"Christine!" came the tortured snap of her mother. "Enough of that foolish talk!" The distraught woman's voice was shaking and thick. Daniel patted the girl's back awkwardly. He was showing his sympathy, he decided.

"Doctor," Bayonet's voice chimed in, speaking as though she were a school teacher and he was a disobedient child. "If you would join us, please."

"I think I shall, Ms. Bayonet," he said calmly, nodding once at the little girl before climbing to his feet. He did not take a seat, but, rather, he stood by the window, glancing out on occasion.

"So there was nothing out of the ordinary?" asked the officer, supposedly in charge of the case.

"No," said the husband edgily. His hands and voice shook ever so slightly, but he kept himself relatively composed, "We ate dinner, put the girls to bed, and the next thing I know, Christine's screaming and crying and there's no sign of Agatha." His mouth pulled into a pained grimace, and his wife sniffled. A flash of movement caught Daniel's eye and he turned sharply. There was nothing out there; it was just a raven perching on the post of the back patio. Unease crept into the back of his mind, more so than before. He shifted anxiously. The woods were dark, and eerie. God only knew what was inside them.

"Right," the officer continued with a sigh. "I'm sorry, Mr. Troy, Mrs. Troy; we'll take one last look-see, then pull out and see what we can find." The man stood up, shook hands with the husband, and signaled for his men to leave.

After a moment of the Troy couple quietly lamenting, waiting for the two monstrumologists to leave. When they didn't Mr. Troy looked up, looking rather distressed.

"The inspector said the police were going," he said testily, "Don't you have somewhere to be?"

"Oh, no, sir," Bayonet said with a pleasant smile. "We're not police."

"Then what are you doing here?" his wife said bitterly. "Is this a joke to you?"

Before Parvana could rush in with an upsetting remark, Daniel cut in calmly, "No, madam, it is not by any means, a joke. In fact, these sorts of things are our... Specialties, you could say."

"What sort of business are you in?"

"Philosophy," Daniel said, after a moments hesitation.

"What sort of philosophy involves kidnapping children?" Mrs. Troy was becoming more and more hysterical, that was plain to see. Her husband gently shushed her and put an arm around her shoulders.

"Is there anything you haven't told the police?" Daniel asked. "Anything strange you found when you went into Agatha's room?"

The Troy's were quiet for a moment.

"Well, there was one thing," Mrs. Troy sniffed.

"What was that, if I may ask?"

"The curtains were missing."

Daniel nodded slowly. He tapped his fingers against the knuckles of his other hand thoughtfully, nodding to himself. On account of how big the Slenderman was (its height, of course), it was probable that it may have ripped the curtains.

"One last thing, then we'll need to check your girl's room, in case the police have missed anything," Bayonet said, "Had she been acting strangely? Avoiding the wood? Jumpy? Feverish?"

"No, not at all," Mr. Troy said, frowning fiercely, "She was as happy a seven year old girl could be."

Bayonet nodded slowly, sighing a little, then stood sharply.

"We'll examine your daughter's room and see what we can find; see if the police have missed anything," she said confidently, and led the way up the stairs, muttering to Daniel, who scurried behind her, "Which they probably have, the poor fools."

The ocelot was scampering up behind Daniel and pushed past him, very nearly making him fall back down the stairs. He cursed, glaring at the animal.

"How rude!" cooed Bayonet lovingly, "Percy, you ought to know better!"

"Maybe if you just got rid of the stupid thing," muttered Daniel. "You're in no place for an animal like that."

"Daniel, really now," she said in a chiding voice, "you ought to have some manners as well!"

Daniel scowled, crossing his arms over his chest as he walked into the room with obnoxious yellow caution tape across the frame. It was a tidy little room, with whites and pinks and butterflies adorning it. There was a particular area against the wall that was marked off. It was the window with the curtains torn off. The police hadn't missed it (but they probably had destroyed it; the window was closed), like the parents had said, but they would have no clue what to make of it; Daniel didn't even know what to make of it.

