It is a world of Coincidence, where nothing can be taken for granted, and nothing is outside the realm of possibility. The “Laws of Reality” I had until recently believed to govern this world have just undergone a serious blow. Then again, I’ve never held much stock for perceived law. That prose is too purple, captain. Set phasors to ‘minimalist’ and fire when ready. For this journal to serve the purpose for which I intend it, I’ll need to do away with the poetics and get to the meat of my story.
Looking back, it probably began last September. I am wary of citing that incident as the actual Start, considering how very coincidental and hard to believe it is but it is my duty to record it for posterity. It was the first assignment of the semester and, as I am studying to be an illustrator with a specialization in comic books, I was assigned to draw two pages involving an incident from my day. One would be hard-pressed to find a duller topic. I slept on it.
It is important to mention, though some of you may not believe me, that I had never heard of him before early January of this year. One might argue that I had seen his name floating around the internet-or overheard a story-and remembered it subconsciously. I do not deny this, but I think I would have remembered him considering my unnatural obsession with all things Horror, and mythology like his is right up my alley. In any case, back in September I dreamed about being chased through a forest of dead trees by something tall and thin. I ended up drawing my dream for the class. While what I came up with lacks all of his hallmark character tags and modus operandi, it does bear certain striking resemblances to his legend. Also, the Name was the same.
I forgot about this project, and had a mostly trouble-free semester, despite a run of terrible bad luck. And then, in early January, a friend of mine shared a link to a video on Youtube. I was enamored (as I’ve said, I have a thing for horror stories, and this one…it resonated in a way I’ll discuss in another entry). Not knowing the danger, I began sewing a doll in his likeness. With every step of the doll I completed, things I mistook for ‘coincidences’ began to increase in frequency.
An oppressive feeling of unease.
Glances caught in my peripheral vision.
Every night at midnight, footsteps by the back door.
One night, I jolted awake at the sound of my bedroom door opening.
And then, the day before yesterday, I saw him. I was driving through the field near my house, at night. The radio in my car became a wail of static, and he was there ahead in the road. I saw him only for a split second before I was passed, but my God, My God, he or it was not human. Like a thing half-formed, like a mockery of its prey.
I am not in my hometown now, as I was only home for winter break. I am in a big city, so maybe there is hope. In hindsight, how could I have been so stupid? Is not one of the foremost rules of horror to not go poking one’s nose where one knows danger can be found? I suppose it doesn’t matter.
I am being hunted by the Slender Man.
It is happening, whether I brought it upon myself by seeking out information, whether he sought me out through my dream, or whether it was merely