Slender | Teen Ink

Slender

June 4, 2013
By The_Doctor GOLD, Canon City, Colorado
More by this author
The_Doctor GOLD, Canon City, Colorado
17 articles 0 photos 3 comments

Favorite Quote:
“Because while the truncheon may be used in lieu of conversation, words will always retain their power. Words offer the means to meaning, and for those who will listen, the enunciation of truth. And the truth is, there is something terribly wrong with this country, isn't there? Cruelty and injustice, intolerance and oppression. And where once you had the freedom to object, to think and speak as you saw fit, you now have censors and systems of surveillance coercing your conformity and soliciting your submission. How did this happen? Who's to blame? Well certainly there are those more responsible than others, and they will be held accountable, but again truth be told, if you're looking for the guilty, you need only look into a mirror. I know why you did it. I know you were afraid. Who wouldn't be? War, terror, disease. There were a myriad of problems which conspired to corrupt your reason and rob you of your common sense. ”


Author's note: I wrote this mostly from a place of imagination and sleep deprivation. Though, I wanted to base it off of Slender-man, the popular monstrous icon people seem to like both the video game and simply Slender alone. So, I hope you enjoy, as I enjoyed writing it.

The author's comments:
This chapter is in the perspective of Steven.

Static ran over the television loudly as Steven woke himself up with a loud, grunt snore. It was that type of snore where the person looks at you and blames you for making the noise and waking them up. Drool was dried to his chin, and his eyes were glazed from being tired and sleep-deprived. He picked up his cell phone that was on the arm of the couch and unlocked it. It was only two-thirty in the morning; he had another good four hours of sleep in him. He yawned rather loudly and looked around for the remote to turn the TV off. The lights were out, and the only light in the room was emanating from the television. He grunted and gave up in his search for it. He just manually went up to the television and turned it off, turning the room dead black. He fell asleep on the couch after picking his younger brother up from school, then completing a short story assignment. He passed out at around seven-thirty, so he didn’t get to say goodnight to Jason. He shakily stood and stretched, cracking and popping all the vertebrae in his spine. He sniffed his T-shirt, smelling the cologne he doused it in this morning, and his nose wrinkled. He quickly shed it and threw it in the hamper at the end of the hallway that led to his room. He walked to the door just before the hamper and opened it quietly. He peeked around it to see Jason curled up in a blanket and him holding his stuffed owl. He was sound asleep. Steven smiled and tip-toed in, and he turned on Jason’s portable heater. He laid his head on his pillow more comfortably and kissed his cheek. As he whispered ‘goodnight’ to his brother, a knock was heard at the front door. With a sigh, Steven shuffled out of the room and out to the foyer, passed the television, and looked through the peep-hole of the front door. It was another news reporter with the same cocky-as-sin hat on that said “PRESS” on a card in the flap of it. Steven growled and unlatched one of the locks. He kept the chain lock on and opened the door a crack.



“I told you reporter types to stay away from here. I don’t need you harassing what’s left of my family, so scram.”



As he began to close the door, the reporter jammed their foot in the door. He blinked in surprise and narrowed his eyes at them. Getting a further look at them, the reporter was a girl. His angry expression started to fade, but he kicked her foot out of the way.



“Please wait! I’m getting information about the latest kidnapping in---“ she didn’t get to finish, and the door was slammed in her face. She sighed and walked back down the porch steps toward the road.



Watching her leave carefully, he fully secured and locked the door once more. He finally was able to go to his room in peace to get some decent sleep. He walked into his room and closed the door behind him. A light wasn’t even turned on; he just plopped into his bed and grunted. Thoughts swirled through his head as he thought about that reporter, his anger beginning to die away. His thoughts stormed with memories about those two years ago, when everything in his life began to go downhill. He curled up, his hand searching for a proper quilt to use. He firmly grasped one and pulled it around himself. He had to sleep everything off and wake up the next morning, without being in a funk.



If there was another kidnapping, it would be the sixth. I hope that girl was just out of her mind… he thought to himself as he drifted off into sleep.

The author's comments:
This chapter is in Derek's perspective.

The lobby of the police station was vacant, but beyond the secretary’s desk was the main source of the action. There were desks lined up in six rows, each with at least two officers standing by them with either a phone or a walkie-talkie. The phones were ringing continuously and loudly, to the point where Derek grunted and slid lower in his chair with his jacket covering his ears, similar to an impatient child in a doctor’s office. The secretary, who looked to be a timid old woman, glanced over at him. She picked up the phone to talk to somebody, Derek didn’t want to overhear. He stood up and walked around the lobby, which began growing tiresome and boring. He pulled out a clipboard that was filled with information on the situation at hand. He flipped through the papers until he got to the victim’s profile photo. The victim looked to be about seven years of age. Short arms, wore a baggy shirt with sweatpants, a very large set of glasses rested on the bridge of his nose. He had scruffy, yet adorably fashioned black hair that covered his eyebrows. Derek smiled slightly at the boy’s photo, whose name was “Todd Summers”. He continued to page through the papers to find another photo. This one was only added when he walked into this lobby just an hour earlier. The scene of the crime, which was in another town forty miles north of this one. He winced at the sight of the picture and quickly covered it back up with another piece of paper. He put the clipboard away altogether when he heard the sound of high heels clicking over to his direction. He looked up to see a very attractive female holding a binder. She was wearing black and sleek high heel shoes with a black skirt. Her top was purple with splashes of turquoise. Her ‘ahem’ snapped Derek out of his little trance and he stood tall.



“Err, yes, I’m here for detective Sherri.” He stuttered at her.



“He’s ready for you in his office, Mr. Waters. This way please.” She explained.



She turned and began walking by the rows of desks, greeting the officers as she walked past. Her hair was perfect; it was swinging back and forth like a non-stop brunette pendulum. Derek’s eyes just watched it move so gracefully and had to shake his head to stop looking at it. She came to a sudden stop in front of an office door with a bronze plaque above the door-frame. He almost ran into her as she stopped. She looked at him a bit irritably and made a gesture for him to go in. He turned the knob and went into a very dimly lit office. He was pushed in by the girl and was forced to sit in a chair across from a desk. The girl tossed her binder into a drawer and sat on a filing cabinet.



“Sir, the guy you wanted is here for you. He’s a bit of an asshole if I say so myself.” She crossed her arms and smirked.



The chair behind the desk turned to face Derek. In it was a skinny balding man with a large mustache. He was smiling like a kid holding a new box of Lego's.



“Waters, kind lad! Good of you to have an agent of the FBI join our case. It’s greatly appreciated.” He exclaimed with a British accent.



Derek blinked in surprise, “Is that what you were told? I’m just part of their psychology ward. Ya’ know, crazy people? I came out to take a look into this case with the hopes of adding a freak to my collection.” He smirked and winked at the girl, who rolled her eyes.



