I stop the water, undress, and climb in. I draw the curtain and lay my head to rest against the edge of the tub even though my face and hair have the most nail polish damage, and will be the most difficult to clean. The hot water burns my skin a little, but it’s soothing as well. I just rest here, letting the hot water calm me down. I hope they’re not expecting me to finish quickly.
What have I done though? Not to my room, but to Adam. Is there some way I could have avoided this? Is there some drastic turn of events I caused that led to this? If I hadn’t gotten up to rescue Shana, we’d be in Michigan already. We’d be safe, but then I’d spend my whole life wondering if I could have saved her, and now that I have tried, I’m going to spend my whole life regretting Adam’s disappearance. Whether I live to be an old woman, or if I die trying to get him back, it’s never going to go away.
I lay my head back, adjusting my position in the water. I close my eyes and breathe deep, and exhale in a sorrowful sigh.
“I’ll never find peace, will I?” I ask myself. I rest here for a few more seconds, trying to harvest whatever peace I can get, when I have a very unwelcome guest.
“Go away,” I cry as the static appears. My voice is already cracked and I can feel the tears coming. Stop crying damnit! I tell myself. It’s just what he wants.
I open my eyes and turn my head to the side. He’s here, just inside the door. I can see his silhouette outside the shower curtain. His black, slim form rendered imperfectly still by his jagged contortions. “Why?” I ask.
No response.
“What have I done to deserve this?”
He just stands there.
“Give him back.”
Nothing.
“Please,” I cry, but still nothing. I am about to turn away from him, when he starts moving- really moving. I watch as he leans over, and I almost think his eye-searing head is going to peek over the shower curtain, when I see more limbs come from him.
These are identical to his arms that come down below the bathtub rim, except they extend from his back. What is he doing? I wonder. Suddenly his form shrinks until it’s normal human size aside from his arms and tendrils. I hear laughter. I recognize the voice.
“Jason,” I say aloud.
“You aren’t as strong as you think,” he says. His figure morphs again. Why do I hear Jason?
“You don’t deserve to be freed from this!” shouts Leanne angrily. He can mimic Leanne too?
“Stop,” I cry, but his figure morphs.
“Why didn’t you save him? You rescued your friend instead of my brother. My five-year-old brother. Don’t you think he deserves to be saved?” accuses Lindsay. Lindsay is gone too? Why haven’t I heard about this? He must have taken her recently, or maybe the police just didn’t relay it to us due to our own troubles.
“Please stop,” I cry, but he morphs again.
“Alyssa... why won’t you help me? You helped Shana, but I’m your brother. You won’t help me?” asks Adam in a pleading tone. That one hits home and I can’t help but cry loudly.
“Why are you doing this to me?” I say. “Give him back to me,” I beg.
“Give him back and I’ll come. I’m stronger than him. I’ll last longer. Just let him go and I’ll come,” I offer hysterically. I see Adam’s long and slender hand reach out and through the curtain. I grab it and am greeted by a wave of static, but I don’t care. I just want Adam back. I climb to my knees and clasp both of my hands around Adam- or the fiend’s.
“Just let him go. Just let him go,” I repeat over and over.
The hand jerks away and I look back to see the fiend returning to his normal form. He’s not laughing like I expect him to be, instead he seems menacing. He’s assuming a posture that implies that he’s about to attack. Is he going to take me? If he does will he give back Adam? I feel a surge of the static screech, and I close my eyes in response. I can’t breathe. I flail and struggle but something is wrong. I feel consciousness slipping. He’s killing me. No, I want to see Adam freed first.
“No…” I try and scream, but it’s distorted, and I can’t draw the breath to continue. I lose control and panic. I open my eyes again and notice something. I’m underwater. I thrust myself up and have to cough water out before being able to gaspingly draw a much needed breath.
