“I'm never camping with my friends again,” you mutter venomously. “They're the ones who believe in this stupid legend, not me.”
You're silently stalking through the woods alone, having separated from your two best friends about ten minutes back. Legends of a man-hunter have lurked in these local woods for centuries, and your friends decided to drag you along to help them investigate the mystery. There's a break in the dense trees, and you find a small clearing with an old, rusty abandoned car. Your tired legs carry you over to the car, as if they had a mind of their own.
“This seems like a safe enough place to rest.” you whisper to yourself. The legend isn't real, but still, these woods in the middle of the night are creepy. You're exhausted, as you've been walking since it got dark. As soon as you lay back against the rickety hood of the car, you hear a chorus of screams.
“HELP! HELP!!” Those voices sound familiar, and then it hits you like a ton of bricks. Your best friends are calling for help. They need you. A chill washes over you, and you decide resting is no longer your top priority. You're about to take of sprinting again, until you see a piece of paper stapled to a tree. Upon further inspection, you see it's a crude drawing of a tall man with white skin and no face. Around him are the words, “Has no eyes, always watches.”
This sends an involuntary volley of chills through your body, your spine vibrating under your skin. You snatch the paper off the tree, trying to ignore the screams still ricocheting through the trees. As soon as the paper leaves the tree, the screams are cut off, replaced by the sound of faint static. Your only light source, the bobbing glow of your flashlight, suddenly flickers and goes out.
“Hello?!” you shout blindly into the darkness. “This better not be a prank, or I'll-I'll KILL you two!”
Even though that was an empty threat, you love your friends to pieces, you still just know, this isn't a prank. Fearing the worst, you decide to abandon any hope of finding them, with no light and now no voices to guide you. Instead, you decide to travel on, if you find them, you can check up on them.
It;s the middle of an autumn night, and you're walking through the woods without a flashlight, alone. A sitting duck for whatever is lurking in these woods.
“I'm such a moron for agreeing to this...”
The wind whistles through the leaves, a symphony of sounds sending you into a panic.
SNAP! You hear a stick break, and your head whips around, trying to find the source of the sound. Ignoring the pain in your neck, you still peer into the emptiness. A cold flush crosses through your body, and it's that all too familiar feeling of being watched. It makes your skin crawl, like a solid stare was burning a hole in your back.
“Oh, come off it, you're being an idiot.” you breathe viciously to yourself. Your whip around again, but see nothing but pitch darkness and tree trunks. Heart racing, you continue on your way. Eventually you come across a large concrete tunnel, and curiosity kicks in, compelling you to enter. Running your hands along the smooth walls, you touch what you recognize as another paper. A sliver of moonlight illuminates the ghastly image. It's a picture of the same man, but this time the word “NO” surrounding him. Again, you grab the paper and stash it in your pack. Again, the sound of static appears as you tear the paper off the wall. You have no clue what any of this means, but you'll get to the bottom of it.
You feel like you're being watched again, and ever so slowly, you turn around. There's something at the end of the tunnel. A figure. Very tall. Long limbs. NO FACE.
Time stands still, It's as if you're rooted to the spot. You can't breathe, can't look away. All you can do is try not to look at its unreadable sheet-white face. Suddenly, all feeling returns to your numb body, and you break away from its unfathomable stare. Turning, you sprint out of your end of the tunnel, pure adrenaline and fear preventing you from slowing down.
After what seems like hours, you come across and old brick restroom building. Before you can even take a breath, your shaking legs send you flying through the doors. Panting, you take a minute to collect your wits, recalling what you saw. The figure was at least nine feet tall, with super long, grotesque arms, and a blank white face. No eyes, nose, hair, ears, and a faint line that could have been a mouth.
“This must be the legend, what they were talking about, what got my friends...” you murmur, “It was real all along.
Slowly, you get up, having slid to the unkempt floor, head between your knees. Time to investigate your shelter. Taking small, careful steps, you travel through the surprisingly large corridor. Again, the sound of static fills your ears, this time deafening. Fear driven, you glance up. Out the small, dirty window, you see two figures, clearly dead, hanging from the trees. A wave of nausea washes over you, and you turn around, ready to throw up. As you turn the corner, you're suddenly face to face with HIM. All goes black.
Gasping, I wake up from that horrible nightmare. I'm covered in an ice cold sweat, short on breath, and common sense. I know for a fact that what I just experienced was real, my sleep-muddled brain convincing me so.
“No more playing Slender before bed.” I mutter to myself, even though that's unlikely to happen.
I lay back, pulling my duvet up to my chin, tucking my feet up underneath me. My bedroom is pitch black, and I turn to look at my clock. The red fluorescent numbers read 2:00 am. Ugh. Now I'll never return to sleep.
Glancing around my room, my eyes come to rest on my door. My cat Amber is trying to push it open again. Eventually the door gives in, allowing her access. The hinges have been broken ever since that run in with my big brother. She waltzes in, and her steady gaze locks on my closet.
The door of my closet is shaking again, with nothing touching it. Despite the horrible paranoia, I roll over and close my eyes. The nightmare had me wiped. Just before my lashes flutter closed, I see a white blur flash across the room. Now they've got my attention. Eyes wide open I give my room another once-over. The door has stopped shaking for the moment, and my eyes rest on the open door. I see a figure in the hallway, partially illuminated by the bathroom night-light. Just watching me. Memorizing me.
Deciding to ignore the strong, pulsating fear, I yank the covers over my eyes, and fall into a fitful sleep.
“If I'm meant to be brave, my personal demons are setting me up to fail.” I whisper softly.
The feeling of being watched never leaves, and now that figure haunts me every time I close my eyes.