“What do you know about the Slender-man?” said the girl.



Derek shook his head; he had no inkling on the name. The girl got off the cabinet and reached into her binder, taking out a thin file. She handed it to Derek, her expression now very grim. He opened the file to see three pictures and baggies with bloodied objects in them. She cleared her throat.



“The Slender-man is a creature only spoken of in myths. A tall man, albino colored skin wearing a black suit with a black tie. He is known for instilling paranoia on his victims, causing them to inhibit insomnia, frustration, and dizziness. His other power extends to technical difficulties, causing audio clips to warp themselves, video footage to fuzz, and phones to shut down. His known targets are small children, ages extending from five to twelve years old. The children are taken away by six tentacles sprouting out of his back with black ooze covering them. It is rumored that after taking them, he murders them. The question is raised to why the children get attracted to this ungodly creature. That can probably be answered to this creature’s sense of emotional deficiency. He sends off a soothing wave of neutrality that children are attracted to. But what makes this man so famous? He has no face.”



Derek looked at the girl with a frightened look on his face. He had turned pale, looking to her boss for some sort of comfort, who had also been looking uncomfortable. Looking at the file, he nodded toward them and stood up, exiting the office without a word.



He has no face.

Steven was shopping for dinner that night in the local market. There was one more hour until he had to pick Jason up from school. Walking through the bread aisle, he stopped at a package of whole wheat bread. He couldn’t stop thinking of the reporter from the previous night. If there truly had been another kidnapping, he had to keep Jason safe in the house. Ever since their parents died, Jason didn’t like staying indoors. He thought it was more dangerous inside than it was outside, which wasn’t true in the current situation. Steven picked out two loaves of whole wheat bread and put them in the shopping basket. He moved onto the fruit aisles, they had run out of apples. He reached for an apple, but touched hands with another person. Out of courtesy, he backed away from the apple.



“Oh, I’m sorry, you can have that one….” His voice trailed off as he looked at the person he had encountered.



The person was man, very tall and had a bit of a stomach, but not enough to be considered overweight. He was wearing a tan jacket with matching tan pants, with black dress shoes. He looked at the man’s face to see a fairly large, benevolent scar covering the entirety of the left half of his face. It was horrifically noticeable, and was about as alarming as a cat’s wail when its tail has been stepped on. Steven blinked once and made it seem like he wasn’t staring at the man’s face.



“Oh, don’t worry yourself young man. Everybody stares. I’m used to it by now.” He stuffed several apples into the plastic bag he ripped off the wheel above the shelf and placed them in his basket.



“I’m sorry, it just startled me—No! I mean you just startled me! I mean—not because of the face thing, the apple thing! I was just buying some fruit for my little brother…”Steven rambled on.



The man chuckled warmly. “Calm down, son. I may be a PI, but I won’t arrest you for being alarmed by my blemish.”



“PI? You mean…Private Investigator?”



“Yes, son. That’s what PI stands for. I’m in town for an extended period of time on an assignment…” his expression changed.



Steven didn’t ask further questions. He picked out some apples and oranges from the shelves and proceeded to walk down the aisles. As he walked away, he heard the man again.



“Say there, young man….”



Steven stopped in his tracks.



“You’re the boy from the news report several years back. The incident with the car crash that ended in a bloody tragedy. Both of your parents were killed, weren’t they? Your mother’s neck twisted 180 degrees around and your father ripped in half from the force of the accident. You were left with a broken femur and your brother was left with brain damage.”



“Who the hell….?” He glanced behind him, dead white.



“He doesn’t talk much, does he? Not only is he mute for life, but he will always remember the screaming. The screaming caused by a drunk driver in the middle of a terrible thunderstorm. If only you hadn’t left for Grandmother’s that morning. You would have a full family.”



“NOW WHO THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU ARE?!” Steven turned with a furious expression, eyes wet with the upcoming of tears.



The man was gone.

“Mommy, I don’t want to go to Gramma’s today! Dragon Ball is on!” Steven pouted as his mother fluffed his hair.



“Now sweetie, Gramma would appreciate it if she saw you at the funeral today… She would like it very much.”



“What’s a funeral?”



“……Get in the car, sweetie……”



Steven tromped through the living room to see Jason playing with his Lego's. He pouted angrily and kicked some of them into the wall. Jason picked them up and started playing with them again.



“Steven Arthur Kalling! Get to the car this instant!” his mother shouted at him.



Steven ran out the front door into the pouring rain and slid into the back seat of the car. His dad was reading the paper in the passenger’s seat in front of him and was humming to himself. He lowered the paper and turned around to look at Steven.



“What’s the matter, sport? Not ready to take on the day?” he fixed his glasses.



“Mommy won’t let me watch TV, but she lets Jason play with his stupid Lego's all day. It isn’t fair!” he continued to pout.



His dad sighed and folded up the paper. He patted Steven’s knee for support and started looking through the glove compartment. Steven sniffled, wiping his face so he wouldn’t look like a baby, and his dad grunted. He looked up to see his dad holding a stuffed bear.



Steven gasped, “It’s Paku, the ultimate fighting bear!” he reached out for it.



Handing his son’s bear to him, he added “Not only is he strong, his brain is a super computer!”



“……Just like daddy, right..?” He looked at his dad’s face.



He nodded and smiled at his son. The other car doors opened with Jason crawling into the car with his fake jet-pack on and his mother applying lipstick and almost hitting her head when ducking into the driver’s seat. The car wasn’t very large; it was small and low to the ground. Jason looked like a turtle, he was wrapped up in a scarf and sweatshirt and his hood was up. He yawned and bit the seat-belt. It was always a bad habit for him, even with how old he was. Steven held his bear close to him as his mother started the car. His dad rested his head on his hand and they pulled out of the driveway, windshield wipers working viciously. The rain was coming down hard, it sounded like a train. He was hardly paying attention to his parents in the front of the car.



“Why they keep the funeral scheduled for today, I have no idea. I mean really, look at this weather! I can hardly see a foot in front of me.” His mother ranted quietly.



“Darling, relax. We’ll be fine.” His dad soothed.



Ten minutes later, the car started swerving. Steven whimpered and clutched the bear tighter. He heard his dad start to worry now, which wasn’t good for his mother.



“Darling, those lights are more on our side than his…”



“I’ll move over more.”



The car moved farther to the edge of their side of the road. Steven saw his mother’s hands start to shake. She always seemed nervous when she drove, but now it was frightening him.



“We can’t go any more to the side, he’s getting close! Is he yanking us over?!” his dad said loudly.