Was it just a dream? No this entity works with dreams. He’s a living nightmare. What just happened was him at work. Maybe I fell asleep when I closed my eyes, and slipped underwater, or maybe he forced me into a trance. I don’t know, but I hurry up and do what I came here for and scrub as much nail polish off my skin as I can. I have to use my nails to pull it off my skin, and by the time I get it all off my skin is red and tender from the scratching.
When I finish I climb out and look around at the water mess I made when flailing about. How could my parents not come to my aid when they heard that commotion, unless the monster masked it somehow? I notice in the steamy mirror that I’ve missed a few spots particularly in the hair area, but I let it go. I ponder the dream I just had.
“What do I do?” I ask myself. There’s a knock on the door.
“Alyssa, the sheriff wants to talk to you,” says Mom.
“The sheriff?” I ask.
“Yes he says it’s important. Will you hurry up? He’s on the phone,” she says.
“Alright.” Instead of blow drying my hair I wrap a towel around it and walk out of the bathroom. Garbed in nothing but two towels I take the phone from Mom and head down the hall to my room. I almost faint when I look at the damage I caused. No wonder my parents freaked.
“H-Hello?” I answer the phone, realizing the sheriff is still waiting.
“This Alyssa Redwood?” asks Sheriff Fraser.
“Yes sir,” I answer.
“I have some news. It may be good or bad, but it involves you.”
“Uh-huh?”
“We found Mario Douglas,” he says.
“The bus driver?”
“Yeah, one of our men arrested him outside the woods. Listen he doesn’t seem to be himself, and he keeps saying your name. We want to bring you down here and see if maybe he’ll give you some answers. If he’s just jabbering on, well, it can’t hurt. Would you be willing to talk with him for us?” he asks.
“Well yeah. I mean if my parents are okay with it,” I answer.
“I already ran it by your Mom. She said you may not be feeling up for it,” he says.
“Oh no, that was- something else.”
“Alright then. We’ll see you soon,” he says.
Mom is standing in the hallway. She doesn’t say anything, but I can tell she heard my end of the conversation.
“I’ll be ready in ten,” I say. It takes me a while to find a matching set of clothes among the torn and broken hangers in my closet, and it’s not that I’m being picky, it’s that I threw a really big tantrum. I’m somewhat embarrassed, or at least I would be if there weren’t so many more important things to be upset over. I settle on white tank top some jeans and a jacket. I put my socks and sneakers on and brush my hair out so it’s detangled, if still messy. I’ll deal with it.
I leave everything else, not even sure if there’s anything I still have that I can put on, seeing as I probably destroyed every cosmetic item I own. It looks like Dad isn’t coming. He’s in the living room chair with a half-empty bottle of Shabbat wine next to him. He’s not a heavy drinker so he’s probably drunk himself unconscious by now. If only I could escape with sleep...
Mom, Bubbe, and I all head out single file to the car. I look around, but don’t see, or even sense the entity. For some reason he’s dropped his ‘round-the-clock watch on me. The drive to the police station is quiet, but full of tension. My thoughts are focused on Adam and Adam only, and by the time we get to the station, it takes me a second to remember why I’m coming here, Mr. Mario. Maybe he has some answers for me. If the fiend really did have him, and he’s out now looking for me... well this has to help me in some way right?
Deputy
Yew, grim as ever, is waiting for us outside the station. He nods when we walk up the steps and guides us in. When we enter the station, there are over a dozen eyes on me. Some of them are giving me quizzical looks, and others confused. Some are sympathetic, and others have hopeful gazes. I think I even catch a few accusing glares, as if Mario looking for me means I’m involved in some way. Regardless, everyone including me wants answers.
Deputy Yew leads us back to the jail area. The metal detectors go off when he walks through, and even when I walk through, probably because of my belt, but no one stops me. It’s not the time for formalities. We get down to the jail cells, and the single occupant waits in the cell furthest from us. I feel that I can’t walk fast enough to get the answers I want, but I don’t want to run. When I get to the cell, I see Mario hunched like Gollum on his bed. “Mr. Mario,” I say. He looks up.