Bayonet studied it curiously, then said, without looking back at him, "We're seeing a break in the pattern, Dr. Erkhart—"

"Eckhart," Daniel corrected in annoyance, keeping his impatience in check.

"This newest victim has not been displaying the typical signs of 'slender fever'," continued Parvana, undaunted, "Up until the point of her disappearance, the girl had never come across our slender fellow, displayed any aversion to the woods or windows, and actually seemed perfectly happy—"

"Up to the point where she vanished into thin air; yes, I know all that," scowled Daniel, "I was there, after all."

When Parvana gave him a cold glare, he glared back and moved near the bed when Percy was getting to close to him for his liking. Currently, it was pawing at several flecks of dust and eying Daniel malevolently.

"Precisely. Now, what I want to know is how the curtains factor into this. If you'd come a bit closer, Doctor, you'll note that—"

"Parvana, as much as I'd like to let you finish a sentence once in a while, I'm not going anywhere until you get your damn cat away from me!" Daniel spat as Percy smacked as his heel. Bayonet pouted, but clucked her tongue at Percy who immediately shot under the bed, one paw scuffing his neat shoes resentfully.

Daniel had had just about enough of that stupid beast. The prospect of having an ocelot head mounted on his study wall was becoming more and more appealing.

Percy batted at Daniel's short laces maliciously, claws nipping at his trim trousers and his ankles. That was the straw that broke the camel's back. Not going to take any more abuse from a lowly feline, the doctor got on his knees and was attempting to reach under the bed for the cat, who had backed up against the wall. "Get back here, you rotten little throw rug!"

Parvana cleared her throat, forcing him to pay attention to her. He was almost to the point where he almost drew one of his revolvers to shoot the cat dead, because he had took a swipe and gashed the back of his hand, when she began to speak again.

"If you'd come a bit closer, Doctor Erkhart," Bayonet resumed patiently, forcing Daniel to abandon his undignified position on the floor, "You'll notice that the curtains have been torn from the overhang with tremendous force, so it certainly wasn't the child who removed them. It, of course, makes one wonder what did."

"We know what did," sighed Daniel, nursing his injured hand. "How many times must we state the obvious?"

"You may think you know for certain, Doctor," Bayonet sniffed, "but I won't rule out any possibilities until I have reason to."

"Why bother to call on me then?" snapped the doctor.

Parvana opened her mouth to retort when she was cut off yet again, this time by the ocelot, who had been slinking away towards the doorway, and Daniel took that moment to attempt to covertly grab it by the scruff.

"Percy! What has gotten into you!'

Then, the cat assumed a most peculiar pose. It was facing the window but leaning back, crouching onto its front paws while leaving its back legs slanted backwards, its tail sticking straight into the air. The strange behavior, however, was not the issue—it was the yowling and screaming issuing from its mouth, along with several snarls and spits.

"Your damn cat is crazy!" Daniel barked over the screeches, "You get it out of here before the parents make us leave, citing indecent behavior, or something!"

However, his words appeared to fall upon deaf ears, which was not really that new of an occurrence, but not because Bayonet was talking over him, which was often the case.

She was facing the same direction of the cat, toward the window, eyes wide, lips slightly parted, all traces of composure gone. So white, in fact, Daniel was sure she was about to faint.

"Bayonet—" he said, slightly worried as he made to steady her.

"Daniel…" she rasped. Daniel was taken aback a moment, then moved towards the window, as if drawn by the sudden use of his given name.

The young girl's guardians, in their infinite paternal wisdom, had seen fit to give their daughter a view of the woods that surrounded the back of the house. What had caught Bayonet's gaze was not the magnificent, dark pine trees that dotted the line of the woods, but the long, thin shape and slender body of a man, dressed in a business suit, standing just out of the woods and facing the house.

Daniel's breath stopped. His heart began to race. Slowly, he crept forward, past the caution tape to the window pane. He stared into the blank white face, eyes narrowing to get a better view. The creature had to be, at least, three meters tall, and all monochrome. The appearance itself wasn't frightening; it had no teeth or claws. With its monstrously disproportional limbs, it looked more like a child's handmade ragdoll rather than a proper monster. It was neat, as though it was on its way to the meeting of a lifetime.