That exclamation was followed by the screeching of tires and a lurch to the right. There was a high pitched scream coming from the driver’s seat and a wailing coming from Jason. His father was gripping his mother’s arm as the headlights of a box truck rammed into the side of their car. Jason was whipped to the side and Steven’s leg suddenly felt lit on fire. His head hit a hard surface and he lost consciousness.





There was a robotic wailing screeching through Steven’s ears when he opened his eyes. He was lying on his back in the rear seat of the car, where he’d just been sitting. He was positioned at an odd angle, his leg pressed against Jason’s seat. He started crying because his head hurt and when he tried sitting up properly, his leg made a “QUELCH” sound. He screamed and looked at his thigh. There was a white and yellow tinted object poking through the skin of his leg. Not knowing what it was, he gently moved himself so he could sit up. He couldn’t see very well and looked toward the driver’s seat.



“Mommy….? What happened…?”



His vision cleared slightly. He saw his mother’s face looking at him, with an extremely frightened expression. Her eyes were wide open and her mouth was as well.



“Mommy, I’m okay, you don’t have to be scared—“ he stopped as her head tilted to the side unnaturally.



“M…..M….Mommy….?” he started shivering.



He tried crawling onto the middle console between the two seats in the front to get a closer look. He rubbed his eyes again. When he opened them, his mother’s head was backwards. He screamed and started gagging.



“DADDY, DADDY! THERE’S SOMETHING WRONG WITH MOMMY! DADDY—“ as he turned to look at the passenger’s seat, he wailed even louder.



His father was ripped in half, his face the same as his mother’s. Steven wailed endlessly and pushed himself back into the rear seat. He couldn’t stop wailing until he thought of something.



“JASON! JASON, WHERE ARE YOU?!” he looked through the car, seeing Jason’s jet-pack stuck to the broken open car door.



Steven forced himself out of the broken door and dragged himself onto the road. He looked for his little brother while sobbing, his nose continuously running. He saw Jason’s crumpled body next to a tree, almost as if he was sleeping. He wailed louder and crawled painfully over to him. He sat up against the tree and held Jason close to him.



“Jason….? Jason, not you too, I can’t lose everybody, not now, no, no, no, no, no..!” he was crying as hard as ever now.



There was a tug on his chin and Steven looked down at his brother. Jason’s head was bloody, that much was obvious, but he was also looking at something behind them. He pointed to behind Steven and he turned around. There was an ambulance coming.



“You want….you…you want me to call out..?”



Jason nodded and gave a small smile.



Steven screamed as loud as he could so he could save his little brother’s life.

The author's comments:
This chapter is in the perspective of Scott.

Walking down the sidewalk, Scott Shelby swung his grocery bag in a circle. He whistled “Devil Went Down To Georgia” as he passed the middle school that was just dismissing. He slowed his pace a little and examined all the children. None of them seemed to have close ties to the recent kidnap victim, until he laid eyes on one boy sitting on the curb. He walked over to him and got an apple out of his grocery bag. As he approached the boy, the boy looked up and didn’t react. His face was emotionless and looked as if he didn’t give a care in the world. Scott took out a pen and notepad as he handed the boy the apple.



“Hello, son.” He cheerfully asked the boy.



He was given no response and the boy took the apple. He stared at it for a long time before setting it on the ground next to him.



“I need to ask you a few questions, young man. Is that fine with you?” he knelt down so he was at eye level with him.



Once again, he received no response. The boy just looked at him.



“I know that Little Todd came to this school with you. How much older were you than him?”



The boy held up three fingers.



“Oh! So you’re in sixth grade then? He must have been close to you. If you’re wondering why I’m here, I’m somebody very important who’s going to help everybody. Are you uncomfortable?”



The boy looked at the ground, as if pondering how to answer. He looked steadily ahead again and pointed to Scott’s face.



“Ignore my face, son. Now tell me about Todd. Where was the last time you saw Todd?” his tone turned harsher now.



The boy’s eyes narrowed slightly as he pointed to an area behind Scott. He nodded his head and looked at the boy straight in the eyes again.



“Why did Todd go to the woods?”



The boy stood up and walked past him, not caring to answer his question or even give a gesture. He walked to a ‘car pick-up’ line and didn’t look back over at him. Eyes narrowed, Scott stood up straight and took another apple out of his grocery bag. He took a large bite into it as he glanced over to the school building. Swallowing, he walked over to the main doors and looked through the glass to see two women having a discussion, one looked younger in age and the other looked taller and more sophisticated. Oddly, the more sophisticated female was a reporter. Scott saw her look through the doors at him and he stepped aside from view, behind the wall of the school and out of sight from the doors. He looked straight ahead at the woods sitting across from the building. The woods, from here, looked dark and frightening. The oaks were tall and the grass looked wrangled and in-orderly . Lost in his train of thought, he was interrupted by the sound of two heavy doors opening and he glanced to the side. The reporter was glaring at him, she had her “PRESS” hat tilted over her eyes, as if to look more menacing than she actually was. Scott chuckled and stuck out his hand.



“Scott Shelby, Private Investigator. You are?”



The girl took his hand and shook it, “Janelle Winters. Pleasured to make your acquaintance. What brings a forty year old man to a middle school? I dare not suspect pedophilia.”



He jumped at that accusation. “Absolutely not! I came to investigate the kidnapper case. Privately of course.”



“As your title suggests… And find a new investigation. This is my case. I may only be a journalist, but I got this woman tapped out. She wouldn’t dare want to repeat the story again, not even to someone who has a higher respect in the field.” She smirked cockily at him.



She strutted away as she tucked her binder and folder into her large bag. How women could lug such large purses around, Scott had no idea. He stopped the door before it could close completely by quickly jamming his foot in front of it. He set his grocery bag next to the wall and walked into the building, letting the door slam shut behind him. He walked slowly yet casually down the hallway, passing small trophy cases and small sized lockers. He took his notepad back out, he had slid it in his pocket after the boy left him, and looked at a previous page. The room he was looking for was on the top floor. He put his notepad back in his pocket and finished what was last of the apple. Finding no trash can, he threw it out an open window that was in one of the rooms. He found the stairs that meant to take him further and walked up silently. He slid both hands into his jacket pockets and heard the faint sound of crying that was getting closer and closer with every step he took. He looked around on the walls to see finger paintings and children’s reports hanging to be shown off to everybody. The one that stood out most to him was a well painted image of a family. He stopped and looked at it for a few moments, still ignoring the sound of crying. The image consisted of three males and a female standing outside a very large house. Their car was small in the driveway and they were all smiling. He searched for a name on the paper, or perhaps below it, until he saw a cursive-written scrawl in the bottom left corner of the page. He walked up to it to get a better look. The name read “Jason Kalling”.



“Jason’s a beautiful soul, I hope you understand that. He doesn’t know a thing, Mr. Detective.” Came a feminine voice.



