*does a victory dance* This is the last chapteeerrr! Just in time for me to focus on summer classes, too!
Also, I'm really really sorry for taking so long with this one! It was emotionally difficult for me to go through a certain portion of this chapter due to it having a lot to do with my ex... I had to relive a lot of our glory days.

*Ahem* Anyway, back to being happy! Special thanks to:

11Creepypastas12 (for reviewing a bunch since I last updated!), TinyBloodRose (for following), Perriian (for following), Nutella (for reviewing since the beginning!), Elite of the Darkmoon (for following and favoriting), and Akemi2013 (for reviewing)! Thank you, all!

Responses to reviews (without reply links): Nutella - Seriously, you're terrible at signing in to your account. lol Oh well, still a pleasure to read your reviews. :D Go on refusing Ella's death! You'll see! You'll all see! *laughs maniacally* ...I mean. *shifty eyes* Anywho, maybe you do have a Sierra. lol She be cray, yo. *is shot* Oh, and yeah. Hoodie wants anything that will give him ammo to get Ella's blood boiling. lol

Okay, I'll stop wasting your time. Enjoy! :D

Confessions

My original expectations of become simply nothing had evaded me. Soon after my vision had faded from seeing Slender Man protecting me from the Oni brothers, I awoke in a plane of nothingness. White air surrounded me; emptiness of the greatest extent. I couldn't even hear the typical hum of my own blood rushing through my veins.

Was I within Tamashii's stomach? The sword, of course. Surely the dagger I had put together absorbed my soul to feed its hunger.

If my sacrifice was at all successful, then surely Tamashii, himself, would also have joined me within the blade's confinement. On the other hand, maybe I was expecting things to go too quickly. I could only hope that Sierra would become victorious against the Oni brothers.

Just as though he were sent to distract me from further wonderment, a familiar man appeared before me. His poorly conditioned teeth, his shoulder-length hair, his tall, broad form. He was the man from my dreams.

"My love," his British accent bore into my being, "you look confused."

"Love?" I gazed up to his brown eyes, wondering if I was in some sort of dream, rather than within the blade itself. There was no way that something like this should be happening if I were its captive. "Who are you?" Why the hell was this man was calling me such an endearing name, I didn't understand. We had never met before - certainly not in real life, anyway.

Before I could continue this thought, a small body embraced me from my side. It reached just up to my hip, warm and loving. "Momma!" The voice was familiar. A boy I had known for quite some time. "Can I have mac-n-cheese for dinner tonight?"

Like a wave crashing into me, I began to understand who these people were. My husband and son were finally with me again. We had been separated, but I couldn't remember why. Jayden was my son, but I couldn't quite pull the man's name into my head still.

The realization that we were in a field of emptiness came back to me. I began to fret over how I could grant Jayden's wish. "How can I cook..?" As I glanced around, taking my eyes away from the blonde child, I found the three of us in a cozy house; one that I had always dreamed of owning. It felt familiar, as though we had been there since the beginning of our marriage.

What about Slend-

What about what?

Something tugged at the back of my mind, trying desperately to tell me that my time on earth wasn't over.

The tugging became increasingly faint.

"We should get started with dinner," my husband's voice brought me back to the perfect world around us. He placed a tender kiss on my forehead, smiling with endless love. Together, he and Jayden walked toward the kitchen, leaving me behind as though I would follow right behind them.

Instead, I gazed at their backs, taking in what was set before me while trying to dig into my mind for the tugging that was once there. Something told me that I was dreaming, but I was convinced that I had always lived this way.

A painful stinging in my right hand shocked me out of my pondering. I instinctively looked down at the source of my pain, only to find that there was nothing wrong with it. No cuts, to bruises. Still, I felt as though there should be something there.

That is, until the pain stopped, and I began to have less and less doubt that this world was real. This was my family. I had always been with them. Life was perfect.

