Deep down, you've always known it would end like this.

You press your hand harder to one of the wounds at your side, futilely trying to stop the
bleeding.

"Quick, I think they went this way!" Shouts a man, the same man you were supposed to kill,
but who got you with a gun instead. You press your back harder against the wall and hold
your breath as loud steps pass by you.

You've been in this business since you've turned 18. Your… rough upbringing made it easy
to become a trained weapon, a killer.

…though you still preferred the term 'mercenary'. You had standards.

You try to take a deep breath but wince in pain, as it starts to get harder and harder to
breathe. Feeling dizzy, you raise your hand from your wound, mesmerized by the color of
your blood, the maroon leaving unwashable, yet beautiful stains on your blue shirt.

"Heh," You chuckle and look up at the uncovered lightbulb, the only source of light in your
hiding spot. "At least it was fun while it lasted."

As you close your eyes, ready to part from this world, a tall figure obscures the light.

"It doesn't have to end here, child." A voice reverberates through your head, a tone you
would recognize anywhere.

And as the darkness overtakes your vision, the last thing you see is a tall, pale man in a
black suit, with a bright, red, tie.

A small child runs through the forest.

They don't have a direction, nor a destination in mind, they are simply running away.

Away from the house that caused them so much pain, from the parents that caused them so
much suffering.

After what feels like forever, the child trips on one of the protruding roots, landing face first
into the ground.

They can feel a lump forming on their forehead, and that, coupled with their troubling
thoughts, it's what finally makes them break.

They start crying, sitting up and tightly wrapping their hands around their knees. They've
never felt so helpless, so alone in this big, cruel world.
A sound of their parents screaming their name snaps them out of their thoughts. They sound
mad, worse than they've ever sounded before.

With their vision obscured by their tears, the child manages to hide behind the tree, praying
to God- no, to anyone, to help them, to make it so that their parents will never find them.

The sounds of screaming get closer and closer and the child shuts their eyes, hoping,
praying for a miracle.

And as the steps get closer, get so close that the kid can swear their parents are right on the
other side of the tree, the two people stop screaming their name.

And instead.

They start screaming in pain.

The child opens their eyes in shock, frozen in fear as they dare not to see the scene
unfolding behind them. They hear the sounds of their parents screaming, the sounds of
something ripping, and an uncomfortable, wet sound of something hitting the tree.

They look down and their once pristine, white shoes, and see few spots of red liquid on their
surface.

The liquid they immediately recognise as blood.

As they stare at what is surely their parents' blood, the screams end just as suddenly as they
started.

The child holds their breath, awaiting something, anything…

But nothing happens.

After what feels like hours but was probably minutes, the kid curiously peaks their head out
from behind the tree.

To their suprise, there was nobody there.

Even their parents, or rather, their parents' bodies, were nowhere to be seen. The only
tangible proof that what they've heard was real was the big puddle of blood in front of the
tree, slowly sinking into the ground. Some red specks could also be seen on the green flora
around it.

It was then when the child's fear turned into acceptance, which turned into relief. Their
parents are not there, so that means…

They're free.

"Yes."
A soothing, male voice flashes through the child's mind and they look up from the ground to
see a man that wasn't there before.

The man is of a tall, slender build, dressed in an immaculate black suit, with a eye-catching
red tie. He has all the typical human features, except…

Except his ghost pale skin, and the lack of face.

He's a creature of myths and legends, feared by many.

But the child is no longer affraid.

They run up to the tall man and hug him, wanting, needing some kind of closure after such
intense experience.

The man does nothing as the child wraps themselves tightly around his legs, but as the
seconds pass, he slowly bends down, embracing the kid as well.

"There's nothing to be scared of." The child hears in their head again, and presses their
cheek against the smooth fabric of his suit, not even flinching when tentacles sprout from the
mans back, capturing them in an even tighter, warmer embrace. "I'll take care of you."

And for the first time in forever, the kid smiles.

