Out of Town

I'm out of town for a few days, and when I get back I'll do one last check of the shelter down in the park. Even if Dom was hiding there, she hasn't been back for over ten days, so the likelihood that she'll return at all is negligible at best. I don't want to waste my time any further, so I'm going to try and find some other lead.

In the meantime, I feel very vulnerable here. I'm staying on a college campus and, lucky me, one side is surrounded by forest. As long as I stick to the buildings and in groups of people, I think I'll be safe. Note to self: check whether or not 'safety in numbers' applies to Slender Man. Seems to me that more than a few blogs stated that rule is essentially null and void when it comes to tall and faceless.

Since I'm on a general use terminal, I'm getting some annoyed looks from one of students that actually attends this college for school, not a vocal festival, so I'd probably better get off. I saw someone I wanted to talk to, anyways; someone was wearing an Operator Symbol on their hoodie. If I can happen by a friend here, I'll be much better off.

Nobody, signing out.

Nine Days

I've been observing the shelter for nine days (counting today; I'll check it out again after school today), but Dom is a no-show. We got some snow a few days back, so I was hoping that I'd be able to find some footprints or something, but there was nothing. I'm starting to think that I'm barking up the wrong tree with this shelter. It could be a result of some kid messing around in the trees. Or a resourceful homeless guy.

I'm going to keep watching for another week or so, but if I don't find anything definitive, I'll begin looking elsewhere. It's driving me crazy thinking that Dom could be out there somewhere dying because I'm wasting my time with some pile of wood in the city park.

However, I think my snow theory has some weight to it; since the snow started to fall, I haven't seen the Slender Man at all. No faceless skull staring at me from the trees, peeking in my window; no inky black tendrils snaking across the dark corners of the room. He's mercifully absent, and oddly enough, that gives me a little hope.

Nobody, signing out.

Breakthrough?

I know I only posted a few days ago, but I think I've made a discovery. It came at the cost of great idiocy, though.

Something came up last night, and I needed to take a walk this morning to clear my head. I didn't really watch where I was going, and I ended up in the city park, on one of the nature trails. Surrounded by trees. Slender Man, trees, and me alone. Not my best idea.

Anyways, While I was out there, I found something odd. I snapped a few pictures with my phone, so I'm sorry for the quality of the images:









































This wouldn't have struck me as out of place, except for the fact that this shelter looks exactly like what Dom and I used to build when we'd play in the woods when we were little. Dom is the more 'outdoorsy' of the two of us now, and I know she'd be able to build something like that pretty easily. I'm going to start checking it out on a daily basis to see if I can find her.

Nobody, signing out.

Merry Christmas?

I'm sorry about the lack of posts, but things are...well, things are wierd right now. I was really counting on snow for Christmas, but I've got absolutely none. I didn't want it just for the fact that I've had a white Christmas every year since I was born, I also wanted snow to test a hypothesis: Slender Man is never depicted or sighted outside in the snow, to the best of my knowledge, so maybe there's something to the 'Slender Man is a tree spirit' theory and he can't be around in the snow, as it represents some sort of death for him.

But there's no way of knowing right now. I fully expect a Christmas with Slendy staring in from outside. I don't have to worry about other people seeing him; the bastard is always invisible to everyone but me. When everyone around me starts to see him, I'll know that he's tired of playing his little game and is coming for me.

At any rate, I haven't heard anything from that asmodeus freak, so I suppose that's a good sign. I have, however, noticed a black four-door Sedan parked outside my house since December began. No one in the neighborhood drives a vehicle like that, and it's always gone in the morning and back by the time I get home from school. I'm probably just paranoid; one of my neighbors could have a visitor. ...a very, very frequent visitor who hates the hours between 6:30 and 3:00.

But, I digress. I'm still looking for the journal. Dom, if you're alive and reading this, please come back. We had a promise for this Christmas, remember? And if the Slender Man is what made you run, I swear we'll find a way to fight him together.

Merry Christmas, all; Nobody, signing off.

Reality

I went on vacation last weekend to apply for college, figuring that it would help me clear my head. I thought the break might also help me find out where Dom is. She has to be alive and safe, so I'm not really that worried about running out of time.

What I am worried about, though, is the guy in the suit. I saw him again, but not in town. He was outside my hotel, a good five hours away from where I live. Clearly, he's following me or my family. Judging by the fact that he only seems to venture out into the open when I'm by myself, I'm going to guess that I'm the lucky target.