His white, nonexistent face was like a canvas for my imagination to paint the man I once had the pleasure of loving. His darker-than-darkness-itself suit reminded me of the time I visited my late fiance in his home country for the second time. Those were times of bliss. Times that I could never get back, no matter what I did.

We had known each other for seven years, only just getting into the engagement process for one year. Money was tight, so getting married and moving on with our lives as quickly as the typical couple wasn't so simple. In hindsight, I should have saved up my money so much more carefully, but when I was around him, it seemed like nothing could go wrong. Even when mishaps did bring themselves to light, I somehow saw the brighter side in his presence.

During my second visit, I had just arrived at the airport, waiting for him to pick me up. Unfortunately, when I entered the arrivals lobby, he was nowhere to be seen. I worried about how long I would be in a strange place all alone with two hefty bags of luggage to carry around. There was no way for me to contact him, save for a pay phone, which I had never used in my life. My cell phone was useless in a foreign country because my cellular company didn't explain how the SIM card worked in this sort of situation.

Still, I found some change that I had gotten during the currency exchange process and turned on my cell phone to look up my fiance's number. I picked up the pay phone and pressed it against my ear, dialing the first few digits into the keypad, when someone grabbed me around my waist and spun me around.

At first, my mind panicked on whether I should attack or scream, but once I laid eyes on the familiar baby face of the man I loved, everything was okay again. He took the pay phone from my hand, returning it to its resting spot, and I lunged at him for a tight embrace. He was in a suit and tie, looking sharp compared to his usual t-shirt and black slacks.

He had dressed up just for me, because we rarely had a reason to dress up for each other. This seemed like a good enough reason, though. It was close to our anniversary, too.

His surprise appearance was certainly one that stuck within my heart ever since.

A sharp pain filled my head, stabbing at my brain like some sort of migraine. It brought me back to reality, where I found Slender Man much closer to me. That brave jerk was clenching my skull with his boney hands, prying into my thoughts as though I were some sort of lab rat.

I thought about stabbing Him again, but I realized why He was doing this.

I wasn't talking. I was too busy having flashbacks.

"Sierra," Slender muttered from above me, "who is this man?"

I couldn't look up at Him anymore. My late fiance's face continued to envelope Slender's each time I tried. "I already told you," my lips quivered, pulling down into a maddeningly deep frown. "He's the only one who could ever own my heart."

Morgan and I had met on a chat site. I was a freshman in high school, and he was two years ahead of me. We talked nearly every single day, every moment that we had to spare. It was one year before we told each other our real names, two years before we moved to MSN Messenger. Six months went by before we told each other specifically where we lived, to which we downloaded Google Earth and discovered what our houses looked like from above, and even began to communicate through webcams. Another year went by before we began sending each other letters and little gifts in the mail. Sure, we could send email and all, but the excitement of receiving physical letters and surprise presents was much more fun. It didn't happen often, due to how costly international mail was, though. Each birthday, each Christmas, each Valentine's Day, we sent presents and letters, if we had the money.

One year after I graduated high school, I made the biggest decision of my life: I went and visited Morgan in his home country.

I had to do a lot of saving up, working extra hard to make the money for a plane ticket and spending money. Due to how expensive the ticket was, we settled for my stay to last one month. Sure, that seemed rather long for meeting someone for the first time, but we had now known each other for five years. If Morgan was a predator, then he was extremely persistent and patient.

I was nineteen years old then.

Four days before I had to return to America, Morgan proposed to me at an internet community meeting. The gaming group was based in England, which was the other half of the reason I had decided to visit Morgan. We were involved with the community for several months by that time, and this was their first annual meeting, too.

Unfortunately, Morgan was too shy to propose to me in front of everyone. Instead, he asked me to marry him while we were inside a tent when I had gone to get something from our suitcase. I had accepted his proposal with little hesitation. We had discussed the whole marriage thing plenty of times over the internet as it was, so this was pretty much expected. Still, I was thrilled that he asked me in person. Surely then, my life was made. I thought that nothing could stop us from pure happiness.