When you open your eyes, you're no longer in the room, you're in… a forest?

Your face is pointing upwards, and you're faced with all too familiar tree crows, the ones you
know all to well, in the forest you first met-

"Slenderman?" You ask and immidietaly regret your decision as the pain passed through
your chest and throat, the injuries you've sustained still in place.

You look down, and surely, you're met with the expressionless, smooth surface of your
guardian's face. He's holding you in his arms instead of his tentacles, the luxury you've
haven't had in many years.

"My child, take it easy." The man carefully stops in his tracks, as to not cause you any more
harm. "It's too late for me to take you to a human facility, you will not make it." You can hear
a tinge of panic in his usually emotionless voice, and try not to think of it's implications.

"Then… what can I do?" You whisper.

"I can only save you if we form a contract." You shudder at the word, as you know that
despite asking, begging many times, the man never offered you the position of proxy. "You'll
live, but-"
"Slendy." You cut him off, as the feeling of dizziness returns with full force. "I'll do it."

"Child? Don't fall-"

You don't have a chance to hear the rest, as the world around you drifts into blackness once
more.

This time, you're in a room when you wake up. You look around the grand, gothic living room
as you sit up on a leather sofa, sighing with relief as you notice that the pain is gone.

At the long, dining table sits Slenderman, with a single sheet of paper, an ink pen, and
surprisingly, your mask, in front of him.

It's then when the dots in your head finally connect.

You're here.

In Slenderman's mansion.

The hub of all monster (and humans) from horrors, the place that often houses the creatures
from nightmares.

And so, before your guardian has a chance to say anything, you run up to the table and
place your mask on your face with a loud thud.

A pair of black eyes observe the scene unfolding in Slenderman's mansion from the
shadows, the smirk on his face widening as he sees Slenderman fret over you, the tall
creature ordering you to sit back down and take it easy.
̰̮͆̿͗̉̅̅̆̂́̏̂̅̚

"T̷̞̣̞̖͇̬͕͇̦̳͇̉͋̽ h̷̡̭̰͍̭̗̝̳̃̃͜ ė̵̡͉̻̱̼̗͇͔̻̟̅̿̏́̌̀͐̕͠ͅ y̴̡̧̧͍͎͈̠͎̖͇̆́́̈͋̈́͑̀̽̕̚͝ ̴̧̧̣̤̳͇̻̳̬̝̣̹̻̰̩̈́̈̅͒̐͌͌͊̃͠͠ẃ̷̨̝̳̮̣̱̮̭̗̪͉̖̻͜ ḯ̵̛͕̻̪͍̳̠̅͆̄̄̍͌̾̈́͂̚̕͠ l̸̨̡͚̪̓̀͠ ḷ̶̗͍̻͕͖͍̫͔̙́̄ ̵̧̛͕͙͇̼͇͖̙͚̭͔̽͌͂́̋̀̈́̉̋́͜͠͝ͅͅd̴̮̮̦̞̘̺̼̟̱͐̓̀̎͐́͒͌̆̓̌̉̀̀̌ͅ o̸̹̱͓̔͌̓̍̇͑͗͆͆͠ ̷̢̛̞̦̩͖̤̓̓͐̓͗͗̕j̸̨̡̢̡̺̼̘̜̺̹̤̟̗̥̘̈́̈́̐̎̊ ṵ̴̫͎̗̥̱̠̗̰̽̊̃̀̎̿͘s̷̛̮͕̬̞̬̝̭̈͒̂̋̈̀͐͠ t̸̳̳̔̒̑͐͛̈́̽͑͘ ̷̡̖̬͇̫̅̄̒͊̈́̓̑͗̓́̍͛̚͝f̷̧̛̑͗́̎̏͌̀ì̴n̸̛͙̫̺̗̦͔̆̔̉̐̋͋͑̏̇́̇̆͐ e̸͍̞̫̲̽̓͌̇̾̇͆̚͝͝ ." He says, fading back into the shadows with a sinister laugh.