“...Redwood. Alyssa Redwood,” he says as though he’d already been saying it. He locks eyes with me for a moment and stops speaking. He’s still in his hospital gown, although by now it’s torn and dirty, and he seems to have aged ten years since I last saw him. His gaze fades from crazed to angry. “Only, Alyssa,” he says, pausing between the words.
Deputy Yew gives me a quick look to make sure I’m okay with it. I nod at him. He in turn nods to the sheriff and they escort my confused mother and Bubbe out of the holding area. Deputy Yew stops down the hall a little way to at least provide supervision while giving as much privacy as possible, and it looks like that works for Mario too.
“Alyssa,” says Mr. Mario.
“What happened to you?” I ask. He looks down at the ground and suddenly his face turns into the saddest child face I’ve ever seen. He starts crying a bit.
“I don’t know,” he mutters.
“You don’t know, Mr. Mario? The accident? You were missing from the hospital.” If he doesn’t remember, then maybe he won’t have any answers for me.
“I don’t know. I don’t know. I don’t know,” he mutters. I’m starting to feel a little disappointment, but I try a different approach.
“Why did you ask to speak with me?” I ask. He pauses his crying, as if remembering something.
“He told me to,” he answers.
“He? Who is he?” I ask, although I know who he’s talking about.
“The Slender… he’s the Slender Man. He told me to. He let me go to tell you,” he answers. Slender Man? I think. Is that really his name, or what we call him? It certainly fits.
“Why? What does…Slender want?” I ask, dubbing him with a nickname. “What does he want you to tell me?”
He rocks back and forth a bit. “He has your Adam,” he says.
“I know, but will he give him back? Will he give my b- my Adam back?” I ask.
He shakes his head.
“He’s mad at you. You shouldn’t have left. You’ve, angered him,” he says. I try to think of the best thing to say next, but he continues. “You stole from him, so he stole from you.”
“He let you go to tell me that?” I ask. “What does he want now?”
“He wants you. Only you. You stole from him. Now he wants you.”
“But he already wanted me, and Adam! He already tried to pull me in and-”
“But you escaped!” he interrupts loudly. I can see Deputy Yew about to rush over but I hold out my palm. “You won’t escape again,” he continues. “What if I leave? He won’t have me then,” I bluff.
Mr. Mario starts laughing, and then starts crying. “He’s not going to let you go. He’ll follow you.”
“But what about Adam? If I let him take me will he give back Adam?” I ask quietly as to not alarm Deputy Yew.
Mr. Mario ponders the situation.
“He wants you to come to him. If you don’t come to him, he’ll take you,” he says.
“That’s his message? Come to him or he’ll take me by force? What happens if I come of my own will?” I ask, leaning against the bars.
He slowly gets up and walks over to me. His face six inches from mine, he says.
“He wants to play a game. If you come to him... he’ll play nice. If you run from him...” He stops and walks back. “If you run from him,” he tries again, but he puts his hands to face.
“Don’t run from him. If you run then both of you will suffer... worse,” he explains. He crawls into the fetal position on the floor.
I look away, considering what he’s just told me. Does… Slender want a rematch? What does he mean by game? Is he just going to toy with me and then capture me? How can I trust him? I can trust that he’ll follow me. That’s one thing, but he wants me to come to him willingly... again? Does this mean I’m doomed?
“I just want to see my brother again,” I say, more to myself then Mr. Mario.
“He’ll be there. The Slender Man has him. He’ll always be there,” says Mr. Mario.
“How do I bring him back?” I ask.
“How do I bring my brother out of that world without killing him? Do I cut a branch from the tree? Or…?” I ask.
He looks up at me forlornly, as if he’s calculating whether not he should answer me, whether or not he’s allowed to. Finally he speaks.
“The Slender Man… he gains control by hurting and breeding pain. He feeds on the suffering of his victims. He feeds on misery and pain… So bring him joy, and life,” he says quietly.
