The cat walked slowly across the concrete, pausing to lick its paw in the middle. It sat there in the moonlight, just watching the skies and heavy rain. The clouds swirled, and the night was young. Perhaps it could find a confused mouse, or a drowned frog in this time. Its tail moved with anticipation of it’s hunt. A chain-link gate swung open with surprising speed, startling the cat, resulting in a hissy fit. The man who opened it carried no thought of the terrible weather, cat, or of anything else he was up against. Yelling an obscenity, he ran as fast as he could through the opening. That thing wasn’t getting him, no way. He sprinted through the gate, and into the alleyway. He didn’t know why, and he didn’t know how, but something was following him. His first inclination was when he kept seeing this menacing figure at every turn. No matter where he went, he kept seeing it. He had thought that it might be a person following him at first, but that had quickly changed when he saw the height and shape of the being. Great, a fork in the alley. Mark, sped towards the right. Not because of any good feeling, but because he knew whatever it was would catch up no matter which way he went. The figure always seemed to be two steps ahead of him. Every time he turned around, it was there, silent as the night, just watching him. He could never make out it’s features in the rain, as it blurred his vision. He could tell it was tall, and seemed to have black and white skin, with the black covering the legs and torso. He had figured since it didn’t move when it was being watched, he could look at it and just keep it frozen. It worked, but when he stared at it, he felt sick, like something was clawing its way out of him. His worst memories resurfaced in his brain, among them an embarrassing date, a lost pet, his sister’s funeral… he had turned away, and crawled for a few seconds until he could stand up again. Then he ran far from the creature, the thing that, like his memories, he could not seem to escape. Suddenly Mark slipped on a giant puddle, interrupting his thoughts. immediately, his jeans and hoodie became soaked on contact. Picking himself up from the water, the feeling to look back was too great. He turned around. There it stood, as real and frightening as ever. What really startled him was that it was closer because of his tumble, only a mere twenty feet away. Trying not to scream, in case that triggered a reaction from the creature, he spun around and ran. The rabbit may not know of the fox, but it will sense danger when it presents itself. This was not unlike the feeling he felt right now. He didn’t know what it was, or why it wanted him, but he felt in his genetic memory that this thing was a great threat. If this thing was chasing him, it’d probably chased other people. Which meant that nobody had gotten away from this thing ever. Or else they didn’t live long afterward to tell the tale. Mark ran out of the alleyway, and into the street. The rain had been coming down hard, he knew that, but until now he hadn’t realized how much. The street was overflowing with water. It was even coming onto the sidewalks. A flash flood. He wasn’t really surprised nobody was out, even if it was New York. With this weather, everyone else would be inside closed and locked doors. Leaving him alone with… Realizing his mistake, he threw himself into the street, while turning around. The figure had come to a stop about ten feet from where he was. Then he went under the water. It was a little surprising being underwater in a city street, but at least it wasn’t deep. Finding a hold in the asphalt, he pushed himself up, and out of the water. Looking around, he found that the street was going uphill, or downhill depending how you look at it. This meant that there was a slight current in the water. Not enough to pull him away, but enough to make him unsteady. Mark looked around, frantic about the creature’s whereabouts. In the pouring rain, he couldn’t see ten feet in front of him. If the creature really wanted him, then he was about as vulnerable as he could have possibly been. Looking around, he finally spotted it about a yard away. This close, and in the rain, it looked like something out of a horror movie. It stood around eight feet tall at first glance, but as he tried to find it’s head, it just seemed to get taller, like an endless ladder. Looking closely at it, he noticed that what he had originally thought was skin, was actually a formal suit, complete with a tie. It was both comical and terrifying at the same time, much like a clown. it took an ordinary object, and perverted it, twisting it into something sick. Upon even closer inspection, he realized it was far from perfect. It had large rips in the tie, and one sleeve was torn off about half way up. It had many tears in the fabric, and was stained with several foreboding rust colored spots. But when he finally found it’s face, he screamed. It wasn’t that there was no face, but it was just so horrible that his mind immediately erased the image from his head every second he spent staring at it. He literally could not remember what it was, but it terrified him beyond belief. Snapping himself out of his trance, he moved to the right, narrowly avoiding a- tentacle? How had he