Scott whipped his head to the right in surprise to see a crying woman, probably only in her mid-twenties. She had long dark hair and was very, very short. He cleared his throat and walked over to her, hand outstretched.



“I’m sorry to appear to be snooping, my name is—”



“Scott Shelby. I know who you are. I saw you talking to Jason from the window at the end of the hallway.” she pointed to a window at the end of the hall, which most likely was visible to the entire school grounds.



“I was merely asking the boy for information about the kidnapping case dealing with Todd—”



“I know why you’re here!” she shouted at him. She cleared her throat and began politely talking again, seeming to be calmer. “That’s what everybody wants to know when they visit. You see, I teach mixed grades. I’m an English teacher for grades three through sixth. The seventh and eighth grades learn down stairs, with different teachers. I knew Todd; he was a beautiful little boy… I can’t imagine what kind of monster would want to kidnap somebody so innocent…”



“That’s what I’m here for, ma’am. Now if we could have this discussion, you’ll be doing the police a great service.” He got out his notepad again.



The woman guided him to her classroom and they both walked in. She closed the door and walked to a desk to sit down in. If this wasn’t school hours, Scott wouldn’t have been able to detect a difference between her and an ordinary little girl. She wiped her eyes and got a small packet of tissues out of her pocket and blew her nose with one. Scott looked at her insistently so he could get this interview going.



“On Monday, Todd was escorted out to the bus line as usual. He lived a usual distance away from here, about twenty minutes. Anyway, I escorted him to the line and someone tugged on the back of my shirt. It was another third grader who needed my help zipping up her jacket. When I was finished with that, I turned around to see that Todd was no longer in line. I looked everywhere and I couldn’t see him anywhere… I asked the boy who had been standing in front of him, and he said he didn’t see him at all. I felt a tap on my shoulder and I turned, expecting it to be another third grader, but it was Jason. I told him to wait for his big brother in the car pick up line, but he pointed in the direction of the woods. I looked to where he was pointing to see a flash of Todd’s shirt slip into the darkness of the trees. I called out to some teachers so we could go after him…”



“Pardon me for interrupting, but how did Todd manage to get across a mile long field in less than three minutes?” Scott raised his eyebrow.



“We don’t know that either, Mr. Shelby…” she responded with her head down.



Scott wrote down short scrawls on his notepad page and looked at her again. “Anything else?”



She looked at the desk and thought for a while, and then she shook her head. Scott sighed and closed the notepad.



“Thank you for your time, miss….?”



“DeLong. Erin DeLong.”



“Well, Erin, it was a pleasure to have spoken to you. Thank you very much.” He walked out of the classroom and walked back down the stairs.



He chuckled when passing the name.

The author's comments:
This chapter is in the perspective of Janelle.

Driving through the crowded streets, Janelle had her cellphone perched between her right shoulder and right ear. She was listening to an excessive dial tone as she honked her horn at the mindless drivers holding up traffic. The station was on the west side of town and she had to drive through a highway exit in order to get there. After five attempts to reach the other line, someone picked up.



“This better be good, Winters.” Snarled a low growl on the other end.



“I’ve got a good lead I think; I’m headed to the station now to examine the body and time of death. You need anything while I’m out, sir?” she rambled while honking again.



“No, no, I’m fine. And good job on the lead, Winters. We’ll need that in order to get anywhere. All you need to do is get back here with the cold facts. Sherri out.”



He hung up on her. She sighed and finally got out of the swarm of traffic. Two miles away from the station, she saw a figure standing in the road ahead of her. It was tall with a black suit, just standing in the road. Janelle gasped and took a hard right, almost swerving into the figure. The hard right she took made her go a different direction around the normal way to the station. She adjusted all of her mirrors on the fly and continued looking behind her. There was no sign of the figure behind her, but when she looked back in front of her, it was there. She screamed and swerved again, almost ramming the wall of a building. Gaining control of the car, she turned into the parking lot of the police station and scrambled out of her car. She slammed the door behind her and shakily ran inside the station. Once she was inside, she flashed her badge to the guard at the front desk. She said she was there for a body and evidence check, and the guards led her to a location down the hall. Waiting for her was a clip board, a face mask, and a tub of Vaseline. She took all the items and proceeded into a door that was constructed of iron with a tiny bulletproof window. Inside, the room was dim and there were two people standing around an examination table. She put her face mask on and what looked to be the doctor turned around to face her.



“I assume you’re Miss Winters.” He guessed in a low, monotone voice.



She nodded and looked at the other person with their head down. She raised an eyebrow as she walked over to join them at the table. The doctor cleared his throat as he gestured to the table. There was a body bag on the table, and the doctor put his fingers on the zipper, ready to open it.



“Apply the Vaseline underneath your nasal cavities, the stench is horrid.” He advised, mostly in Janelle’s direction.



She and the other person there applied the Vaseline under their noses. The doctor nodded and dramatically unzipped the bag. A wave of rotting flesh wafted across Janelle’s nose, and it took her a lot of strength to not start gagging. The person on the other end of the table took a recorder out of his pocket and let it start rolling.



“The victim is a nine year old boy, dark hair with a slightly pudgy face. Lacerations streaming down the victim’s upper right side, there appears to have been a struggle. What looks to be sludge is rounding the corners of his eyes and mouth, most likely caused by oil or some other material. His teeth are stained along the back molars and down to the back of the throat; it appears he had been choked with something.” He nodded towards the doctor, who flipped the boy over.



Janelle winced at the sight of the boy, she forced herself not to cry at the sight of such an innocent life taken. The one with the recorder hesitated before continuing.



“The deltoid quadrant has been pierced by a sharp object; the wound goes through one artery but does not puncture through to the other side. On the tailbone, there is a lilac colored imprinting that is in the shape of a tortoise. Scratches line the victim’s triceps, it appears he was dragged from Point A to Point B. Hair in the back has been ripped out as some sort of prize.” He finished.



Janelle kept staring at the tortoise mark on the boy’s tailbone. It was hardly even an imprint; it was more of an engraving.



“Can we get a sample of what that engraving is inked out of?” she questioned out of curiosity.



The doctor nodded and looked at the person putting the recorder away. He zipped up the bag and took it off the table. He walked out, leaving Janelle and the stranger alone in the room. She took her face mask off and rubbed the Vaseline out from under her nose. She looked to the other person and blinked in surprise.



“Derek?”



With his mask now off, Derek looked to Janelle and blinked once. “Yea. Hi there.”



“Why are you here? I thought you’d be hunting down women at a time like this.”



He blinked in surprise. “Nooooo, I came hoping you’d be here. I have some information to share with you.”



Janelle sighed and looked at him with a blank expression. “What?”