A few months later, Morgan came to visit me in America. I introduced him to everyone in my family, proud to have found a man who respected my morals and everything about me. I didn't want to have sex until marriage, which he was perfectly fine with, though we had our moments of nearly breaking that promise. His eldest brother laughed at us for it when I had taken him further north of America to visit. Morgan hadn't seen his brother in many years, so I thought it would be a wonderful treat that his loving fiance could do for him. We flew the first time there. I paid for everything.

Again, that next summer, I visited Morgan again. It was our seventh year knowing each other. A month went by much too quickly. Plane ticket prices were increasing each year. My minimum wage job just couldn't keep up with both my bills and our love. Morgan was having trouble with finding and keeping a job that didn't stress him out so much. Even worse, most of the jobs would cheat him out of money in one way or another. Employment in England was difficult for Morgan. In the end, I helped him purchase a taxi license so he could get a job doing what he enjoyed: driving.

Towards the spring, Morgan came to visit me for the last time. We went and visited his brother, this time making a road trip out of it. I absolutely loved road trips with him. We seemed to bond the most that way. Again, as per usual, I paid for everything.

Then, things became too much.

Bills piled up on me. Each time I paid one off, two more showed up. Medical bills, a car note, insurance, phone bills, credit cards. I made bad decisions on my part, but some things we unavoidable. For instance, I ended up in the psychiatric unit due to my severe depression. This added to my bills something fierce. The car note was also a problem that I couldn't quite dodge. My old car devoured oil like the Oni brothers gorged themselves with souls and flesh. During Morgan's last time visiting me, I went to pick him up at the airport, which was a total of six hours there and back. I had forgotten to check the oil after returning home with him. Some days later, we decided to go out of town, and that's when disaster struck. The engine rattled and blew a rod, unable to lubricate itself. It couldn't be saved, and the car was worth less than a new engine. We settled on myself getting a new car.

Thinking about it later on, I should have searched for a cheaper car, but we were planning for that road trip to his brother's, so I wanted a reliable vehicle. Buying one off the street wasn't a guarantee of reliability compared to a legit car sales lot. Still, it was a poor decision on my part.

For six long years, Morgan and I struggled to scrounge up the money to pay for the fees required in visas and foreign marriage. This included a plane ticket, a fiance visa card, and being able to support the other for up to six months until we could get a job. Each year the plane tickets increased dramatically. Each year my bills gradually grew worse, little by little. Sometimes we would make progress, but just when we thought we were close to finally getting married, something would come up, and we'd start back at square one again.

Finally, after fifteen years of love and hardship, eight years of loyal engagement, after having not physically being near each other since the last time Morgan had visited me, we made a breakthrough.

I landed a successful job as a martial arts teacher, making much more money than I knew what to do with. We were to marry that year.

It took six months of paperwork, background checks, and meetings with social workers to prove that I wasn't trying to immigrate Morgan into the states for other reasons. No, this was solely for love. All we wanted, more than anything else, was to finally be together for the rest of our lives.

Once we were given the clear on our union, Morgan boarded the next plane. We were both mad with joy, eager to fulfill our long-term dream.

Fourteen hours passed by painstakingly slow. Morgan's trip was long – something he never quite enjoyed. I drove three hours to the Houston international airport and ended up one hour early for the flight to land. My heart was racing as I glanced back and forth from the flight tracking board to the television that hung from the arrival lobby ceiling. At some point, my eyes registered the news story that was being broadcasted.

My heart sank.

I checked the paper with my scribbled flight number and arrival time, praying that it was any other flight than the one on TV.

Morgan's plane had crashed in the ocean. It happened sometime during the night, and the radio tower to hear the last call reported that it was due to an engine failure. Bodies were found; most of the passengers had died.; the plane was torn to shreds.

So far, none of the passengers had been identified, but I still wept, knowing that life was back to denying our dream.

