A/N: Woah, woah, I have noticed that someone, who's stories I've seen in the secluded Silent Hill corner of this site, has followed this story. Though I haven't read the story quite yet. And the writer writes for KH, too? Woah. And they've got a great Slenderman fic, too. Planning on getting down to read the Shell fics.

Anywhorp. So, here's the lowdown on how I post, what makes me not WANT to post, and what to expect. I don't know if I made this clear, or not, but I will never be a reliable poster. I feel like I've abandoned my KH fic-sequel, Nine Lives, but- well, mentioning it now, I feel my old KH muse stirring. I haven't updated that in almost a year. I am not reliable, but hang with me. I tend to bounce back. I'm planning on bouncing back with my Harry Potter fic, too. I can be slow with posting chapters, and I might post three in one day. Things get crazy with me. I guess ADHD has to do with it. I finally think I have an idea of where this fic is going in general. But if I disappear for a month or more, don't give up, really. I have had ALL of my followers from Nine Lives vanish, I think. It discourages me from posting.

And what I hate in a review. I hate, absolutely hate reviews that beg me to update. I feel rushed, I stress, and it's not the thing I like to see. I like seeing reviews like Kagome's Blossom's review, reflecting that I did good on things like suspense in the first chapter(I had no idea there was suspense, to be honest). And I love criticism. Don't be afraid to give me critique, to tell me when I made a mistake. I hate mistakes as much as the next person. Writing is what I want to do once I'm out of the hell of High School. And the more I improve myself now, the better I'll be. Give me well-founded, good critiques. I have only once, ONCE, gotten a proper critique. Though at the time, I had reacted badly. I see what Anon meant and improved myself by rounding out into paragraphs and describing really what was in the scene. I'm sixteen years old, guys. I'd love to see advice, and I'd love to see points for improvement. And, yes, if there are spelling errors, they get on my nerves when I find them in my stories too. Tell me when they happen?

So, sorry for delaying you. Go ahead and read this chapter. And thanks, for welcoming me into the SlenderMan corner of FF so warmly. This is, in fact, my first SlenderFic. So, yes, criticism donations are welcomed and appreciated.


I stepped lightly, making no sound. The pathetic human given authority, a 'police officer', was searching for some child that had gone missing. Not that they'd ever find the boy. I smirked, shadowing behind the man. I heard a few hushed clicks in the woods, but I dismissed it as an animal. Then a vicious bout of coughing drew my attention to a young woman, resting against a tree. A camera laid beside her; she was photographing me, then. I quietly knelt before her. How curious. She didn't try to get away.

Once the coughing fit ended, I waited a few seconds. Perhaps she needs a rub on the back, to clear her throat or somesuch. Humans had strange cures. I ran my fingers through her hair, watching her flinch and still herself. Slowly she looked up with strange, wild eyes.

They reminded me of her. Eyes that had the stormy greys, blues and greens, like a sea raging in the tempest. Eyes that changed colours. Large, round eyes that were framed by dark circles, showing sleepless nights. The exact shape, exact shades... and yet they were so different. The girl was blonde, with a round bright face that seemed to be prone to a flush. She was breathing deeply, staring at me with those damned eyes.

"So, y-you're the SlenderMan?"

Well, that took me by surprise. How curious indeed. She didn't seem overly frightened, merely curious save for anxiousness and caution. I studied her, interested in what she thought. Unfortunately, I couldn't just barge into a human's thoughts. I'd have to claim them.

"Uh, th-that's what you're called, o-on the internet. SlenderMan." She seemed to be clarifying herself. How strange. I nodded; I had used such an interface before. She blinked, then mumbled, "S-so, uh... hi?"

I smirked, rubbing her scalp like one would a pet. How cute, striking up a conversation with me. "You are a curious one," I murmured, sedating her by expanding my aura. She slumped forward and I picked her up. I picked up her things in my other arms, and gently prodded her memories with my aura. I only checked where her home was before flitting there.

Flitting, or one could call it teleporting. I merely had to step forward. An inky, fog-like smoke swept around me and the human, tiny lights from far away reaching to me. Each light represented a path. The smoke was jet black with violet shades, caressing my skin and her face. She seemed peaceful; ironic, sleeping in a monster's arms. I chuckled to myself, the sound echoing. I stepped forward toward the brightest light, the one I focused on. I stepped throught the smoke and it was, in a way, blown away to reveal the tiny living room.

The house was bigger than my living arrangements, but still so tiny. I had to stoop so I didn't hit my head. Clutter was everywhere, as well as small figurines. I opened the nearest door and found a bedroom. An addition to the cabin(if one could call it that) was a bathroom connected to the bedroom. A tiny futon, a coffee table showcasing a mess and shelves that held toys and books were in the crowded room. A multitude of pillows were propped by the wall behind the table, and a laptop stood among a mess of plates, sweets wrappers, papers and books. It seemed that the coffee table was in use as a desk. the bed was a mess of sheets, pillows and plush animals. An electric piano was shoved in a corner, with a stool before it. I laid the human down, ready to leave right away. But then I noticed one of the plush dolls in particular.

Suit and tie, no face, and tall; it lay among the jumble. I picked it up. Under the suit jacket, it clearly said 'Plushie SlenderMan~". How curious, indeed! I looked around much more attentively. There was much more media and novelties pertaining to me. A handmade poster, different images humans have managed to capture of me and printed research with my name mentioned. Papers on the desk mentioned me among other things. A handmade mask similar to Tim's hung on the bathroom's doorknob. Even my symbol was drawn on many things.

This human is much more interesting, now.