“The kidnapper enjoys acting on the fly. He’s very good at it and always has the perfect tactic to use at the right time. The targets, them being young and more naïve than a squirrel at their ages are always lured away by an action or phrase tempting enough to get them away from authority. In this boy’s case, he was lured away with something that meant a lot to him. His body was found in the woods across a mile long field. The dragging marks on his arms and buttocks signify that he was dragged or pulled by said kidnapper in pursuit of this chosen object of value. On the tailbone, there is an engraving of a lilac tortoise. The shades of purple signify class and wealth while the tortoise signifies steady precision and wisdom. The killer is trying to tell us something, but he’s being a cocky butt-face while doing so. The victim was found fifteen hours after his alleged time of death, even after officials scanned the area twice. He was found crumpled up under a tree with a flower in his hair, his backpack he was supposedly wearing disappeared. That means, the killer must have been incognito while the police were around, totally hidden by his surroundings to the most difficult standard. The killer obviously lives in the area, otherwise he wouldn’t know where and how to track these children down. Anybody this person comes into contact with could be the next victim, within the age range or not. If they get in his way, he’ll take them out.”



Janelle listened to Derek’s spiel with widened eyes. She remembered the figure standing in the middle of the road on her way to the station. She started backing out of the room.



“Derek, how did you get here..?” she gulped.



“My hotel is down the street. Why, what’s the matter? You look pale.” He reached out to her.



His hand was taken by Janelle, who led him back down the hallway to the main doors of the building. It was sunset now, the overall light becoming dim. He was pushed into Janelle’s car and was forced to buckle up. Janelle scrambled in soon after, starting the ignition immediately. Her tires squealed as she backed out of the parking lot and into the road. She was biting her lower lip as she stepped on the gas and floored it towards the highway intersection. Derek was shaking her shoulder so she would calm down, her expression of anxiety not changing. Eventually the came to a road that was invaded with signs that said “School zone”. Derek found himself squinting out the window to see one car still parked in the parking lot.



“Get your gun out.”



“Excuse me?!”



“I didn’t stutter, Derek, get your damn gun out!” she whipped her seat-belt off as she skilfully maneuvered her car into the lot.



He opened the car door and began surveying the area. He didn’t see anything anywhere, no harmful people or objects. Janelle seemed to be the only one scared and freaking out.

”This is her car… Why is her car still here…?” she whispered to herself.



Derek walked to the two doors to see one of them cracked. He gasped and called over to Janelle, who at this point looked ready to vomit. She staggered over to the door and curses started streaming out of her mouth like a raging river. She tackled the glass, shoulder first, in attempt to break the glass. Sighing, Derek took his foot and kicked the glass as hard as he could, making a small hole that was just enough for the both of them to sneak through one at a time. Derek went first, keeping his gun at the ready, leading the way into the depths of the hallway. There was a foul odor in the air as they furthered to the staircase. There was a ‘squelch’ sound as Derek kept walking. He took a small flashlight out of his jacket and shined it on the bottom of his shoe. There was a black, oil like substance on the bottom of it, it reeking of rot. The smell was similar to what was experienced in the examination room. The stairs were covered in it, the stench diffusing into the air. Derek covered his nose with his jacket and ran cautiously up the stairs while Janelle followed him in close pursuit. They reached the upper floor and Derek pointed his flashlight at the walls. Streaks of the ooze were covering the walls, covering the papers and projects that were hung there. One in particular was free of the ooze, but it was terribly ripped apart. Janelle ran in front of Derek, headed for a certain room where the ooze led to.



“OH GOD, NO!” Janelle shouted from inside the room.



Derek ran into the room to be greeted with the same stench mixed with the strength of blood. He started coughing and Janelle turned the lights on. There was blood everywhere. The desks were covered, pools of it were on the floor, and the crumpled up body that caused it all was sitting in one of the desks.



“Oh sweet god, she’s dead!” Janelle proceeded into the fetal position in the corner and started rocking herself.



Derek felt for a pulse, “No she isn’t, she’s still breathing. Call for an ambulance!”



Janelle fumbled for a walkie-talkie in the deepest pocket on the inside of her jacket. Her hands were shaking.



“This is Winters, reporting a victim that’s dying at Shady Brooks Middle School. Send for an ambulance immediately! We need help now!”



The walkie started fuzzing “Roger that…zzzzz…troops will…zzzzz…thirty….minutes...zzzz”



The walkie completely disconnected and continued to fuzz. The lights went out and the body started shivering and coughing.



“Find…Jason…Kalling…”

“So buddy, how was school? Did Miss DeLong like your project?” he glanced back at his brother at the table to see him smiling and nodding.



Steven was making macaroni and cheese while Jason was doing his homework. While doing so, Steven enjoyed asking questions to his younger brother, despite the fact he could not answer them.



“Almost done. Just gotta’ let it simmer and we can chow down.” He took his apron off and sat across from Jason.



Jason pointed to his paper.



“You need help with number twenty?” Steven looked at the problem.



The mac n cheese continued to simmer on the stove while Steven helped his brother with his math homework. The television in the other part of the room was fuzzing on a news report regarding the most recent kidnapping. Dragon Ball was on at seven, Jason always tuned in every night, so he was getting his homework done quickly.



“Should be right about done.” He went over to the stove, turned it off, and removed the macaroni.



He put the macaroni in a dish for the both of them and set it in the middle of the table. He smiled at Jason, who was looking at the television for a long time.



“You have twenty minutes til it starts, we’re okay.” He started scooping out the macaroni into bowls.



Jason shook his head slowly, as if communicating with something. Steven’s scooping got slower and slower. He watched Jason as he continued to shake his head in the direction of the television.



“Jason…what do you see?” he put the spoons down.



Jason slowly picked up is pencil and wrote in the margin of his paper. Steven was beginning to turn pale. Jason slowly pushed the paper toward Steven, seeming as if to not draw any attention to his actions.



Steven looked down at the paper. “Call the police” was written in the margin. He looked at Jason, who couldn’t take his eyes off the television screen. Steven was reaching for the phone next to the stove when he realized that there was a window by the TV. His heart skipped a beat as he looked at the window to see a white oval, in the shape of a head. He couldn’t breathe for a moment.



“Jason…”



The figure’s hand cracked the window.



“JASON!”



The window shattered as the figure slid through the window. It was in the house. The television practically blew up and there was sludge beginning to cover the walls and carpet. Jason couldn’t and wouldn’t move, he was too scared. Steven grabbed a carving knife and threw it at the figure, which just deflected it with a tentacle. It was getting closer to Jason. Steven leaped forward, across the table, and took Jason to the floor. He picked him up, shielding his head, and tried carrying him to the safety of the front door. As he ran for the knob, he reached out to grab it. Pain escalated through his chest as he saw himself fall to the floor.



“Jason…” he wasn’t in his arms anymore.



