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Chain's Origin

Chain was raised as a normal girl, until she got to the age of thirteen, that's when her life became a hell hole. She was always so beautiful to everyone, a lot of boys have asked her out since she was the age of ten, but after what her father did, everyone that loved her, hated her. Her name is lost in her memories of happiness, and is now replaced by the thing that has saved her, which is also the assistant to what had hurt her.

The chain, which was used on her for many years, was a barbed metal chain that was covered in dry blood that belonged to her. On one end of the chain was a sharp, spear like end that could pierce through almost anything.

The girl, only known as Chain, was almost raped and beaten to almost death for four years, and decided that enough was enough. On her seventeenth birthday, she took the chain that had hurt her for so long, and went to her father, who was once again drunk as ever. She was fueled by rage, and could only hear a voice in her head chanting for her to kill him, to torture him until he was begging like the dog he is.

(Chain's POV)

I stood ten feet from him, and then struck him with the chain. He woke up in a hurry, holding his face in pain as his eye was entirely ripped from it's socket. He glared up at me, and went to grab me, but I blocked his hands back with the chain, and then kicked him back with my steel toed combat boots. I shot my chain at him again, ripping chucks of flesh and muscle off of him as he continued to scream. Although, no one else lives here anymore, he killed my mom and sister when he came home drunk one night.

Soon enough, the screaming stopped, and he stopped moving. He laid there, dying in a pool of his own blood. I took some of his blood into my hand, and began to write on the wall with it. "Death to the haters." I wrote, then was going to leave my name at the end for a signature, but, what is my name? I looked at the chain, and smiled at my weapon. I signed my name as Chain, and then left to my room.

I got an outfit that I'd never thought I'd wear out; a tight black corset for a top, black skinny jeans that showed a lot of my curves, my boots, a pair of leather finger-less gloves, and then packed a lot of my important things into a sports bag, then picked up the phone and a gun, and dialed 911. The phone was picked up, and the woman asked my emergency.

"You have to help me! Someone is in my house and trying to kill me! They killed my father already, and now they're t-" I fired the gun and banged on the door as I released a small cry of fear. "My address is 1643 N. Ranksman, and hurry please!" I yelled next, then kicked the door down and released another scream. I dropped the phone, and made noises of some fake struggle, and destroyed some other parts of the house as well, to make it more realistic. I broke the backdoor open, and hightailed it out  when the sound of sirens came.

I ran fast, going through yard after yard, until I came to the forest, then ran along the forest trails, the moon being my only light to the paths. I didn't stop until I was tired, and by then, I was at the top of the mountain area. I looked down at the trees and landscape ahead of me, seeing the entire forest from this point.

A cool wind came, blowing my long, curly brown hair back from my very dark brown eyes. I pushed my glasses up along the bridge of my nose, and looked down at the ground below, it looks to be quite comforting right now, and seems to be very welcoming to have my dead, crushed body lying on the rocks and grass at the bottom of the steep cliff on the moutain.

I stepped up to the ledge, and was about to let myself fall forward, when something wrapped around my hand. I turned, the faceless face of Slender Man in my view. I allowed myself to be taken away from the edge by him, his tendril being replaced by his hand as he got me closer.

"What are you doing my dear?" He asked first, being quite kind.

"I killed my dad, and was about to kill myself." I said back.