It took the airport security to escort me out and back to my car. After further questioning, they contacted a relative of mine to pick me up. My car was driven by another family member.

Later that day, I contacted Morgan's parents through the chat program known as Skype. His mother confirmed the worse – Morgan had died during the crash.

In a fit of despair and rage, I punched my computer screen. The monitor fizzled and sparked until it finally caught fire. I didn't care. I ripped my engagement ring from my respective finger. The pain had me sure that I had torn off my whole finger, too, but it was still there, despite its inflamed discoloration.

My memory between then and my time in the psychiatric ward is nonexistent. Eventually, I was released from the hospital, but my mind would never be the same. The medicine I was prescribed only aided me in being able to fake my way out of psychiatric care.

I waited one week before adorning my wedding dress and driving to the beach nearest my love's grave. It required careful planning, but I made it so that no one could track me.

As I gazed out to the shimmering horizon, weeping like a lost child, I prayed that Morgan would be wherever I ended up in the afterlife – or that I would join him where he had gone to. Somehow, some way, we needed to be together. I looked down from the rocky cliff, daring the jagged stones below to divert themselves in an effort to save my life. How dare they even consider prolonging my suffering!

Without another thought, without a single regret, I jumped.

The salty water came crashing sooner than expected, but I welcomed it all the same. The waves tossed me around like a rag in a clothes washer, and my heavy dress weighed me down just below the liquid's surface. A solid force slammed into the left side of my head. I was sure that my skull had cracked. Then another rocky object plunged into the left side of my chest. My ribs ached and shattered. The soggy moistness of my damaged internal organs being stirred around made me a little nauseated, but my body grew increasingly numb by the second. My mind, however, continued to race with fury, cursing the world for taking away my hard work's reward.

It was all for nothing.

As I felt my heart being ripped from within my chest cavity, I blacked out. I had died, surely.

Warm, gentle waves ran along the sand beneath me. Their silent cooing stirred me awake. The wet sand mashed between my curling fingers, grinding its gritty sounds similar to the churning waves behind me. I opened my eyes, seeing a familiar beach with a cliff far in the distance. A crab was toying with my clumps of knotted hair, searching for food. It was deep into the night. The silence of lacking human life was overwhelming.

I pushed myself up, soon finding that my head felt somehow lighter. There was no hair draping down from the left side of my face, either. At first, I figured that my violent contact with the ocean rocks had scalped me, but wouldn't that have caused me to bleed to death? Then I remembered about the wound I should have in my chest.

My hand reached up, fingers carefully feeling for skin that would normally be covering my heart. Instead of flesh, bone, anything human-like, my hand came into contact with an empty cavity where my heart should be. The edges of my skin felt stiff and sharp like broken porcelain. I reached further up to my head, wondering what its fate had become. To my surprise, it was the same as my chest.

Emptiness.

No mind. No heart.

Only one thing fluttered through my thoughts: I should be dead. Yet, here I was, alive and alone.

Alone. Morgan wasn't with me. I wasn't with Morgan. The world once again denied our union.

All of my efforts, all of my wasted time and sweat and tears and money, they were all for nothing!

That's when I truly snapped. If there was any remaining sort of sanity within me, surely all of it had shattered away at that moment.

I had to show the world that true love was not welcome here anymore. If I couldn't have my dear, sweet Morgan, then no one could be happy. No one could be in love.

I wouldn't allow it.

Still in my tattered and ocean-soaked wedding dress, I set out into civilization, searching for women who had any sort of significant other. Whether it be a lover, a husband, or a boyfriend, I would hunt down the radiating romance and put it to an end.

Killing them would be too merciful, though. No, I would let the women suffer as I did. I would cut off their left ring finger with whatever sharp object I could find – sometimes, I would have to smash the finger until I could just tear it off. The men would often try to get in my way, however. They were no match for me. I easily fought them off with strength and speed that I didn't have before. Most of them died.

If I couldn't die, then I would teach the world of true suffering.

