There were some questions asked in that last post. I can't answer them very well. My head is shot, my brain is fucked up. My memory doesn't work properly. There are images that my mind just slides away from. Now my hands shake, my body is unsteady, and I can't focus. Thoughts don't work, don't focus. The world hurts.

They took us somewhere, you know who. Dragged us out. We were tested for various things. We were supposed to be able to survive for a longer length of time in the area. It takes your mind, crawls out and in. Folds and unfolds. We started dying. We were all dead. I don't know where we are. I don't like to look outside. The trees bleed, and there is pus seeping out of the earth, and eyes amongst the branches. Sometimes there is singing.

He won't die. My 'parent'. Doesn't deserve the title. But he won't, he's too much of a bastard to. All of us who were taken to this place had significant others who had seen the tall man. None of us had seen him ourselves. We were all happy, content.

The tall man, the gentleman, he will kill without caring. But he's not supposed to get in here. Amy said I could keep him out. Keep an eye on the corners. But sometimes I think I see him, but he's not there. He couldn't be there.

I didn't save anyone else. They're all outside.


  1. OI PARENT! . What does the slender man look like?

    How tall is he?
    Does he have tentacles?
    How many arms does he have?

    Or even better, SLENDER MAN!! Reply to me yourself, i know you have a way with technology, how about you answer somethings for me. Someone give me some answers

  2. A Concerned ParentJuly 19, 2011 at 2:07 PM

    You really expect him to reply to you? Well, I suppose that sometimes he does. But he only generally speaks in delusions, his words interpreted by mad followers who are better off dead. The tall man is a monster, made of the dark. He is everywhere and nowhere, a creature that lives behind the eyes in the dark recesses of the brain. He waits beside the beds of his prey, and will tear them to pieces because he can. You can't define him. I can't define him. But I can observe patterns, and with those some modicum of safety may be acquired.

  3. Patterns. Hmm. So going by what you are saying here is: you are safe, to a small amount anyway. Do you feel good knowing that you left your son to The Slender Man? Was he like a sacrifice? Were you really that desperate to get Mr. Thin off your case that you would sacrifice your own kin? No wonder your son hates you. You should go and end your life now, because you might be too delusional to realize it, but as soon as Mr. Thin is done with Charlie. You're fucked.

  4. Parent, do you have any personal experience with Him, beyond what you've put Charlie, and presumably others, through?

  5. Nobody deserves this, Charlie. I'm so sorry that this is happening. I wish I could be of more use to you.

  6. A Concerned ParentJuly 23, 2011 at 9:23 PM

    Some personal experience, mostly watching from afar. And I did see him as a child.

    Don't be sorry for the boy. He barely counts as a person.

  7. Yes. I'm still the same Shabby as before, just signed in now. Once again this is on my iPhone so please excuse any major spelling errors except if they happen to be I've Parent's name or Mr. Thins's.

    Alright. Parent, how close are you to Mr. Thin? You seem to be ok with treading on his turf and yet you aren't worried about being hurt.

    Your methods seem similar to slenderman's. I would even go as far as to say you learned from him or you even are him. Also the way you saw Charlie as a child seems more reminiscent of a stalker than a father, much like mr. Thin.

    Who are you parent? And why do you want to destroy Charlie?

    Also I want a response from Mr. Thin. I know he has a way with technology, HUVE ME A RESPONSE YOU SUITED DEMON!

  8. What do you mean he doesn't count as a person, Concerned Parent? He seems pretty human to me.

  9. He means that so long as he can convince himself that Charlie "doesn't count as a person," he can do whatever he wants without having to feel guilty. Kind of like the same way people justify beating, starving, burning, and murdering their dogs by saying, "But they're only animals!"