Okay. So. The situation. What happened back in Chicago. I think you all deserve to know. This is, of course, all paraphrased.
So, I was walking around the streets around a mall or business district or something. I’m being vague partially on purpose and partially because I’m not too familiar with big cities. But anyway, I’m not alone, because I’m not an idiot. Everything about me screams “tourist,” and walking around the streets of Chicago at night isn’t a smart move. At all. But yeah, I’m walking around with this girl. Now, I’ll admit that I’ve got a bit of a crush on her. I’ve talked to her some. Enough to consider her a friend, but not enough to really know her too well. I’d been talking to her, and I think things were going really well. Damn, she’s such a cute thing, too. Tiny little thing…I’m not particularly tall, but she only comes up to my shoulder. So I’m walking around with her, talking, and really enjoying myself.
We’re walking around, and then we stop at Starbucks for coffee. We walk a bit more, and that’s when she drops the bomb.
She looks down at her coffee, looks back up, turns to me and asks “So, have you ever heard of Marble Hornets?”
Fuck. Fucking shit fuckity fuck fuck. Fucking fuck shitting fuck on a piss sandwich mixed with fucking shit.
And of course, only then do I look back and notice the three men following us. And we’ve wandered off the main street in the area a bit. I try keeping a level head and work on steering us to better-lit areas. “Why do you ask?” I ask her.
“Just curious,” she says. “It’s just a series I really enjoy.” She’s a film major, incidentally. “It’s a web series—”
“About this faceless guy called the Slender Man, yeah,” I say, cutting her off. “Seriously, are you really just curious, or….” I hear the three guys following us start running at this point, so I grab her arm and take off. And I panicked so I just started running without thinking, and she had no idea why I was dragging her so she was fighting me, so long story short, we ended up cornered on a dark side street.
“Father is not happy with you,” they said, all in unison. “You’re trying to escape. He doesn’t like it when you don’t play his game.”
Fucking proxies. Not the ones I usually deal with. The ones people call hallowed (stupid term) or whatever. The mindless drones who’ve given up all identity to the Slender Man.
Well, this girls saves my life. She’s got mace. Sprays it in one’s eye, and it somehow pains them all. They must have been on some sort of hivemind thing. After all, they were talking in unison. We take advantage of that, bolt to safer streets, and make our way back.
“What the fuck was that?” she screams at me. “What the fuck?”
“Oh, you should fucking know, miss ‘have you ever heard of Marble Hornets.’ What the fuck were you thinking?”
And it takes her a second for things to register. “You can’t be serious,” she says. Here’s the thing: she was legitimately just asking. She’s a fan of the mythos, yeah, and she actually knows quite a bit about it. But it’s still all just some internet thing to her. She’s not being stalked.
Well. Chances are that she sure as hell is now.
So the next few posts will be, first of all, a rethinking of my view of proxies, followed by my monitoring of the situation. I’ve been talking to her some, and I’ve got some background now, so I’ll keep you guys posted.