Unfortunately, I was leaving a trail of carnage and terror behind me. The police were drawing closer to my identity. I had to lose them. I was tired, anyway; tired of crying and laughing; tired of being conscious.

Deep within, I discovered a tiny portion of my former sanity. Surely there was none left, but there it was, slumbering and weeping over the evil deeds I had performed.

We traded places. I would sleep. It was the closest to death I would ever get. She awoke in her car, only knowing what I allowed. As far as she knew, my former self had gone on a road trip for some relaxation. She remembered having a boyfriend, but they had separated years ago.

To her, there was no Morgan, no insanity, no bloodshed. I did, however, convince her that our family and friends were not to be trusted, for fear of them reminding her of what I strove so hard to conceal. She changed her name to 'Ella' and moved to Glenwood, Arkansas in hopes of starting a new life.

I slept once I knew that we were safe. It was the darkest, most peaceful sleep I had ever experienced.

Until He had to ruin everything.

Now, here I was, awake and miserable. Ella knew everything of our past, and I couldn't use her as a scapegoat any longer. Once again, my efforts were all for nothing.

Laughter escaped me, overpowering the roar of the rain. I glared up to the tall being before me, internally cursing him for ruining my plans. Something in his lacking face caught my attention, though. Pity, I think. The vague creases in his muscle definition contorted into an expression of regret and concern. Never would I have thought that the Slender Man could feel such a way about a mere human.

"Sierra," Slender Man began, the rain finally letting up, "you must forgive me. Even I couldn't have known your intentions."

My eyebrows furrowed, "I thought you wanted to harness my power?" The rain continued to lighten to a drizzle.

With a firm nod, Slender Man replied, "I do, yet so much of Ella's actions and lifestyle have been explained. It somewhat causes me to reconsider my desires."

"To rule the world?"

"Such is the least of my worries, my dear."

"Then why do you want my power?" All I knew was that this being was a sophisticated killer; a soul-eater; He was a being of modern and past legends. Why He would need my abilities now was mind boggling.

A thin, boney hand cradled my cheek ever so gently. It was amazing how a killer of children could be this tender. "One must keep their weaknesses in check, my sweet."

That's all He wanted? To keep me out of his way and on each other's good side? It certainly was a different way of harnessing someone, that's for sure.

"What about Ella?" After so many years of our consciousnesses being separated, we had become our own persons, yet our core remained as one. Ella was my former self. She was the person I had worked so hard to become before the plane crash. I cared for her like a sister. To keep her in a blissful dream that I had created for myself was heart wrenching.

"I thought she had been absorbed by the wakizashi?" Slender Man eyed my held blades.

"No," I gulped, increasingly regretting the prison I had put her in.

"Then where?"

"My dreams," I mumbled.

"Can you release her?"

"Only one of us can be awake at a time, otherwise I'll go on a mindless finger-chopping spree."

Nodding in acceptance, Slender Man moved his hand from my cheek to the edge of my skull opening. "What do you desire most?"

To leave Ella in that realm of false bliss was surely torture. She knew nothing of Morgan like I did. I created her that way. Even I felt a sort of loneliness at times while in my induced slumber. Just as well, since we were occupying the same body, Slender Man could still hold my power within his grasp. For me to remain awake would require my rampages on a regular basis. Lastly, Ella had grown to care for Jayden like a son. He had become much too corrupt to return to his normal human life. Ella needed to be there for him. I had lived my life. I had failed at happiness. Perhaps Ella would have better luck.

Yes. I had made my decision. "I want Ella to take control. Let her be with Jayden."

A light chuckle escaped the Slender Man. "She would have no other choice. I would deny her ability to leave my realm without permission."

"I'm sure she'll enjoy that." I smirked.

Slender Man placed another hand on my head. "Rest well, Sierra. Until I need you."

Darkness.

I didn't dream.