Joy and life? I ponder. I hear static creeping up on me. It starts off quietly, but then I hear Mario screaming loudly and convulsing on the floor. He’s flailing wildly, but even though I know what’s torturing him, I can’t see it. I step back as Deputy Yew rushes to unlock the cell and get inside. By the time he does, Sheriff Fraser and another officer have already caught up. The static disperses as they reach Mario.
“Get me some paramedics!” shouts Sheriff Fraser.
Deputy Yew, thumb on Mr. Mario’s wrist shakes his head.
“He’s dead.”
19: The Walk
Mr. Mario doesn’t deserve what happened to him. Slender killed him, but the police think he may have had a heart attack. They’ll have to wait for a coroner’s report. The look on Mario’s face shows me that it was no natural heart attack though. He was scared to death. He couldn’t remember who he was or what he did. All he could remember was the Slender Man, and my name. He probably didn’t even know who I was, but he gave up what little life he had left to give me a bit of helpful information. I’ll be sure to go to his funeral, if I survive that is.
Now I’m sitting at home in Bubbe’s room. Bubbe talked Mom into waiting until tomorrow to take me to see Doctor Filbert, and I don’t even think Dad’s awake yet. I’ve just told Bubbe what Mr. Mario told me. She shakes her head.
“I knew something was wrong, from the moment you jumped in the hospital,” she says.
“I saw him then, and it was obvious that you had too, but I didn’t say anything. I dismissed it like some village idiot, and now it’s gone this far. He’s taken Adam, and now he wants you.” I hold her hand.
“There are things I could have done differently too Bubbe, but I didn’t,” I say. There are tears coming from her eyes, the first real tears I’ve seen from her in a while.
“If we’d have gotten out of here sooner... I can’t help but think we’d be okay. Maybe not that poor girl Shana, oh no we couldn’t have left her, but if we’d gotten you to safety immediately. I should have known- I did know, but I didn’t say anything, and I’m sorry for that,” she continues.
I can’t let her blame herself for this, not at her age.
“Bubbe, I’m going to do something about this. Mr. Mario, just before he died he said to bring joy and happiness to weaken Slender’s hold. It had to have meant something because Slender killed him right after, like a punishment or to keep him from telling me more, but what does that mean? Do I literally have to go to him joyous and happy?” I ask.
She thinks for a moment, but I don’t think she’s composing a wise answer to my question. I think she’s lingering on th
e fact that I’m planning to go out there. “Bubbe, I have to. I told you what Mario said. I’ve been marked ever since I escaped his world the first time, and now he’s angry. If I go to him now I may have a chance to retrieve Adam, and if I don’t it will just be worse for both of us.”
“I know that! Don’t you think I know that, child? I don’t want to hear it anymore though. You can’t expect to reason with pain when reasoning won’t help,” she cries. I haven’t heard Bubbe actually yell like that in years. I only hope Mom didn’t hear it, because I bet she hasn’t either. Bubbe bows her head.
“Joy and life... it makes sense because if he feeds on pain and breeds death, he is no friend to life,” she says.
“But what does that mean for me? I can’t go in with a smile on my face, at least not an honest one.” She looks up at me.
“But what makes you feel joy, laughter, and full of life? And what brings those feelings to Adam. What do you have in common?” she asks.
I can’t tell if she’s hinting at the answer, or if she’s thinking aloud, hoping I will find an answer. What brings me joy? I remember painting my nails with Shana. That brought me happiness, but when she disappeared I didn’t have anything. All I had was “...my guitar,” I say aloud.
“Your guitar,” Bubbe repeats.
“His favorite song is the prayer Adon Olam. The upbeat, happy tune to that song always brought a smile to his face. Even when he was sick, or upset, he always loved that song.”
I nod slowly.
“That’s why I always played it. You don’t think…”
“I think it’s the best answer we’ve got so far,” she says.
“But last time I don’t even remember having the axe when he pulled me in, how will a guitar make it through?”
The Slender Man Page 17