missed that? Ducking, he closely evaded decapitation from another. Remembering the current, he threw himself down the street, being swept away with the current down the hill. The entity did not follow. Floating down, unable to get a grip, Mark just tried to stay up on his butt while sliding. Looking ahead, he found to his horror, that the creature was already at the bottom of the large hill. Using his feet to steer, he sped himself towards a lamp-post on the side-walk. Reaching out, he attempted to grab it, only to find himself falling. Grabbing the edge of the sidewalk, as to not be swept in, he realized there must be an open sewer grate below him, unseen in the water. Cursing, he tried to pull himself up. Looking to his right, he spotted the figure about sixty yards away now. Gripping the concrete he tried to heave himself up. Another quick glance to his right. Twenty feet away. Giving it up, Mark let go and fell with the water. After four seconds of terrifying free fall, he hit the ground. Hearing a crack and experiencing extreme pain, he moved his left leg. It felt fine. Then the other. Once he moved it, he felt incredibly intense pain at the base of his thigh. That meant it was his hip. s***. Trying to stand up, he found he couldn’t. The pain was too unbearable. He started crawling, knowing he had to get away. Dragging himself across the ground, he came to the sewer canal that carried rain water and gunk under the street. Looking to his left, he thought he saw a light. He couldn’t tell, as his vision was blurry. Funnily enough, it got cloudier. Then the sick feeling started again, along with the memories. Realizing his fate, he tried to drag himself into the canal so he could drown. Surely it would be a more peaceful death then whatever this being had in store for him. Right as his body fell in, he felt a tendril grab him by the ankle, and lift him out of the water. Flipping him right side up, he hung there, looking at the creature for the first time, face to face. He was filled with unimaginable terror. It’s body radiated evil, and he vomited from the sickness, again and again. Then he felt two claw-like fingers lightly position themselves on his eyes. He tensed up realizing what it was about to do. . . . The woman opened her apartment room window. Looking out into the rain, she had thought she heard screams. But there was silence but for the rain now. There was no point looking outside anyway, there was nothing to see. The rain must have been coming down very hard, as it became. She thought about her mother, and the familiar sadness washed over her. She turned away from the window. Sitting down by the lamp, she began to read a book. Looking up slightly, she was startled to think she had briefly seen the faint outline of a man outside her window. But that was impossible. Her room was on the fifth floor of the building. She laughed at her absurd thought. Then she saw the other shadow standing next to her own.
Slender plz dont make stories about him i watched a documentary about him and it scared me for a week.....
There are milestones in your life that you never forget, and renting your first apartment is one of them. What can I say about mine? It was quaint, cheap, and had enough space that I could fit a bed if I really crammed the mattress against the wall. It wasn’t the glorious, romantic idea of moving out, but I could afford it, and that’s what really mattered. I remember taking the rusted key from my broad-shouldered, heavy bearded landlord, and oddly enough, I couldn’t keep the sting of cold electricity from running up my spine. I’m not superstitious, but I’d be a liar if I said that it didn’t frighten me. I should’ve left there; just let it go and walked away, but I didn’t. “It’s a nice room. I really can’t understand why no one would want to rent it.” He answered, a frown of confusion lining his features. I remember giving a shrug, thanking him politely, and scooting my way out the door. Making my way up the stairs, I glanced between the cracks of each step to see the pebbled sidewalk below. Several of the boards were wound tight with duct tape, holding them together. Even the slightest bit of weight caused them bend precariously, giving an aching squeak. It would’ve been so easy to break them, but luckily, I didn’t. I opened the door. It was solid wood with a faded brass mailbox, though one thing that caught my eye was a post-it stuck right at my eye-level to welcome me to the building. Apparently, there was one other person living in the building below me, though my landlord never remembered seeing them. Welcome! I hope you find the apartment to your liking. ~ Your Neighbor Downstairs. Taking the small piece of paper, I stuffed it in my pocket, before reaching for my key. Finally, it seemed like I found someone who didn’t creep me out, though the good feelings didn’t last long. As I slid the key into the lock, the brown rust specked off onto my hand, and I sneered in disgust, pulling back to brush it off. With a forced crack of old wood, I saw the inside. Yellow tiles lined the floor, and a white, cracked ceiling was above me. It had a bedroom, a bathroom the size of a broom closet, a living area with a window that only showed the bricks of the building next door, and a filthy kitchen, complete