How are you possible? Slenderman x reader

Final Visit (but Not the Last of Them)

It has been a month, and (y/n) hasn't failed to visit the forest at least once a week, nearly every day, and Slenderman has become visibly washed up as soon as he comes back to the mansion. This time, though, he came back to the mansion only to find everyone gathered and ready for answers.

Before Jeff could say anything, "No" Slenderman answered.

"You better tell us what's going on, it's getting annoying now," Jeff said, ignoring his response.

And after the creepypasta's spent an unimaginable amount of time trying to get Slender to talk, they finally got their answer. Now, it was decided that the proxy's would handle her next visit.

This was the wrong choice.

(Timeskip)

(Readers POV)

I decided to go back to the forest. I'm scared, obviously. I can't bear the thought of me going back here but it's my punishment for going out of bounds. I really have to learn to appreciate what I have, I shouldn't have been so clearly excited to finally hear that grandma was dead. I'm the one who's supposed to be sympathetic and Lin is supposed to be logical. Grandma wasn't a bad person, though I just thought it was her time to go for a while now. Mom's upset. I haven't seen her in a while. Well, at least the funeral isn't until a few weeks later now...

I thought this as I slowly got off of my new Vespa. Motorcycles made too much noise anyway. Lin was happy to have it, she loves them. Anna doesn't know how to drive.

Anna. I hope she's doing good in Finland... she's always been such a kind soul. She hated the fact that I needed anti-depressants and that I couldn't be happy on my own. I feel guilty for lying to her about going here again. Over and over. I think she knew that I was lying. I think she wanted to believe that I was just going out and partying. Yeah right, I sure ain't light-hearted but those nightclubs are too much noise and too many smells to bear. I either look like some sort of butch lesbian or a pussy ordering a simple beer. I prefer it over many drinks.

Lots of these thoughts crammed my head to distract me from the awaiting doom and monsters that seemed to already be clawing at my stomach. This has become almost a tradition, so much so that it's gotten easier for me to block out my "getting ready for the ride" stomach pains, like getting ready to get on the roller coaster. Except instead of having to bear standing in the long anaconda lines with plenty of time to deliberate my impending doom, I get to rush in.

It's almost as if I'm sinking when I run into the forest. The air is suffocating, and it becomes darker the deeper I go. It's the only way to go if I want to get out. Deeper and deeper. And deeper... into the ocean's abyss.

Huh. Usually, he comes faster. He hasn't even established his presence in the forest and I already have 4 little drawings. I wonder who draws them. He couldn't have drawn something so childish when he seems quite sentient and able to function judging by his suit. These drawings look like the works of a little girl. I smiled at the thought. Could he be raising a child?

I let out a laugh, who am I kidding? He probably eats any child he can get his hands on. Oh, wait. I shouldn't make so much noise. I always try to giggle the fear away. Laughter is the greatest cure to sorrow... it provides a mask or better yet a delusion that just might help you transition into a better more stable state. I think it's better to cry it out at home though. Gotta let those emotions out at some point, crying is a very cleansing form of doing so.

5..

I kind of want to cry now actually. I haven't cried here before. I've wanted to, but I wouldn't dear. It's not like I'm sad or scared... well I am but not enough to cry about it! It's sort of a mixture of excitement and fear.