It had been several days since you had first awoken in the strange bedroom, and since then you and your captor had fallen into a familiar routine. Three times a day he would visit you, bringing food that was well prepared and filling, if a bit simple. On one of those occasions he would also bring bandages, forcing you to lie still as he unwound and rewound the gauze covering your chest tightly. After the third day, it almost seemed that he would intentionally linger over areas with his long fingers still on the roll of gauze, sending a sensation up your skin that was not entirely unwelcome. Perhaps it was your mental reaction that kept him performing this action, a prelude to the observations he had already promised he would be making in the future. He must think you terribly base for enjoying it.
On the upside, your ribs seemed to be healing satisfactorily if the dull aching in your chest was anything to judge by. Although the constantly covered skin was becoming pale and wrinkled from lack of air and excess moisture, the bones themselves had continued to knit while you spent days sleeping and resting in the enormous bed. You had not ever been allowed to leave this room, though it was incredibly spacious and elegant; it was still your prison. Every time Slender left, he would lock the door from the outside leaving you trapped in a room without windows and only the warm glow of lamps mounted on the wall for company. If you had the strength, you would have been excited to go and explore the rest of the room – as it was, you thought it best not to give your jailor reason to terminate you before you had concocted an escape plan. This was why, on the morning of the ninth day of your captivity, you were still curled up in the fetal position surrounded by a nest of silken sheets and covers with your eyes shut tight.
You heard the telltale snick of the lock being turned, followed shortly by a barely audible creak as the door swung inwards to once again reveal the faceless, and as far as you could tell, emotionless man. As was the norm now, he walked in with a blended smoothie of (your favorite fruit) and two pieces of buttered toast with jam and a spoon – he hadn't ever given you a knife, not even when he served you meat. You are well enough, came the resonant bass in your head once again. It wasn't a question. You had been feeling much better since you awoke this morning, and had been contemplating walking around for the first time once Slender left. There was no point denying it, for doubtless he could sense your excitement and relief as well.
A sense of terror washed over you. Though you had agreed to be his test subject, you hadn't wanted it to be so soon after you had healed, without even a day to relish your recovery. No! No, no, no, no, no! You protested, fear suffusing your barely healed limbs. I take it back, kill me if you want!
Slenderman set the silver platter back on the table before replying, seemingly uninterested in your tantrum. Do relax, (Y/N). I have changed my mind. I will not kill you, unless that is really what you desire. I have no more need of you as a test subject – I merely wish to have a doctor examine your progress towards healing.
This was a strange change of heart, and you were immediately suspicious of his motives. Could he have found a different human in place of you to torment, making you expendable? But he had promised to not kill you, and so far, he had been as good as his word on everything he said. You found his brutal honesty calming, in a way. He never sugar-coated or disguised his intentions, and the method in which he cared for your wounds was certainly gentle. Get a grip, (Y/N)! You scolded yourself. This is your captor, not your secret lover.
Eat, then dress. He motioned with one long arm to a pile of clothes he had laid out on a nearby velvet-lined chair. Do you need assistance in dressing yourself?
Err...no. No, definitely not, you thought back. If it was possible to mentally blush, you had just succeeded in doing so as well as causing a red hue to tinge your cheeks. Slender had seen your bare chest already, but somehow the thought of his hands helping you into your clothes seemed far more intimate and embarrassing, not to mention creepy.
YOU ARE READING
A Slenderella Story (Slenderman x reader)
Romance(Y/N) is an accomplished actress on Broadway, and has fallen in love with one of her fellow actors. But once a fire destroys the life she once knew, how will Y/N cope? What will happen once she disappears into the forest?