He turned his head to see the black figure looming over him. It lifted its foot up high, ready to stomp on his face, when he saw Jason with the carving knife from earlier. Steven’s eyes widened as Jason stabbed the creature in the back, who then smacked him across the face with a tentacle, sending him flying.



“JASON—”



Blackness consumed his vision.

Janelle sped through the quiet streets of Shady Brooks Avenue, searching for the house she had visited the other night. She swerved over sidewalks and nearly ran into five fire hydrants. She started hearing the sirens about a mile away. She began swearing to herself as she screeched into the private driveway that led to the large home. There were police surrounding the house, two ambulances were parked in the grass. Leaving the motor running, Janelle ran out of her car and slammed the door. Her jacket flew off and she flung her heels off as she sprinted to the house. Police tried stopping her, but she vividly waved her badge and gained entry into the house. A seventeen year old boy was sitting against the wall by the front door, refusing aid from the medical specialists that were crowding him. He was talking to them very silently, obviously in a lot of pain. He wasn’t looking at them as if something has been ripped from his existence.



“Where is Jason Kalling?” Janelle broke their silent conversation.



The boy winced and started crying. The medical specialists jumped in astonishment at this, and they decided to give him some space. Janelle bent down in front of him and gently placed a hand on his shoulder.



“Where’s Jason…?” she repeated more softly.



“He’s gone…Jason’s gone… He was taken…he took him away…” he was holding a bleeding wound in his chest.



She stuck her hand out to a medical specialist and asked for gauze. She was handed some and asked the boy to remove his shirt. He did without any question, and Janelle wrapped up his chest with the gauze. He was forcing himself not to cry anymore, it was blatantly obvious. She took out her walkie that was now clipped to her belt.

`

“All units, search the woods outside Shady Brooks Middle School. Jason Kalling has disappeared. I repeat, he has been taken by the Slender-man. Code red. I repeat. Code. Red.” She stopped the message when she looked at the boy again. “Do you need somebody to stay with you…?”



He didn’t look at her, but he nodded and curled up. A police officer walked in, looked at them both and started yelling.



“You’re not gonna give this kid medical attention?! Winters, you’re crazy.” He walked outside again.



“Don’t worry, we’ll find your brother. Everything will be fine, I promise.”



“…I’m Steven.” He finally said.



“I’m Janelle.”



“…..He doesn’t talk, he can’t talk, how is he supposed to call for help? How is he supposed to run away?”



“We have it handled, Steven. We have a witness.”

The author's comments:
This chapter is in the perspective of Jason.

Jason rubbed his face as he sat under a tree in the dark. The man had told him to stay there and try not to escape. He looked to his left and saw a video camera, which was most likely being used to record his every move. He just stared straight ahead, at a tree, and watched a squirrel scurry around at his feet. He smiled and made little kissing noises, the sound not proper, and the squirrel came over and sniffed his hand. He started laughing, only no sound came out. It was like a dry laughter where no joy or sound was heard from it. He tried petting the squirrel, but it squeaked and bit his hand. His mouth opened wide, looking like a scream, but no yelp came out. He waved his finger, trying to shake the pain away, and started sucking on the bite wound. He shooed the squirrel away and yawned. The thought dawned on him that he might be late for school tomorrow. He pouted because he also thought of the fact that he missed Dragon Ball. He wiggled his feet, which were not encased in this black sludge, and kicked some leaves. He paused for a moment, thinking. He kicked the leaves again. He smirked and kicked a wave of leaves into the camera. With the leaves covering the lens, he stood up, even though his arms were sealed in sludge behind his back. He started running straight ahead until he felt a string break at his ankle. Gunshots fired out all around him and he ducked behind another tree, waiting the shots out until they stopped. He was shivering now, he closed his eyes and thought to himself until he got another risky idea. He stood up again and looked at the ground to find more tripwires. He found one several feet away. He traced the string back to a tree that was behind him that held a machine gun. He smiled to himself, angled his arms properly, and stomped on the string. The shots rang out, all hitting the black sludge that held his arms together. It made dent in the sludge, but his hands weren’t totally free. The best thing he could possibly do was find the school and wait there until morning. He started walking when he came across a fence. He pouted and turned, hoping to see another path that would either lead him to the school or lead him back home. He walked about three miles until he found a gap in the trees. He smiled to himself as he ran towards it. Through the gap, there was no free path to get to the school, there was a stone house covered in moss. As he could tell, there was only one light on. He gasped and backed up as he saw a shadow go over the window. The shadow then dashed in the direction of the front door. Jason ran the opposite direction, swerving around trees and jumping over rocks. He heard the footsteps getting closer, then they moved to his right. He took a hard left and ran into a tree, falling back on his backside. He tried getting up, but his hair was grabbed. He was forced to look to his left and was told to apologize for getting up and running off. Jason knew this person knew he couldn’t do such a remarkable thing like speaking. He forcefully looked at the person holding his head down and his eyes widened. The man was still in the suit from before, but something had totally changed.

`

The man had a face now.

Scott sat in the large chair at his desk holding a stack of papers. They were case files given to him by Detective Sherri in town, and many times he’s paged through them. Many things were right about these files, but the same amount of things made him look like a disgusting prick. Wearing a warped smile on his face, Scott threw the case files into the fire in the fireplace. He opened drawer in the desk and took out a box. There were items in this box, which consisted of a lilac dyed knife, the trace of tortoise, a small child’s backpack, a stuffed bear, and a small sized toy jet-pack. One by one, he threw each item into the fire. The knife bent and twisted, the lilac dye popping and fizzing. The paper tracer just fried up instantly, no harm was done there. The backpack was filled with drawings and photographs, they burned up faster than the fabric of the backpack. The jet-pack and the bear were the most fun. The jet-pack made interesting noises that shouldn't be allowed by the laws of physics. That will make good firewood for the next few days. The bear was second to last. The bear, found on the road five years ago, was the first prize he obtained for his efforts. He laughed as the bear turned black and the button eyes popped off. The last item in the box was a photograph. It was taken ten years ago, back when Scott was younger and slimmer, before he got the job as a police officer. He was standing next to a business associate of his, they worked for Apple. The man in the picture was about two inches taller than him and had glasses. Scott started laughing at the picture and threw it into the fire. He watched the man’s face burn up before his did, then he poked the photo with a fire poker.



“They took me for granted. They figured I couldn’t do anything successful, I couldn’t do anything to get myself known for.”



There was a banging coming from the door that led to his basement. He ignored it, still smiling, and went to his refrigerator. He pulled out a glass of red fluid and took the lid off. He inhaled the scent and began drinking.



“They said I was an idiot. They made a fool out of me. They didn’t think something horrible would happen to them after that factory explosion.”



He licked his lips. There was half a glass of liquid left.



“They didn’t think their children would wind up dead after that.”



He slammed the glass on the floor.