You'd think that after fighting Japanese demons in the pouring rain, one's clothes and skin would be soggy with mud, right? Well, somehow, I woke up on a familiar couch in a dimly lit room. Bookshelves and artwork surrounded me over dark red walls. I wasn't cold or wet. Heck, I even had a new wardrobe on. My gi must have been taken off and-

Wait, that means someone stripped me naked!

I shot up with a start. "Who changed my clothes?!" Great first words after waking up, right? Seemed important to me.

"I did, along with other things," a snarky male voice sent dread into my heart. The image of a certain yellow-hoodied Proxy entered my mind.

"Away with you," a deeper voice commanded. I turned to find Slender and Hoodie standing in the doorway. Hoodie compliantly exited without another word. Slender gazed at me, I think, from where He stood.

"Did he really change my clothes?" I had to know. If that annoying yellow Proxy saw me naked, I'd have to put him down. It could have been anyone else, and I wouldn't be so upset about the situation.

"No. I did." Slender's words stung me much colder than I thought they would. He saw me naked, cleaned the mud from my skin and hair, and redressed me like a doll. What else did He do while I was unconscious? Experiment on my body? Dissect me? Invade my mind? "Your imagination runs vast," He said, humored.

I pursed my lips, frustrated, yet relieved that ol' Slender had some amount of respect for me. "Did we win? Against the Oni brothers, I mean."

Slender nodded. "Sierra was more than enough."

"Cool." My eyes searched the tall man who remained at his spot in the doorway. "What now? I can't bring Jayden back to his parents in his condition."

"You will remain here, caring for Jayden, whilst I hold you under my supervision." There seemed to be pleasure in his words, as though he enjoyed the idea of my imprisonment.

"So," I quirked a brow, not quite accepting what He had planned, "you're gonna babysit me while I babysit Jayden? You know I could whoop your lanky butt pretty good, right? Or did you get hit too hard by the Oni and forget?"

Now Slender was looking irritated with me. Good. I liked making Him mad. That way, He might toss Jayden and I out of the mansion so we could go – somewhere.

Oh right.

I'm presumed dead. Heck, so is Jayden, by now. If we were to show our faces in public, I'd be arrested and he'd be put in a psych ward. I couldn't risk that happening to the poor kid.

"You have no choice," Slender's deep voice woke me from my disappointing thoughts.

He was right, of course. I didn't have a choice on where to live anymore. This was my best chance to stay with Jayden and try to nourish what little sanity he had left. On the other hand, Slender Man still seemed to be more gentle with me than normal. I had to put Him to the test. "I'm sure you'll find Jayden and I missing one day," a sly smirk curled onto my lips as I watched the tall being clench his skinny fists.

Those darker-than-black tentacles of his sprouted from Slender's back, lashing and whipping toward me. I hopped into a crouch on the fanciful couch and blocked a few of the inky vines, but the two longest ones managed to wrap around me. Nearly getting whiplash, I was yanked over to the pale, almost featureless face that was Slender Man's. He glared me down as I grinned back at Him.

"No choice," He repeated sternly.

My grin broadened, glad to see that I was back in reality and not that weird dream that I had so nearly fell for. The British man wasn't my husband, and Jayden wasn't our son. I knew that now, but something within the dream convinced me otherwise.

A reminding sting jolted within my right hand. As I looked down, trying to raise the painful hand and angle my head to see it, I commented back to my captor, "Yeah, yeah. Good to see you, too." I then saw the permanent wounds and stitches that had been caused by Karada's blade. In a way, I was relieved to see them, yet knowing that the hand would never heal was quite a handicap if I ever had to fight again.

Slender placed me down on the floor, releasing me of his tentacle grasp. I think He noticed that I was still uncertain if I was dead or not. Sure, everything seemed as it should be, but I knew that I was supposed to be dead. There was no way for me to survive a direct stab to the heart. My soul should have been devoured by Tamashii's blade, right? Unless Sierra and I are one soul, so it all canceled out?

Crap! I don't know!