with overflowing ant traps. Giving a sigh, I could only stuff my hands into my pockets, crinkling the post-it, before setting down my bag. The apartment had already been paid for, and I couldn’t back out then… or rather I refused to, being the stubborn pain in the neck I grew up to be. I stayed there for several months and after a cleaning storm and some furnishings, it began to look like a home. During the day that is. At night, my apartment was always a different story. I’d lie in my bed, pull my covers up to my chin and get the most anxious chills. My hands would shake, and my stomach held the warning pressure of an exploding bladder, but that was never the case. Sometimes I’d be paralyzed with fear, never understanding why. In the darkness, all I could see was the white lights of my digital clock, and the single red eye of the smoke detector perched on the ceiling. I tried to think nothing of it, but the feeling only began to get worse. One night, as I lay in bed with insomnia’s cloudiness filling my head, I heard noises from beneath my bed. I was used to it, often-hearing music, or the sound of clicking, as my downstairs neighbor used his computer at every hour of the day. I knew the sound of typing keys, and sometimes I’d see the blue glow coming from his window when I came back late at night. However, that night, something about it made me nauseous. I listened to it, squirming with an antsy disgust. I couldn’t take it anymore. I threw my legs over the side of the bed, and stood up. I had to stop that clicking. It was driving me crazy, and all I wanted to do was sleep. I couldn’t remember a time when I had been that angry, but lack of sleep tends to do that to people. I made my way down the stairs, each one giving the horrid grinding sound of duct tape rubbing against itself, but I didn’t care. I was tired, angry, and I’d stop that clicking, no matter what it took. With each step, I felt my heart pounding, but the antsy feeling began to consume me. I didn’t know if I was going to vomit or pass out, but I refused to do either until that clicking was gone. Going to the door of my neighbor, I was inches from the door handle, when I heard the sound of breaking glass and a scream of pain. Through my hazy mind, I threw the door open and made my way into the apartment. It was dark, and I could barely see anything, though the notes of a song I couldn’t name reached my ears. I saw the familiar blue glow coming from one of the rooms, and I followed it like a moth to a flame. What I found has burned itself into my mind, and I’ll never forget it. On a wall, wasn’t just a small laptop, but several monstrous monitors that spread across it, there were nine of them, all neatly lined up to surround a single, decrepit swivel chair placed by a desk, with a keyboard. I reached over, my mind forgetting any weariness it was suffering before, as I touched one of the keys. I recoiled quickly, finding it newly sticky, and I felt my stomach pushing towards further nausea, but within seconds, the monitors lit up bright, leaving me temporarily blinded and blinking back spots. Once my sight returned to me, I stared at the monitors as one by one, they loaded to show different places in my apartment. Bedroom, living room, bathroom, kitchen, front door… they were all there, and I began shaking, looking around for any sign of the neighbor, I’ve never met. Everything was dead, and I felt around blindly for a light switch, only to find that there was none. The computers seemed to be their only source of light, and I tore my eyes away from them as soon as I could manage it. Granted, the clicking had stopped, but the music continued to play, coming from the bedroom. The same song looped itself over and over, each time the guitar began with its cheerful chords frightened me further. I ran as fast as I could towards the door, nearly tripping over pizza boxes and carelessly discarded books. All I knew was that I had to get away from it; the blinding monitors, the overwhelming stench of mold, the sticky keyboard… Everything that happened for the rest of that night happened in a blur of panic. I packed my bags, and left as soon as I could. Apparently, they never found the creep, he escaped before I could get into his apartment. The only trace of him was that broken basement window, and blood-soaked shards of glass. My stomach turns just thinking about it, now, to be honest. One thing I do remember from my experience happened as I went to leave the apartment and my creepy neighbor for good. I had my bags thrown over my shoulder, weighing me down to exhaustion, when I saw a small square stuck to the inside of my door, staring me in the face just daring me to leave. Written in maniac scrawl were song lyrics that still keep me from listening to the radio. I’ll never forget it. The song that had been looping in the monster’s bedroom that night gave me one more challenge, before I opened the door, never to look back. If only you saw what I can see, You’ll understand why I want you so desperately. Right now I’m looking at you and I can’t believe, You don’t know, You don’t know you’re beautiful. That’s what makes you beautiful.
'Everyone' I'm not, and lots of other people probably aren't. One image of slender, wow that person was a p**** :3