“They were wrong. I rose to something even more powerful that they couldn’t imagine.”



He grabbed a white face mask off the coat rack and pulled it over his face.



“I am the Slender-man.”

Derek was on his cellphone trying to communicate with Janelle. She wasn’t picking up and hasn’t been for the last twenty minutes. He was driving back from the station’s questioning room. Erin was well enough to speak, despite her injuries, and she gave him some piercing evidence to seal the deal with the killer. There were two suspects, one of them was slowly dying out of suspicion. Though they had solid evidence, nobody had a clue who this man was or his name, address, phone number… Erin had a coughing fit before she could reveal the name. He finally reached Janelle and she sounded tired.



“It’s about time you picked up! Get authorities to the woods, now!” he blurted into the phone.



“I sent some about an hour ago…”



Derek hung up and swerved in a dramatic U-turn. He slammed on the accelerator and headed for the direction of the Middle School. He completely ignored any traffic violations until he reached a road block. If he remembered correctly, said road block was not there three hours ago. He shut off the engine and raced out of his car, making a bee-line for the direction of the school. He could feel his walkie and his gun smacking at his stomach and legs as they whipped around from his running. He got to the school and stopped to gasp for air. He looked around and saw no cop cars surrounding the perimeter. He dashed to the wooded area and on his way, he noticed the sound of gunfire. He stopped and looked around cautiously. His gun didn’t go off and there was nobody around him. He continued to run, and as he did, he began thinking about the recent kidnapping.



This Jason’s a pretty smart kid. How do we know he hasn’t been the one sneaking around, killing his school mates? After an accident like the one he experienced, that’s a heavy load to just hide for the rest of your life. I need to get to the woods to make sure.



He called Janelle again as he ran. This time, she picked up immediately, sounding more irritable.



“What now, Derek?”



“Meet me at the woods. Pronto.” He hung up right away.



He pulled his gun out and prepared for the fight of his career. He stormed through the trees, looking for any potential killers or victims, and he stopped when he heard sirens completely go past the woods. He stopped, panting, and swore to himself. They must’ve gotten the wrong coordinates. He prepared to speak into his walkie when it started fuzzing. He screamed and threw it to the side. He took a quick left until he found a house. He ducked behind a tree to wait for suspicious activity. Thirty minutes passed with no activity. However, smoke began to rise from the chimney. He heard the snapping of twigs behind him and he turned, gun ready, only to see Janelle and another boy standing with her.



“Oh for s***’s sake, you scared me! Who’s this guy?” he sighed.



“My brother’s the kidnap victim. I have a right to be here. Let me go ahead!” the boy shouted at him.



“That’s idiotic! Keep your voice down, kid..!”



The boy dashed towards the house and Janelle tried running after him. Derek stopped her and shook his head.



“This guy’s got a death wish or somethin’?”

Steven kicked the door of the house down to find the place dark and motionless. He was kicking with anger in hopes to find Jason.



“LISTEN YOU ASSHOLE! COME OUT AND FIGHT ME ONE ON ONE! I DON’T CARE WHAT KIND OF FREAK YOU ARE! GIVE ME MY BROTHER BACK!”



There was a slow, dramatic clapping as a figure came out behind a corner. He was smirking fiendishly and sadistically. Steven was taken aback and lost his focus for a moment.



“You….you’re the guy from the market…”



“Pleasure to see you again, Steven. I’m surprised you didn’t die from me puncturing your chest cavity. But it seems to have affected you quite a bit if I say so myself.” He chuckled.



Steven, without thinking, ran up to this cold-heart maniac in an attempt to tackle him. He only stepped out of the way and chuckled more in amusement.



“Your family is full of fighters, I’m pleasantly surprised.” There was a thumping coming behind the door as he spoke.



Steven regained his balance and stared at the door, then back at the man.



“What’s wrong? Is Steven going to get mad at little old Scott?” Scott put on a puppy dog face.



“Shut up!” he ran at Scott again.



This time, instead of going in for a full on tackle, he ran towards the door. If his brother was behind that door, he could get him out and get out of all this mess. He was grabbed by his midsection and thrown into a kitchen cabinet. He coughed up some blood and looked up. Scott was holding the burnt remains of a jet-pack and a bear that didn’t burn properly. Steven widened his eyes at both objects, fighting hard enough to keep back both rage and tears. At the same time in different emotions, the both of them stated,



“Paku, the ultimate fighting bear…”



Steven threw himself at Scott, this time being successful in knocking him down. Scott hit his head on the floor and Steven tripped over him while making another run for the door. He fumbled with the doorknob, knocking on the door in response to the loud thumps.



“JASON! I’M GONNA GET YOU OUT OF THERE!”



An incredible force knocked him to the side before he could begin his attempt to unlock the door. He looked up to see Scott, that sadistic smile on his face again.



“You all had that look in the car, too… Before you saw your parent’s lives taken in front of you because of an overwhelming box truck.”



“How do you..?!!”



“How do I know? You stupid piece of crap, how do you think I know what happened? I was the driver behind the wheel of that truck. I’m the one who killed your parents. They were on their way to a funeral and they DIED.”



Steven fought to hold back the tears as he screamed and kicked Scott’s legs out from underneath him. He buckled to the floor, only to grab a bloody piece of glass from his earlier drinking. He swiped Steven’s face with it and Steven leaped backwards. He was in a frog position as Scott punched him, glass in hand, so Steven was on the floor under him.



“DO YOU KNOW HOW MY FACE GOT TO LOOK LIKE THIS?! YOUR FATHER! THERE WAS A FACTORY EXPLOSION IN TAMPA AND HE REFUSED TO RESCUE ME! I WAS TRAPPED UNDERNEATH A CONVEYER BELT THAT HAD BROKEN AND MY FACE HAS BEEN PERMANENTLY SCARRED FROM THE FLAMES! MY WIFE LEFT ME, I LOST MY JOB! SO DO YOU KNOW WHAT I DID? I BECAME A POLICE OFFICER. I HELPED CHILDREN CROSS THE STREET. THOSE CHILDREN BELONGED TO THE SHITTY PEOPLE THAT LEFT ME FOR DEAD TO SAVE THEMSELVES AND THEIR MONEY! NOW I’M GOING TO FINISH THIS, STEVEN KALLING! I’M GOING TO KILL YOU AND THAT LITTLE SCUMBAG BROTHER OF YOURS! LIKE WHAT SHOULD’VE HAPPENED ON THAT RAINY DAY FIVE YEARS AGO!” (man vs man)



Scott rose his hand to stab Steven in the face, but there was a gunshot. Scott gasped, and his hand dropped the glass and moved to the hole that was now between his eyes. He fell against the wall and lied there motionless. Steven threw up and backed away from the body. He looked up to see Janelle holding the gun, her hands violently shaking. Derek was holding a lock pick and proceeded to unlock the door that led to the basement. In shock, Steven had a hard time getting himself up. When the door was finally unlocked, Jason came charging out of it and tripped onto the floor. He blinked in surprise and looked around. Steven felt tears flow down his face as he looked at his brother. There were bruises and wounds all over him. Steven began repeating his brother’s name over and over again and he hugged him until he heard his brother cry.



