Third Day of Festival Week
12:36 AM
Eventful Evening
Perhaps I lied. It is not the third day, not yet. Mostly because I have a story to tell you all about my day. I think I shall skip the normal nostalgic pleasantries this time around and give you a bit of insight.
The images the good Slenderman fed me were of a young boy, a fascination he seems none to willing to break. He was the younger brother of my old best friend, and I knew the kid well. He trusted me even. Once I had been given the appropriate knife image, which meant not to kill the poor kid, but to nab him and let Slenderman do his deeds with them, I set off looking for him. He was at this damn festival and I knew that well enough.
Meandering around here looking for this kid took away a lot of the feel of knowing all of the affairs of the crowd, without getting stuck in their festering pools of demon children who forwent the mornings ablutions. I found the chubby target mingling somewhere between a stand that sells marshmallow shooters and a stand that sells marshmallows, no doubt the two stands were in cahoots with one another.
I walked up behind him, and tapped him gently on the arm and he smiled up to me, ignorant of his fate. I smiled back and told him I had something cool to show him; the time-honored way to gain the trust of the adventurous side of any youth. I lead him to the building that I had first lost my way at and told him to hold on a second, that I had forgotten my jacket. As I rounded the corner again I saw the approval images flash vividly in my mind like momentary hallucinations and heard the distinct veracity of his quick appearance, a minor scream of a child muffled before it had time to echo to the ears of the wandering, likely concerned, parents. I grimaced, it was not a pleasant task, but it was also not my place to judge.
I went back to my bench and flipped open my laptop, reflecting on it all. In reality, as much as I feel for his victims sometimes, the fun of it is exhilarating. It is an idea so much bigger than myself. One day, I will have to muster the gumption to be curious, and ask the man what he does with his victims. Possibly soon.
I walked up behind him, and tapped him gently on the arm and he smiled up to me, ignorant of his fate. I smiled back and told him I had something cool to show him; the time-honored way to gain the trust of the adventurous side of any youth. I lead him to the building that I had first lost my way at and told him to hold on a second, that I had forgotten my jacket. As I rounded the corner again I saw the approval images flash vividly in my mind like momentary hallucinations and heard the distinct veracity of his quick appearance, a minor scream of a child muffled before it had time to echo to the ears of the wandering, likely concerned, parents. I grimaced, it was not a pleasant task, but it was also not my place to judge.
I went back to my bench and flipped open my laptop, reflecting on it all. In reality, as much as I feel for his victims sometimes, the fun of it is exhilarating. It is an idea so much bigger than myself. One day, I will have to muster the gumption to be curious, and ask the man what he does with his victims. Possibly soon.
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