Speaking of Sierra, "What happened to her?" I asked, knowing that there was only one other female that both Slender and I knew.

"She sleeps within you, but you shouldn't have to fear episodes of her rampages again," Slender Man replied.

With a stern nod, I smiled, satisfied with his answer. "Good. I don't need that crazy lady ruining my reputation anymore than she already has."

When I looked up at the tall man, expecting Him to retort something about wanting her power, I saw a strange expression on his lacking face. Despite the vague definitions, I could see some sort of sadness there. It was as if He knew something about Sierra that I didn't.

Whatever. I couldn't care less about her problems. It was probably something stupid about her "all for nothing" phrase, anyway.

"Where's my swords?" I changed the subject to something more interesting.

"In your room, along with your other belongings," Slender replied matter-of-factually.

"Did they repair themselves after killing the Oni?"

Slender only nodded.

We stayed silent for a long few moments, not sure how to adjust to our new lives together. My mind drifted to wondering if I would become a friggin' house maid or something. We'd definitely fight if He tried to do that to me.

Long, thin arms wrapped around my shoulders, pulling me into a tight embrace against the fearsome Slender Man. The feeling shocked me out of my thoughts. Sure, He'd given me a few surprise kisses before, but that was to suppress Sierra. Slender didn't need to do that anymore.

"Welcome back, Ella," his words reverberated through his chest and into my ears like the soothing purr of a kitten. To be honest, even though it was a bit strange for Slender to do something like this, I liked it. We had gone through so much together - fighting, arguing, and working concertedly. No longer did we see each other as enemies, but rather respected rivals. Sure, we still teased each other, seeing how far we can push for irritation, but it wasn't out of hatred anymore.

Slender and I saw each other as equals. Neither of us could kill the other – not physically. Spiritually, I think we killed what was weighing us down, in terms of strength. I can't say we had fallen in love, because that's just not quite what happened.

Maybe one day, though.

For now, I lived in Slender Man's mansion, watching as Jayden left and returned on his missions. We made an agreement that Jayden would only talk to me about his toys, but not the children he stole them from. Even though his tactics were his pride and joy, Jayden accepted my request. We spent his free time together, playing and practicing hand-to-hand combat. I constantly feared that one day he would be caught by a parent or the cops, so teaching him to fight was all I could really do. Slender wouldn't let me watch from a distance. Probably for the best, though.

As for my antics with Hoodie and Masky, those continued as they always did. Hoodie and I would get into an argument, Masky would try to make his fellow Proxy back off, we'd fight, and Slender would break us up. It was an almost daily routine, though they would disappear on missions for days at a time here and there.

Living in the mansion wasn't so bad. It was always clean, there was always a stock of great food, and anything I could ever need was available. Sometimes I wondered if Slender Man was spoiling me, but He quickly did away with that idea when we would nag at each other and get a little too rough.

One day, I'd like to step foot outside of the mansion. Maybe when the authorities have stopped searching for me. Convincing ol' Slender to let me out would be quite the challenge, that's for sure.

*Cries a whole bunch* I'll miss writing about Slender and Ella's adventures. It was crazy fun writing this story! Perhaps, as I get the time, I'll write little one-shots based on them? What do you guys think? Or should I just let them rest as the story is? Cause otherwise, I'll be writing one-shots of various Creepypastas as the ideas come along. I can't work on length stories for the time being, due to school and some original novels I'm trying to finish. Sorry. :(

Thank you, everyone, for reading~! :D It was a great adventure together, and I hope we can do it again soon!
I ask that you review at least for this final chapter. :( It'd be an awesome going-away present. :P Tee-hee.
But naw, I'll be okay if you don't review. I just like knowing how well I did when I know I have a large audience. *shrug*
Again, thank you!

*LadyMonoceros, Ella, Slender Man, Hoodie, Masky, and all of the other cast members take a bow as the curtains close* (I'd include Sierra, but it wouldn't be logical to have her separated from Ella).