In the sighting I described Tuesday, he was far enough away that I wouldn't have been able to distinguish any facial features. Up at the hotel, though, he had his big ugly head pressed right against the window, showing me quite clearly that he has no face, just a pale, smooth spot of skin.

Well, he's freakishly tall, grew about four extra arms in a suspicious fire, gave me nausea and a headache when I got too close to him, and he has no face. All the traits are there. What I thought was fiction has become reality. That stupid thread in that stupid forum, those stupid movies, and those stupid blogs; they're all real. I was reading and watching them for fun, laughing at the protagonists as they faced some huge force of evil that they couldn't beat (yeah, I consistently cheer for the villains in books and movies), and it's come back to bite me in the ass.

I really hate karmic justice.

Wait a minute...Dom. I showed her the movies. I showed her the blogs. Her journal was about him. I thought she was just giving creative writing a try. This is all my fault.

I need to find that journal.

Nobody, signing out.

Not a Dream

I haven't posted anything lately, and I'm sorry. I just thought that maybe, just maybe, everyone else was right. Maybe Dom never existed, which means that she never disappeared, which in turn means that I never went crazy and ended up going to a mental institute where I escaped with the help of a very convenient fire.

But I saw him again. I know I said earlier that I couldn't see anything but a silhouette in the smoke, but I know that he's the same person that I saw yesterday morning. He certainly fits the height requirements.

He was just waiting across the street from the school, standing just inside the cover of the trees. By way of explanation, there's a forest across the street from our high school that connects to the city park and the golf course. The science teachers usually use it for all their nature-based lessons and labs.

I can't seem to recall his face, but I know that he stood out to me because he was wearing a full suit. Black jacket, black slacks, black tie, and a bright white shirt. And he was freakishly tall. I must've stared at him for a full minute before the teacher threw a book at me (a small paperback, not a full textbook). My fault, really; I hadn't answered the question he'd asked yet.

Anyways, I'm back on the investigative trail. Seeing this guy just standing there set off the urge to find Dom again. If I find anything out, I'll post it here.

Nobody, signing off.

Curiouser and Curiouser

Before I explain what's been going since Wednesday, you have to understand that I live in a relatively small town. We don't have a mental institution, so our hospital generally takes care of anyone with mental issues unless it's too severe to be handled without the help of a specialist from outside.

Anyways, after the little episode last Wednesday, I was taken to the hospital to see the doctor, and after their initial interrogation and check up, I ended up having to wait for a psychiatrist from a different clinic to arrive. When he did finally get there, he wasn't all that interested in me. He was much more interested in why I wanted to find Dom's journal.

Thinking back, I should've passed it off as a joke gone too far. The psychiatrist decided that I needed to be brought to his clinic, some two hours away, for some more serious evaluation throughout the weekend. By about nine that night, I was there in my own little room, no belt or shoelaces, wearing an itchy, papery white outfit.

The psychiatrist kept asking me the same questions throughout Thursday and Friday, all of them about the journal and who Dom was. I kept telling him the same thing, but he never seemed quite satisfied with what I had to say. I was told that I would need some medicine, or I'd be kept there indefinitely.

Which brings me to Saturday. I was given my first pills to take, and they must've figured that I'd be good and do as I was told. They didn't stay in the room and watch me take them, so I just copied the movies and hid them in a hole in my mattress. I was starting to look for a way out, because I was not going to sit in that room for the rest of my life and just take whatever they gave me like a fricking lab rat.

Turns out I didn't have to do much searching. At about eight o' clock (yeah, shortly after the post by 'asmodeus'), the fire alarms went off. All of the electric locks were released, so I was able to get out. It felt like I walked right into a wall of heat. With the smoke stinging my eyes, I couldn't really see much, and I was in too much of a panic to think to hit the ground. You see, I was on the second floor, and hadn't been paying much attention to where my room was in relation to the fire exits or stairwells.

I must've inhaled too much smoke, or something, because I rounded the corner and saw...well, I don't know what I saw, honestly. It was a silhouette of a man, had to be at least seven feet tall, and he was just standing there with his head cocked. I had the impression that he was looking at me, and I was overpowered by a feeling of intense nausea. As I started to wretch, the smoke must've been playing tricks on me: it almost looked like he had grown six spindly arms. Then I fainted.

I've tried to explain what happened next, but I just can't: I woke up at home, in my own bed, in my own clothes, and instead of smoke, I smelled like petrichor (rain falling on dry ground, I believe). I asked my parents about the fire and the clinic, but they just laughed it off as a nightmare. They'd forgotten the incident like everyone else had forgotten Dom.

Something really strange is at work here. Nobody, signing off.