Three boys sat alone in the woods, aside from one man.

The three boys were brothers and the man was their father, and they were out on a family camping trip. Mom had opted to stay at home with their little sister, Cheyenne.

The brothers names were unimportant. So was the father's. Their ages were 12, 10, and 7.

The fires illuminated their small clearing, providing enough light to see each other's faces and a tiny bit into the trees around them.

They poked sticks into the flames in order to roast Marshmallows. All except for the ten year old, he preferred to eat it 'raw'. That is, without heating it. Good either way.

The father was setting up the tent while his sons ate away. Two tents, actually. One would hold the seven year old and the father, the other for the two older boys.

Eventually the night went on, telling scary stories and singing the accursed campfire songs.

In mid laugh, the ten year old's eyes fell upon the trees behind his father, and he saw a white, blank face. His smile dropped abruptly and he shrieked and pointed. The others quickly turned in his direction, but saw only the darkness.

"Your eyes were playing tricks on you, NAME BLOCKER. Just ignore it. I'm here with you, we're safe."

He took a deep breath, relieved. It was around ten PM, and he was fairly young. His imagination could get to him.

Soon the family laid down to their tents, happy with the way the night went. The seven year old quickly fell asleep next to his father, but the eldest two stayed up for a while, just staring overhead.

Thud. Thud thud. Thud thud thud.

The boy's ears perked up, alert. They could've sworn they'd heard footsteps, light but audible in the quiet night.

They unconsciously scooted a little closer to each other under the blanket.

Thud. Thud.

It was less frequent now, as if…it was walking? They tried to shake the thought out of their head. Just close your eyes and ignore it, they told themselves.

Suddenly a shadow fell over the tent. It wasn't see through, but you could tell the roof of the tent had darkened. Their eyes widened. The zipper came undone by its self.

Suddenly a white face poked in, and a black suit was below it, not that they saw. They were too busy screaming in fright, but suddenly the color went out of their faces, and they couldn't think straight. The scream trailed off, and the boy's physical form had vanished.

If the creature had had a mouth, it would've grinned. Screams of terror was his nourishment, in a way.

Of course the father had been awoken by the screams, groggy and annoyed. He crawled out of his tent after unzipping it, leaving the younger boy behind. As soon as his hand emerged, a black tentacle shot at the speed of shadows, covering it and pulling it. The man yelled in confusion, as he was dragged out. More tentacles erupted from the creature's form, now holding the man in the air.

The black nefarious things now covered the legs and the hands, holding him still in the air. Another one shot out and, forcing his head in the thing's direction. Two other tiny ones forced the eyes open.

Frightened howls went out of the man, forced to make eye contact with the humanoid-ish nightmare. Once again, if it could've grinned maniacally, it would've. Eventually the life drained out of him, now completely senile and gone.

The seven year old blinked a few times, aroused from sleep. He realized his daddy was no longer laying beside him. Nervously he edged out of the tent, maybe it was morning and everyone else was up?

Sadly for him, no. He was an easy target.

The weak minded would fall. Those with tough senses would be conquered by him.

Slenderman, Lord of Terror and King of Shadows.