Then, the strangest thing happened.

Daniel wasn't sure if Parvana felt it, but he did. A static tingle in his eyes, dancing through to the back of his brain. It was maddening; like an itch he couldn't scratch. He hated it. He didn't know what, why, or how, by he hated it with all his being. He felt fear, and panic, and frustration, and utter loathing.

On pure instinct and fresh adrenaline as his vision flickered strangely from black to white then back again, he slammed his heel into the pane of the closed window. He seized one of the revolvers on his satchel with all the grace of Percy's running, and braced himself the framework. He managed to fire off a single round as the static became overwhelming. He let out a short cry, slumping over the frame and the broken glass, tightening his grip on the handle of his gun. Soon after he looked away, the static settled.

Every bit of his energy felt sucked out of him. His vision was still dark, but it had a reddish tinge to it now. Someone grasped his shoulders and pulled him back, off the jagged shards. Weakly, he rubbed the corner of his eyes to clear them, revolver falling to the floor, and found his hand sticky when he pulled it away. He heard feet pounding on the stairs. His head pounded and he very much felt like he was going to vomit.

Bayonet sucked in a sharp breath and sat him upright. From what he could see, she had regained some color in her cheeks but her hands still held a shake. Percy was sitting right in her lap, obviously terrified.

Daniel only succeeded in smearing the slight stickiness in his eyes, rather than wiping it away, as the remaining police officers burst into the room. One man seized his revolver, and he vaguely felt anger. He rubbed his eyes again, clearing them with more success and found his hands covered in blood. That may have been cut from the glass, but he had a feeling the shards were not to blame.

Daniel made a face. He was almost sure his eyes were no longer bleeding, and found his mouth had a most sour taste in it. Hands hauled him to his feet and he staggered, feeling somewhat drunk.

"What happened?" demanded an officer, jabbing a finger accusingly at Daniel as his bag was taken from him. "What's wrong with your eyes!"

"A condition," rasped Daniel, making to take his bag back, "Give that back to me—"

The police officer promptly handed it to a man beside him, repeating his first question with more emphasis, "What happened?"

"I, ah, saw the man who took the girl, I thought," Daniel said slowly, still trying to force his mind to correctly think. "I reacted upon adrenaline alone and I will pay for the damages—"

"You've got enough drugs in here to drop an elephant!" accused the officer with his bag, sounding very surprised. Daniel went silent and screamed internally.

"I, um—" he tried to think of an excuse. "That I can explain."

"You were delusional; off on these things! These are illegal, I'll have you know!"

"I'm from London," he put up his hands in submission and shrugged nonchalantly. "They're legal there, in some places. And I'll have you know, some of those are medications."

The men gave him a look of disgust.

"You're coming down to the station," he growled and a man roughly forced Daniel's arms behind his back. He grunted in pain and staggered on his feet. He was handcuffed, naturally, and forced down the stairs.

As he crossed the yard to the car waiting, Parvana rushed to his side, flanked by several men. Daniel dug in his heels to listen to her speak.

"My things!" she chattered in anxious German, to which he assumed she spoke it so the police couldn't understand. "They won't search my things, will they?"

"I've done this before," Daniel said, echoing the language, still resisting, "Act calm, or like you didn't know I had the drugs or something. You and your tools will be fi- AGH GODDAMNIT!"

The police officer behind him gave him a shove and hit him, hard, in the back of the head with his baton. He pushed him into the back and slammed the doors shut, leaving Daniel in the dark.

He began to feel anxious.

Not so much about the drugs he had possession of, he had gone through this before, but the woods was beginning to frighten him. He didn't want to go near there again. A monster was a monster, and he usually looked at them with a scientific eye. But, there was something about this Slender creature that was different; something that was altogether more sinister.

The back of his neck prickled and what felt like a tear streaked out of his eye. It was probably blood, however.

He shut his eyes and began to tremble, wishing and wanting to be back home.