“It’s okay now…we’re all gonna be okay…” he tried soothing his brother.



“Big Brother…” Jason whimpered into his brother’s shoulder.

The author's comments:
This is the last chapter of 'Slender' it is in the form of a report, quickly going over what had happened with Scott and everything.

“In turn of recent events, the murder of vicious killer and kidnapper Scott Shelby, the explanation of his terms will be given rightfully. Scott Shelby was orphaned when he was only ten years old. He lived his life in foster homes until he got a scholarship to the college close to here for future police officers. Graduating with full honors, he moved on to become a technician at the Apple Corporation. He worked there for three years, creating close ties with a majority of the workers there. In July of 2003, there was a factory explosion in Tampa, leaving his face permanently scarred. His wife left him. He became a police officer at the local police station, being a known hero for small occasions in the past. He then went rogue, taking on his own personal assignments. He then said he had retired from that field to follow another line of work. This criminal is charged with the kidnapping of seven children, the killing of six, and the killing of the parents of those who stand with me today, Steven and Jason Kalling. Scott used techniques to gain the trust of the children, one being using his police uniform to ‘guide’ children astray from their parents or guardians, children are always taught to trust a police officer. He guided them away to the woods across the street, later killing them about fifteen hours later. Blood was kept in jars and most likely ingested. All forms of evidence are charred and burnt, he most likely tried burning all evidence. The case regarding school teacher Erin DeLong is being described as a ‘vicious attack on the unfortunate passerby’. Scott had come to interview Miss DeLong to figure how much she knew and if she needed to be eliminated. After receiving the information he needed, he attempted to kill Miss DeLong after pretending to leave school grounds. As another issue being his technology, Scott used a mixture of latex, rubber, and oil to make the sludge found at every crime scene. The tentacles were computerized robots he constructed after the factory explosion. And how he made the technology of ours fail? He carried super charged magnets on him, taped under his suit. Scott Shelby was shot in the back of the head by reporter and journalist, Janelle Winters. She will be getting a Medal of Honor and a promotion to further her career in the field. The Kallings will receive a full makeover of the damage done to their house and paid medical treatment for Jason’s ‘unmuting’ voice. I believe the moral of this case is that a grudge can go a long way. Now then, good Lord, God Bless us.”



“God bless us, every one…” Jason croaked.



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JOIN THE DISCUSSION

This book has 6 comments.


on Jul. 12 2014 at 12:15 am
Olivia-Atlet ELITE, Dardenne Prairie, Missouri
325 articles 10 photos 1165 comments

Favorite Quote:
"To these the past hath its phantoms,
More real than solid earth;
And to these death does not mean decay,
But only another birth"
- Isabella Banks

I only made it to chapter 5 tonight, but I will surely read the rest tomorrow! Keep up the great work! ^_^

JRaye PLATINUM said...
on Jun. 10 2013 at 6:00 pm
JRaye PLATINUM, Dorr, Michigan
43 articles 10 photos 523 comments

Favorite Quote:
"If you build your house far enough away from Trouble, then Trouble will never find you."

"Have you ever looked fear in the face and said, 'I just don't care.'?"

This is awesome! I wasn't real familar with "the slender man" before, but I have to say this is a cool story! Really well written, really intriging! The emotional elements with Steven and Jason were perfect, fit in the story perfectly. Great job, keep writting! :)

on Jun. 7 2013 at 7:33 pm
Childofthemind BRONZE, San Marcos, California
1 article 0 photos 42 comments
dude you have a gift. and on a website spesifically for gifted and tallented writers you are in a class all your own. keep writing.    :D

on Jun. 7 2013 at 12:32 pm
Carpe-Caffeam GOLD, No Where, Florida
10 articles 0 photos 444 comments

Favorite Quote:
“If it weren’t for the coffee, I’d have no identifiable personality whatsoever.” –David Letterman

Haha, I know and it's okay. ^_^ I figured that this was probably originally for a book report in your English class and the teacher must have had you point out the types of conflict within your work (or that you had done it for your own benefit to make sure that you included a variety of different conflicts). Anyways, excellent work and have a great day! :D

on Jun. 6 2013 at 10:47 pm
The_Doctor GOLD, Canon City, Colorado
17 articles 0 photos 3 comments

Favorite Quote:
“Because while the truncheon may be used in lieu of conversation, words will always retain their power. Words offer the means to meaning, and for those who will listen, the enunciation of truth. And the truth is, there is something terribly wrong with this country, isn't there? Cruelty and injustice, intolerance and oppression. And where once you had the freedom to object, to think and speak as you saw fit, you now have censors and systems of surveillance coercing your conformity and soliciting your submission. How did this happen? Who's to blame? Well certainly there are those more responsible than others, and they will be held accountable, but again truth be told, if you're looking for the guilty, you need only look into a mirror. I know why you did it. I know you were afraid. Who wouldn't be? War, terror, disease. There were a myriad of problems which conspired to corrupt your reason and rob you of your common sense. ”

The first response to my book, and it is positive. Thank you. Yes, I apologize to you and other readers for the (man vs man) typo, it was not meant to be there. But, since it is, I will explain it. "Man vervus man" conflict involves stories where characters are against each other. This is an external conflict. The conflict may be direct opposition, as in a gunfight or a robbery, or it may be a more subtle conflict between the desires of two or more characters, as in a romance or a family epic. This type of conflict is very common in traditional literature, fairy tales and myths. One example of the "man versus man" conflict is the relationship struggles between the protagonist and the antagonist stepfather in This Boy's Life. Other examples include Dorothy's struggles with the Wicked Witch of the West in The Wonderful Wizard of Oz and Tom Sawyer's confrontation with Injun Joe in The Adventures of Tom Sawyer or the entire book of Count of Monte Cristo. This defines the basis of Slender.

on Jun. 6 2013 at 10:05 pm
Carpe-Caffeam GOLD, No Where, Florida
10 articles 0 photos 444 comments

Favorite Quote:
“If it weren’t for the coffee, I’d have no identifiable personality whatsoever.” –David Letterman

The photo accompanying this story intrigued me, so I decided to read this entire novel. You're an excellent writer! At first I was a bit confused at the rapid changes in point of view, but you tied it together beautifully in the end. The only thing that I found odd was that in chapter 13 you had "(man vs. man)" following one of your paragraphs. Other than that, awesome job! :D