, with her endless cheerfulness, often felt like the sister he'd never had.

A faint rustle drifted through the doorway, and without looking, Saber knew it was Slenderman. The feeling of dread that used to tighten his chest no longer came. Instead, he felt a strange sort of comfort, like a presence that was always there, whether seen or unseen.

"Is everything... okay?" Saber asked, glancing up, his voice holding the tentative tone of a child.

Slenderman nodded, a faint tilt of his featureless head. He moved into the room, his towering form casting a shadow over Saber, yet it wasn't cold or ominous as it once had been. If anything, it was a shadow that felt safe.

They stood in silence, the quiet filled with unspoken words. Slenderman reached out slowly, his long, slender fingers extending toward Saber, almost hovering near his shoulder. Saber didn't flinch; instead, he found himself leaning into the presence, welcoming the quiet acknowledgment.

"Thank you," Saber whispered, feeling the weight of everything unsaid pressing on his heart. "For... for giving me a family."

Slenderman inclined his head, a small, silent gesture of acknowledgment.

As the weeks turned into months, Slenderman's role in Saber's life became more than that of a protector or guardian. He became a constant—a father, in every sense that counted. Saber, with the eternal spirit of a 13-year-old, found himself gradually looking up to Slenderman as the parent he'd never had.

The other inhabitants of the mansion watched this transformation quietly, each carrying their own understanding of what it meant to have Slenderman's protection and care. Even the more solitary members, like Eyeless Jack and Jeff, softened around Saber, seeing him as a permanent addition to their strange family. Sally, ever the joyful spirit, took Saber under her wing like a seasoned sibling, eagerly showing him every room, every hidden corner of the mansion. She often teased him about his serious expressions, trying to coax a laugh out of him.

One night, as the family gathered in the grand parlor, Slenderman entered quietly, his tall frame casting shadows that crawled up the walls. Yet, to Saber, those shadows weren't ominous—they were simply part of him. He sat beside Sally, who nudged his shoulder playfully.

"Slendy's got something for you, Saber," she whispered with a grin.

Saber's eyes widened, looking up at Slenderman, who held out a small, worn journal bound in black leather. Saber reached out cautiously, his hands closing around it, feeling its weight.

"What's this?" Saber asked, his voice barely a whisper.

"A place for your thoughts," Slenderman replied, his voice a gentle echo in Saber's mind. "Memories, dreams... moments you wish to remember."

Saber ran his fingers over the leather cover, something tightening in his chest. He had never expected a gift. With a small nod, he whispered, "Thank you."

As the days passed, Saber found himself filling the journal's pages. Though he would always be 13 in spirit, trapped in the mindset of his final year of life, the years began to subtly shape him. Memories filled the pages—not of his old life, but of moments shared with the strange, unconventional family around him. Tales of hiding in the shadows with Hoodie, sharing grim jokes with Toby, and late-night stories with Sally became a patchwork of memories that filled the journal's pages.

Each entry brought him closer to understanding the life he now led. Slenderman's quiet guidance shaped him, offering a sense of belonging Saber had thought he'd lost forever. There was an unspoken acceptance between them, a knowledge that Saber would always be 13, that he would never grow beyond the age he was when he'd died. And yet, in his own way, he was learning—gaining knowledge from the years passing around him, even if he would never age himself.

One night, Saber approached Slenderman as he stood in the silent hallway, his form barely visible in the dim light. Saber held the journal, its pages filled with his handwriting.

"Do... do you think I'll ever grow up?" he asked, his voice tinged with sadness, a part of him knowing the answer but needing to ask.

Slenderman looked down at him, his faceless head angled thoughtfully. "Growth is not always measured by age," he replied, his voice gentle, carrying a strange, ancient wisdom. "Your spirit remains young, but your understanding grows. Knowledge is a gift of time, and it is yours."

Saber nodded slowly, letting the words sink in. He knew he would always be 13, his mind forever caught in the moment he'd left his human life behind. But he also understood that he could find his own way, gaining wisdom from the life he now had.

And so, as the seasons changed, Saber continued to grow—not in years, but in understanding. He learned the shadows' secrets, the hidden halls of the mansion, and the loyalty that bound him to his new family. Slenderman, once a figure of terror, had become a father in every way that mattered, guiding Saber with patience, allowing him to find his own path within the darkened walls of Slenderman Mansion.

Saber was still, and always would be, a 13-year-old boy. But within this family of shadows, he had found a place where that was enough.